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lunaroserites · 1 month

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Art and Ice - Doodle

Pairing: Eventual Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Characters: Natasha, Wanda, Pietro, Loki, Bucky, Sam Wilson, Clint Barton, a lot of the avengers cast is mentioned.

Summery: MC asks Bucky to be her focus on her project.

This might a 2 or 3 parter (it's gonna be more because cannot help myself). College AU, our boy Bucky is on the hockey team, and reader is an art major (because I love that trope and couldn't help myself)

Warnings: Not beta'd! All mistakes are my own. Friends fluff, swearing, mentions of college students being college students. Bit of friendly harmless flirting between friends. Bucky is a playboy. Fighting.

Word Court: 2770

Likes, reblogs, comments are appreciated!

Please do not repost, translate or otherwise copy my work elsewhere, without my express permission, thank you! Lunaroserites on tumblr and ao3

Catch up here: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 ❤️

“You think I can just say fuck it and drop out?” The words tumbled out of your mouth quickly as you walked with Nat toward the arena. Practice was in the afternoon today because there was a game tonight. According to Nat our rival team would be here later to do some warm up before the game tonight.

“Seriously?” She raised a manicured brow at you.

“Maybe Pietro was right. I should be a drama major,” you whispered, mostly to yourself. You knew you were being over dramatic about the ordeal, but Barnes was an egotistical jerk and he was going to make this project hell. Was that a pessimistic take on it? Maybe. Were you wrong? Probably not.

You pulled your school hoodie tighter, winter's grasp was holding on tight this year. The wind nipped at your nose and cheeks as you both made your way into the arena. Once inside the main doors heat blasted at you, you rubbed your arms with your hands and looked at Nat who was doing the same.

“You are dramatic. But it’s gonna be fine,” her confidence almost made you believe her. Originally you were just going to wait and ask him outside the arena, in hopes maybe his cocky, surefire attitude would be on the back burner. But Nat said practice was amping up now as the season drew closer to playoffs and the team would be traveling a lot more. Nat led us to our seats next to the bench, another woman was sitting there already.

“Peggy!” Nat said cheerfully, as she sat down next to her.

“Natasha!” she said cheerfully back. “Who’s this?” She smiled at you. You waved and introduced yourself.

“Oh you’re the one doing the art project? Steve mentioned it,” she asked.

You nodded, “news travels fast?” you laugh a little weirded out how she already knew.

“Hockey players gossip worse than fishermen wives in the locker room...”

“And out of it,” Nat added with a laugh, Peggy chuckled as well.

“And Barnes can’t shut up about the fact you drew him,” Peggy said with an eyeroll. Right, you thought. Peggy probably spent a decent time around him, since Steve and him were best friends, from your understanding it was rare to see one without the other.

“I’m not surprised,” you chuckled, looking down at your sketchpad. The night before you stayed up and watched videos of Barnes’ best plays and a couple of his interviews. There were some very detailed pictures of his face there. You quickly turned to a black page so Nat wouldn’t see it and poke fun. When you found a muse, it was hard for you to focus on anything but it. You could feel the hole you were digging getting bigger and bigger.

“Fuck,” you glared at Barnes as he slammed into the glass in front of you, startling you. He had his helmet lifted and he was giving you a bright and flirty smile. You raised an eyebrow at him and shook your head, uninterested in his antics. He slipped his helmet down and pushed back, skating backwards, he moved so fluidly, you couldn’t help but pay attention.

“Oi! Barnes. Pay attention,” someone snapped, you looked towards the voice and stared for a moment.

“Coach Fury,” Nat said to you, “the only person that can get Barnes to pay attention besides Steve,” she finished. You nodded before looking back at the players. Your eyes were drawn to a smaller player, he wore a 12 on his back, Stark. He had been in one of your business classes you took in your second semester. He was an interesting guy, cocky and arrogant, he also came from money. His father was the owner of Stark Industries. He was speeding up and down the ice with ease.

“12, he's fast,” you murmured to Nat, who nodded.

“He broke a record last year, his size makes it easier for him to zoom around,” Nat answered as she looked down at my paper, “Barnes really has your eye doesn’t he, this is like the Hela thing all over again,” she chuckled.

“Yeah,” you blushed deeply and looked back down at your paper. You really wished one of the other teammates caught your attention, if Clint did this would be much simpler. But of of course the school hot shot had to be one to catch your eye.

“Hey,” Nat lifted your chin and made you look at her. “It’s fine, muses come and go. That’s how art is,” she smiled, that was one thing you loved about Nat, she never questioned or made fun of your muses or how ridiculous an idea you had was when it came to your art. She would poke fun, and make silly jokes, but nothing harmful. Just good natured fun. Her support was unwavering and true.

Nat was a dancer, she was studying dance and dance theory. That’s how you two met, you accidently stumbled into one of the dance studios after hours instead of the art room. She was there practicing, and made small talk with you. You ended up just sitting on the dance room floor and working on your project talking with her as she practiced.

“You know what’s funny, I didn’t think about dance for this project,” you chuckled after you relaxed a little. Nat’s face broke into a wide smile.

“It would be the same as Pietro and the track team, but at least we look cute in our dance attire,” she mused lightly. You laughed loudly at her comment.

“You really hate those track uniforms,” you shook your head as you chuckled some more. Clint zipped passed a moment later and Nat‘s eye followed him like a magnet. “Goodness, you’re so in love, it’s sickening,” you mused, she pushed your shoulder playfully.

“How long have you two known one another?” Peggy asked.

“Since first semester,” you answered her with a smile.

“You guys are such good friends, I would have expected childhood bestfriends,” Peggy said, as she smiled at Steve who skated by.

“We just clicked,” you shrugged, returning to your sketchpad.

Practice drew to a close a little while later and you followed behind Nat and Peggy as they made their way back toward the locker room. There were a few girls, including Pepper Potts, Starks on again/off again girlfriend. Every other week Nat would be talking about it. The girl Bucky had on his arm last time was missing from the group of girls waiting for the players to leave the locker room. First out was Clint, and he made a beeline for Nat, instantly pulling her into a hug and pressing his nose into her neck, she squealed a little as his cold nose made contact with her skin.

Peggy excused herself to go wait by the door for Steve who emerged with Barnes a moment later. She whispered something in Steve’s ear and pointed over at you with a smile. Steve nodded and waved with a small smile of his own. Barnes followed his gaze and instantly he perked up when he noticed you. He swaggered toward you, past the gaggle of girls waiting to try and get his attention, you noticed a couple of them glare in your direction. You stood with your arms crossed over your chest, sketch book tucked against your side. You looked up at him as he came up to you making a complete stop a foot in front of you. He really didn’t care about personal space, you took one step back so you didn't have to crane your neck as much to look him in the face.

“And what do I owe the pleasure today Doodle,” you cocked an eyebrow at the nickname, and squinted slightly. The nickname didn’t make you scrunch your nose or want to gag so it wasn’t the worst. You sighed heavily and danced on the balls of your feet for a moment. He just stared, watching you intently, a dumb cocky smirk plastered on his face.

“Would you let me draw you for my art project?” You asked, you wished the weight bearing down on your shoulders lifted but it didn’t. You dreaded the thought of spending more time with this menace of a man. His lip twitched further upward and showed some of his perfect white teeth.

“Ah Doodle, I thought you'd never ask,” he ruffled your hair with one of his big hands. You groaned and moved your head from him and tried to fix your hair.

“Don’t touch me, please,” you said sternly. “I just need permission to draw you and use your likeness.”

“Ah don’t be like that,” he moved forward and you stepped backwards and to the right, dodging him. He huffed in annoyance and you stared at him with your arms crossed again and slight scowl. “Will you be at the game tonight?” He asked, finally standing upright, his own arms crossed across his broad chest.

“Seats are sold out besides the reserved seats for team partners,” you stated, “so no not tonight.”

“There's always a seat reserved for my girl, you can have that one,” he stated matter of factly.

“I’m not your girl,” you said back firmly. “This whole thing is for my art project,” you moved your hand jestering to both of you, “it ends once my project is done.”

You couldn’t quite place the look on his face after you said that, but you could pick up the small look of challenge in his eyes. It seemed he was making this game, like he was contemplating how long it would be before you would cave and give him what he wanted. Another notch in his bed post. From what you could tell based on his body language alone he was not used to being rejected. Women usually flaunted over him and fell in his lap, all he had to do was choose who he wanted at that moment. Your determination to not be one of those girls was considered a challenge to him, met head on with stubborn determination to break you down and get what he wanted in the end. That made your stomach twist at the thought, he only wanted to do this to sleep with you, have some fun and then dump you off on Loki’s lap heart broken.

You shook your head, lost in your own thoughts. Barnes was still looking at you, a contemplative look on his face. He had his chin in his hand as he rubbed it, “this will be fun, see you tonight Doodle.” You glared at him as he walked away, twirling his keys around his finger.

“Jerk,” you said softly to yourself before you made your way over to Nat and Clint.

“Well that went better than I expected,” Nat said quietly as the three of you left the rink until you had to be back later.

A sleek black car was parked at the curb, you waved goodbye to Nat and Clint as you ran over to the car and slid into the passenger seat, you rolled the window down and shouted “goodbye! See you later,” Nat waved and they continued walking.

“Hey Loki!” You said cheerfully.

“Hello darling, I take it asking Barnes went well?” He asked as he put the car in drive and pulled out from the curb.

“It went alright. The cocky bastard,” you clipped your belt in place and turned your head to look at Loki fully. “He’s already flirting with me,” you shook your head in annoyance.

“At least he has good taste darling,” Loki said sweetly as we sped down the freeway into town to have an early dinner.

“Have fun darling,” Loki shouted out the open window of the car as he dropped you off at the arena. You turned back and gave him an unamused smile and flipped him off.

“Yeah, fuck you,” you said with a slight laugh and turned away, waving, “love you dork,” you said over your shoulder. Nat was waiting just inside the arena for you and led you to your seats.

“So one of the perks of dating hockey players? Free seats?” You mused sitting down next to her, the arena was still pretty empty as the game didn’t start for 45 minutes.

“One of them,” she chuckled. Warm ups started and Clint stopped for a moment in front of us and lifted his helmet.

“Hey girls,” he said with a smile before darting off to warm up.

“Looks like Barnes just noticed us,” Nat said as he skated over.

“He had me clocked from the parking lot,” you grumbled. Nat laughed loudly and placed her hand on your shoulder wiping a tear from her eye.

“You’re not wrong,” she said between giggles. Barnes skated forward and came to stop sending glittering flecks of shaved ice toward the glass.

“Nat, Doodle, how's my new favourite girl?” He asked with a cocky smile. You rolled your eyes, and placed your cheek on your hand as you looked at him with a deadpan expression, Nat smirked next to you. You watched as Barnes ran his tongue over his teeth, he then winked and skated off to join warm ups.

“Do the woman he dates actually like that attitude?” You mused absently as you doodled on the open page of your sketchbook. Nat shrugged.

“Honestly, they’re probably more interested in his looks, and don’t care about anything else. That or the potential paycheck he’ll be earning if they can tie him down long enough,” She said softly. Your gut twisted uncomfortably at that, and you grimaced. Sure the guy was an arrogant prick, but he deserved better than that. Nat noticed your facial expression and nodded. “It’s not really fair, there's moments when he’s more than the arrogant show off, he’s pretty sweet. I think he’s just gotten used to hiding it; he doesn't bother being anything else.”

“Be what they expect of you and no one will question it,” you hummed. You mindless doodles turned into a simple sketch of his face. You admired the sharpness of his jaw, his mouth set in a soft line that was slightly upturned.

The game started, and you were too focused on watching Barnes skate to really watch the game. Not that you really understood the sport enough to really understand what was happening in front of you. First intermission passed and they were half through the second period when a black punk landed on your sketch pad. It startled you and your head shot up and you meant Barnes eyes. Nat was giggling next to you as you picked the offending puck up and handed it to the kid sitting behind you, who happened to be wearing a Barnes jersey. The kids day was made and Barnes’ narrowed his eyes at you. You smirked back in return and went back to drawing.

The crowd erupted in loud chants as Barnes scored with less than a second left in the third period, winning the game for your college. You watched as Barnes skated around celebrating his goal only for the captain of the other team to get up in his face. You tensed up as you watched the guy push Barnes shoulders and then grab his protective gear getting in his face.

So the rest of the team came to investigate and there was an all out brawl on the ice right in front of you. You stood up and looked down. Barnes was on top of the captain, his fist raised and he was breathing heavily.

“Bucky,” his name left your lips before you could stop it and he had to have heard you because his face tilted in your direction for a fraction of a second and the captain took that as an opportunity to flip Barnes over and bring a hard fist down on the bridge of his nose. You shrieked as blood gushed out of Barnes’ nose. Nat was standing next to you as you both watched in horror.

You turned your head and saw your college coach hopping the bench and helping refs break it up. Steve hauled the other team's captain off his best friend and shoved him into the arms of other teammates who pulled him further away. Steve helped Barnes up and took his face in his hands, Barnes just gave him a dopey smile. His gaze turned to you for a moment and he smiled a bigger smile. You looked at him with wide eyes and your mouth agape, horrified.

The captain of the other team didn’t look like he fared much better. He was bloody and his eye was swelling shut with each passing second. Coach Fury looked pissed, and was stalking over to the other teams coach for a few words, a ref following close behind.

Taglist: @vicmc624, @calwitch, @learisa, @aaqua-tofana

Feel free you send me a message if you have a request or would like more, or would like to be added to the tag list <3

#bucky imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #marvel #bucky barns imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #hockeyplayer!bucky x artist!reader #college!bucky #college au #college fic #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #reader insert

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write-orflight · 3 years

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Light the Lamp: Chapter 1

**Gif Not Mine**

Prev - Next

Pairings: Bucky Barnes X Reader (Friends to Lovers, College/Hockey AU

Rating: M

Words: 2.2K

Warnings: College kids being college kids, drinking, swearing, talk of sex(No smut yet but will be)

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: Love and Hockey were kind of the same, everyone’s just rushing to score. So why couldn’t you?

A.N Summary bad but I literally couldn’t focus on writing anything else until I finished at least the first chapter of this. let me know what you think, Message/reply/inbox to be tagged.

Chapter 1: 1st Quarter

Hockey wasn’t the sport Bucky wanted to play originally. He wanted to play baseball like his old man but when Steve decided he wanted to take ice skating lessons, he made Bucky tag along so he wouldn’t be the only boy in the class. Soon, they found themselves recruited in the junior rec hockey team and had been playing together ever since. It wasn’t a surprise that when recruitment came around that school’s were trying to pick up both of them. People knew better than to separate Cap from the Winter Soldier. Steve’s nickname was easy to figure out. He had a natural authoritative nature that made him the Captain of almost every team he played on. You never knew why they called Bucky the Winter Soldier until you played against him. Bucky was like an assassin on the ice. While everyone was focused on Steve in Center, Bucky was on left wing scoring the goal before you knew what hit you. So both of them getting recruited to play for the Avengers at Wilmington University wasn’t surprising.

Meeting you was.

At first, it was a sort of form of hazing. When they were starting their Freshman year so was the Coach’s daughter. He had asked senior members of the team to ‘keep an eye on her’ and make sure she didn’t get herself into any trouble. The seniors’ thinking that was lame, were more than happy to pass the task off to the two eager freshmen trying to make a name for themselves. So that’s how it started, The two boys walking you to classes and home from the library late at night, much to your demise.

“I should’ve known my dad was going to do something like this.” You complained when you saw the two boys waiting outside your dorm the first week of classes. “Thanks for coming. But you can tell my dad that I’m not going to be the freak being escorted by hockey jocks everyday.”

“No can do, Doll.” Bucky says. “We leave you, we’re doing drills the rest of practice.”

“Doll? What’re you? A 40s newscaster?” You say, with an annoyed expression walking passed the boys who just followed suit behind you. “Ugh, this is such bullshit. He literally begged me to go to Wilmington and promised I’d be able to have a ‘normal college experience’. What about this is fucking normal?”

“I know it’s less than ideal but hey, we can make the best out of this.” Steve smiles. “I’m Steve, by the way.” He says extending a hand.

You shake it. You couldn’t blame them for your dad not trusting you. “Y/N. You?” You asked the other boy next to you.

“Bucky.” He provides.

“Bucky?” You question.

“Well, it’s James but my friends call me Bucky.”

“And that’s what we are? Friends?” You ask.

“Might as well be, since we’ll be seeing each other a lot this semester.”

And that’s how your semi-unconventional friendship started. Pretty soon, even though your dad had eased up on the 24-hour watch, per your mom's request, you still found yourself walking and getting coffee with the two in the mornings. Even, found yourself waiting in the rinks watching practices so you could hang out afterwards and that became your life for the next two years. Now the three of you we’re entering your Junior year of college. Steve was right back in his title role of Captain, Bucky was now first string Left Wing and you were… still watching from the bleachers. You didn’t mind though, you grew to love the sport due to it being your dad’s profession. Hell, you were on skates before you could even walk. But you never found yourself on the women’s team, Hockey wasn’t something you really wanted to do. You still supported the girls team though, which is why you found yourself watching their practices too.

“Hey, Y/N!” Carol said, skating to the end of the rink where you were sitting next to her girlfriend, Maria. A position you often found yourself in, entertaining player’s girlfriends while they practiced. Maria was cool though, at least you knew about the sport.

“Hey, Marvel.” You called her by her nickname. Thing about Hockey is everyone was called by their nicknames.

“You going to the Sigma Pi party later?” She asks.

“Uh, no one told me about it.” You say, awkwardly.

“I’m telling you now.” Carol says like it's obvious. “You never go out anymore and I refuse to let you become a cat lady before you turn 25. Come over ours at 7, we’ll pregame and head over at 9. What do you say?”

“Fine, I’ll come.” You say.

“Great!” Carol says, pumping a fist before signalling her girlfriend to come closer to the rink. You look away as they kiss. Couples made you uneasy, especially hockey couples. You wanted that more than anything, for your guy to skate up to the gate just to sneak a kiss from you. Not that dating anyone from the team was even an option with you dad coaching. The team saw you as a little sister and if anyone was caught even looking at you in any way, their ass was grass by either your dad or Bucky, who’d become protective of you over the years.

“Marvel, stop flirting with your girlfriend and GET BACK ON THE ICE!” You heard your dad scream.

“Sorry, Couch!” She called. “Sorry, baby i’ve gotta jet. Y/N, don’t forget. 7 o’clock!” She says before skating off.

“I won’t!” You call after her.

---------------------------------------------------------

You can’t help but look at yourself in the mirror awkwardly at the tight Satin dress your roommate, Wanda practically forced you in. You were just going to wear a sweater and jeans, your regular wardrobe but Wanda insisted everyone had seen you in that and what they haven’t seen is you in a dress. Especially, with your new body, you had gotten over the summer working at a sports camp. Who knew running after kids would be such a great form of exercise?

Wanda also did your makeup, something you didn’t typically wear, giving you a natural glow eye, a layer of mascara, and sticky gloss that made your look ‘dewy’ as Wanda described it. You tried to keep your hair in the bun but Wanda insisted you keep your hair down. Saying it made you look hotter, you shrugged knowing you’d have to take her word for it.

The two of you made your way to Carol and Maria’s apartment. Carol swung the door open and looked at you in surprise. “Woah, Ice Baby, you clean up nice.”

“Don’t start, Marvel. And you know how I feel about being called that.” You hated the nickname but since you were the coach’s daughter and you stuck around the rink any chance you got, The seniors had started calling you Ice Baby your freshman year and the nickname unfortunately stuck long after they had gone.

“Right, sorry, I always forget.” Carol said moving out the way for the two of you to come in.

The four of you drink and play games until it’s time to head to the party. You’ve got a pretty strong buzz going as you enter the party and you regret the strappy heels Maria made you borrow before leaving. You’re sitting in the corner when someone comes to sit way too close to you. You look up to see Brock Rumlow, or Rum as the team liked to call him.

“I almost didn’t recognize you, Ice Baby. You look good.”

“My name is Y/N but thank you.” You say, annoyed.

He holds his hands up in mock surrender “I forgot you hate that nickname. Let me bring you a drink to make up for it. What you want.”

“Rum and coke, please.”

“Oh, so you like Rum?” He says, obvious double entendre hanging off his tongue.

“The drink? Yes.”

“You’ll like the man soon enough.” He winks, smirking at the flush that spreads across your cheeks.

The two of you spend the night like that. He brings you drinks and shamelessly flirts with you as you get drunker and drunker. The two of you even dance for a bit in the sea of grinding bodies. Soon you’re telling him a story and a hand drifts to your leg. You turn and he’s much closer to your face than you thought he was.

“Wanna get out of here?” He asks. You nod but before you can even stand, Bucky is there towering over Brock.

“You can leave, Brock. But I’m taking Y/N home.” He says.

Brock rolls his eyes. “Forgot you had a Winter Soldier guard dog. No worries, dude. I’m leaving anyway.” He says, before turning to you. “You’ve got my number, call me if you wanna hang this week.” He says, nodding to Bucky before walking away.

“Ugh, Bucky. What was that for?” You whine, drunkenly.

“You’re drunk. I’m taking you home.” Bucky says. “Come on, stand up.”

You shakingly get up and Buck is there immediately under your arm, his arm around your waist helping you walk out.

The cold breeze hits you as soon as you step foot out the party and take the long trek home.

“I think I drank too much.” You point out.

“You think, kid?” Bucky says. “You’re lucky, I was here meeting Sharon otherwise you would’ve been shit out of luck.”

“Brock would’ve taken me home.”

“Brock’s a lowlife. Don’t worry about him, I’ve got you.”

You sigh. “Sorry for ruining your night with your girlfriend.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll call her when I make sure you get home so if you could pick up the pace.”

“My feet hurt.” You complain.

“Yea, I bet. God, when did you start wearing heels, Doll?”

“I wanted to look good tonight.” You sigh.

“You always look good.”

“Fine, I wanted to look hot.” You provide. “For once, I wanted to be the one guys paid attention to at parties.”

“You can be yourself for that, Y/N.” Bucky says. “You’re a catch.”

“If I was, someone would’ve fucked me by now.” You drunkenly admit. That makes Bucky double-take. “I mean, think about it? 3 years into my college career, I turn 21 in a couple months and still it's where no man’s gone before down there.”

“Y/N, are you saying you’re--”

“A virgin? Yea, Bucky catch up.” You groan at the pain in your feet. Bucky looks and takes sympathy on you.

“Here take off your shoes.” He says, toeing his off as well and sliding them over to you.

“You’re just going to walk barefoot?” You ask, putting on the shoes, holding your heels in your hand.

“Better than you walking barefoot.” He shrugs.

“Anyway, I decided over the summer that maybe I was putting too much thought into it. I mean almost everyone loses their virginity in high school and it's never good, no one ever says their first time was good. I just thought maybe I should just, you know, get it over with.” You slur. “Which is what I was trying to do until you chased my date away. God, you always do that, Bucky.”

“I’m not fighting with you while you’re drunk.” Bucky says, trying to get you to drop the subject but you persist.

“Every time I try to talk to a guy, you butt in--”

“Maybe I wouldn’t butt in if you picked the right guys for you.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the guys I pick! You’re just a cockblock.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yea what about Charles? He asked me on a date freshman year and took it back not even an hour later. I had to beg Steve to tell me why and it turned out that you threatened him if he even thought about going out with me.”

“Y/N, you had just turned 18 and X was a 24 year old senior! I didn’t trust how he was just waiting. So yea, I told him to fuck off. And Rum is an asshole who can’t get a girl to sleep with him unless they’re shitfaced. So yea, I told him to fuck off.” Bucky exclaims as the two of you make it up the stairs to your apartment. “Y/N, you’ll find someone right for you and that right person will make your first time special. I just want you to find someone who’ll make you happy.”

“And I just want you to remember for next time that if you want to tell a girl who she can and can’t fuck, you have Sharon for that. Not me.” You said, taking off the shoes as you arrived at your front door.

“Y/N, wait--” You hear him say but you don’t care, you slam the door in his face regardless.

Who did Bucky think he was? Sure, he was your best friend but so was Steve and he’s not nearly as protective as Bucky was. You honestly couldn’t tell who was worse at this point, your dad or Bucky. You loved both of them but they had the fatal flaw of forgetting you weren’t a kid. You were a woman, a woman with needs. And one particular need you needed to get rid of.

So you picked up your phone and called Brock. Bucky couldn’t be right about everything.

Taglist: @buckybarneshairpullingkink @riverofcrestmont @babymango-writes @astralsaf @gabi-socio @hereforalongtime512

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barns x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #captain america #tfatws

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wandasfifthwife · 1 month

Text

(5) my hands are cold, warm them? ✩‧₊˚ competing series

hockey coach!wanda x fem!ex ice skater reader

tw: fluffy cheesy skating fun, suggestive content throughout chapter but NO smut (it’s suggested though), slight make out at the end, oral (giving head) mentioned, reference to r’s past injury

a/n: LAST CHAPTER ON MAIN STORY!! not edited/proofread. I finished this half asleep so I’m sorry if the end is shitty af

prev chap ✩ ══╡˚m.list˚╞══ ✩ next chap

You tell her that you’re fine again to try and ease the tension on Wanda’s face. She’s standing over you, miserably failing at taming her overprotective tendencies.

A week ago you asked her to skate with you. She looked just as concerned then as she does now.

You finish the last ties on your skates. She helps you stand, her hands hovering near you while you test out the tightness of your skates.

“How long has it been since you’ve last worn them?”

“Since Christmas a year ago,” you lean down to pull the left strings tighter, “I went skating with my brother’s family.”

“Might be why they look like they’re cutting off circulation.”

You shoot her a look, facing her as you step onto the ice. She crosses the ice with ease, reaching a hand out to pull you into her. Her body eases at the sound of your laugh echoing through the rink.

“Please be careful,” she says when you pull away from her warmth.

“I’m not going to do anything my pt’s advised me not to.”

You simply skate around. No thoughts running through your mind as you circle the rink. Wanda gives you time to decompress, finding herself at the opposite end until she finds you looking towards her.

“I want to race you,” you stop and she almost runs into your back.

“Baby,” she wraps her arms around your waist and lifts you with ease, “why? It wouldn’t even be a race.”

“Why?”

“Because you’d loose.”

You push at her arms, begging her to put you down, “I want to try.”

She sets you down once you’ve reached the edge of the rink. You pull a dramatic pout at her serious expression. Your hand brushes her cheek, bringing her face close to press a quick kiss to her chapped lips.

“Don’t worry, I know my limits. This is just for fun.”

“Who said it’ll only be for fun?”

You smile against her cheek, “trying to place a bet?”

“What should the winner get?”

“Oral.”

She laughs, wiggling out of your tighter hold. You grow shy after your claim, but it’s the first thing that came to mind. She counts down, each callout feeding into your nerves. She barely reaches one and you both have the same idea to push off early.

It wasn’t close. Wanda touching the other side while you were making your way past the halfway mark. She’s barely out of breath waiting at the end for you.

“I’m sure you would’ve won if you didn’t have to listen to your pt.”

“Definitely,” you hold her hand, changing the conversation quickly, “show me how hockey players pass a puck.”

It was to avoid bringing up the embarrassment earlier. She falls easily, getting off the ice to grab what’s needed to show you. The time passes by quickly, she kicks the puck onto the ice. It skids, sliding until it stops near you.

“See the tape wrapped around the bottom,” she asks, continuing when you hum, “that’s where you want to aim the puck into.”

She taps it, giving an example of what she means. The stick is then handed over to you. The wood felt awkward in your hands as you angled it. She presses chest into your back, setting her hands onto yours.

“You’re angling it out too far,” her breath hits your neck as she speaks, “jut the blade out flat with the ice.”

When she’s satisfied with your posture she’s stepping back to let you hit. You knock it to the left, it spinning and hitting against the wall. You turn, finding her on her knees with tears in her eyes.

“I tried.”

“What did you just do,” she wheezes out.

“I tried to hit it,” you grow mildly frustrated, “fine, let’s see you try a basic spin.”

She sobers up during your explanation, making a few comments on how the sport doesn’t make sense to her. It was your turn to laugh at her stiff attempts, one even landing her on the ground.

The small competitions turned into genuine interest in each other’s sport. She had more success than you, eventually landing a solid turn after many, many tries.

You weren’t able to complete half of her skills, limited by the movement your ankle can handle. She still showed you, patience lined in her words and action with each question you had, and vise versa.

It was when your ankle got tired—the ache growing—when you spoke your concern to her. She had no need to, but she carried you off the rink, proceeding to take your skates off herself.

“I’m impressed by that last turn of yours,” you giggle at her finger touching the underside of your foot, “could become a pro with that move.”

“Hey, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Hear what, that you’re not a scary hockey player?”

“You think hockey players are intimidating?”

“All of them excluding you.”

Her fingers are grabbing at your thighs and pulling you to hang off of the end of the bleacher, “that’s not what your actions said last night.”

The second you feel her leg press against you, you’re rolling your eyes and pushing her off. Taking the strings from her hands you finish undoing the knots yourself.

“I’m glad we did this,” you start, watching her undo her own knots, “thank you for asking them if we could use the space by ourselves.”

Her response is placing a sweet kiss to your forehead.

─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ───

“That’s so stupid,” you throw your hand at the screen, “why’s that a foul?”

“Малы́шка, that wasn’t a foul.”

“Oh,” you snuggled back into her chest more. She had a hand running down your back, eyes glued on the screen. You learned more about her each day, one of those being that she took games seriously.

She was rushing when you got back, her nerves obvious in how she flung in and out of the shower. You on the other hand took your time not wishing to upset your ankle any further.

She held her arms out when she noticed you walk into the living room, inviting you to practically lay on top of her.

Her nails brushed past a particularly sensitive spot on your back, goosebumps littering your body from the action.

“Why’d they put him in the box?”

“Because he tried to punch our players.”

Correction. You’ve learned a lot about Wanda since you’ve started dating her. Something that she took seriously was you.

It was growing increasingly difficult keeping her focus on the tv. Your fresh smell from your shampoo had her breathing begin to grow heavier.

You were unsuspecting to how she had begun to slide her hand under your shirt, her mouth bitting at the skin on your neck. The tv was her focus still, the announcer being what she focused on and definitely not how she caught onto each gasp you let out.

The game had five minutes left. Wanda’s attention would snap into focus whenever the scores began to come close, but a majority of those five minutes were spent with her hands running along your thighs. A majority of those five minutes were spent with her creating dark marks on your neck to hear your pretty responses.

You moaned her name and the last thirty seconds of the game were forgotten. She pulled you under her, hands bringing yours to intertwine together behind her head. She kissed you dizzy. Each time you pulled back for air she was tilting her head and pulling you back into her.

“Remember our little bet?”

You pull at her hair, your confirmation coming out as a whine after she pulls your hips down onto her thigh. The tv sounds in the background, going over the top plays from the game while she works you up to release on her tongue.

─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ───

The tv lights up the room. A flurry of colors from random ads is the only source of light you have when you wake up. Wanda was asleep beside you, facing the wall. You had to remind yourself at times that her apartment wasn’t yours because of how at home you felt.

A rush of emotions filled you, catching you off guard, and yet they were welcomed. You turned to cuddle Wanda, pushing your face into her neck. It was incredibly early, your clock’s flashing blue light showing it was 4:03AM. Wanda stirs, a sleepy hand finding the hand you had on her hip.

“You okay?”

You peruse your lips to just brush on the spot under the ear, “‘m good.”

“Okay, love you.”

She should and shouldn’t have said those two little words. She meant it, which is why she said it, but the reaction you had was expected.

“I love you,” you tear up, pressing closer to her, “don’t leave.”

She turns to face you, eyes half shut, showing how tired she was but she still made an effort. Her fingers brush under your blanket to hold your hands, “I’m not leaving.”

You had nights spent similarly to this. Four AM conversations about her struggles, your relationship with your mother, and the occasional light hearted conversations that had you both giggling like maniacs. The night tonight felt special, intimate. Your nightmares fell far away whenever you woke up to her body laid beside you, soft voice talking through any fear you had.

She presses a kiss onto your head, “not leaving now or tomorrow.”

“Yeah?”

She mumbles into your hair, her words growing unintelligible as she drifts back off again, but the one thing you heard over and over again was the word love.

You reach up to kiss the top of her head this time, whispering, “I love you too, so much.”

prev chap ✩ ══╡˚m.list˚╞══ ✩ next chap

@dorabledewdroop @aru-son @thelittleliars @sokovianbaby @natsbiggestfan1 @r0manxff @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @emiliaisdead @esposadejoyhuerta @casquinhaa @scarlettbitchx @shinysuitcloud @xxsekhmet

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wandasfifthwife · 1 month

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@xxxtwilightaxelxxx came up with such a cute idea 😭

hockey coach!Wanda and R were by each other during their time practicing each other’s sport unknowingly. Like maybe she was just a rink down and passed by her but neither knew omg

I’m going to be putting out small one shots that explain little details in the main story—one will be on R opening up about her injury & abusive mother to W 😘

—> competing series masterlist

#this is so cute #hockey coach!wanda x reader #hockey coach!wanda #coach!wanda x reader #coach!wanda #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #competing series

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wandasfifthwife · 2 months

Text

⋆ ˚｡ competing series masterlist ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⁺

— hockey player/coach!wanda x fem!ex figure skater reader

it was an accident when you were in your later teens that stopped you from continuing figure skating. Your nephew joins a hockey team and you’re obligated to drive him to practice. You had nothing but support for him in the beginning, wishing for another to enjoy an ice based sport like you, but after a week you meet the coach. It was friendly banter until you two took it too far.

𓍢ִ໋🏒₊⊹ main story ⊹ ࣪ ˖ completed

1.8k ʚɞ running into you

2.1k ʚɞ cheeks turning red

1.9k ʚɞ locker room ***

2.1k ʚɞ bruised ego

1.6k ʚɞ my hands are cold, warm them? ***

𓍢ִ໋⛸️₊⊹ side fics ⊹ ࣪ ˖ after main

2.1k ༯ beginners episode

1.5k ༯ fuck me like you mad at me baby ***

2.3k ༯ your jealousy is showing (on me) ***

1.1k ༯ 4 times wanda got needy + 1 time reader did ***

2.4k ༯ injured

1.6k ༯ she tell me keep fucking cause she love this shit ***

1.3k ༯ make you mine ***

2.2k ༯ birthdays

0.0k ༯ nightmares | coming soon

𓍢ִ໋🥅₊⊹ snippets

༯ wanda’s jersey ***

༯ away games ***

𓍢ִ໋❄️₊⊹ random

༯ difference between mommy!wanda & daddy!wanda

༯ mood board

༯ hockey!wanda as gifs

༯ hockey!wanda as an edit audio

༯ the series’s playlist ***

༯ nsfw alphabet ***

𓍢ִ໋💌₊⊹ brainrot

post #1 ***

post #2 ***

post #3 ***

post #4

post #5 ***

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wandasfifthwife · 9 days

Text

your jealousy is showing (on me)✩‧₊˚

—> hockey player/coach!wanda x afab!reader

tw || SMUT MDNI, top wanda x bottom reader, dom/sub dynamics, established relationship, jealous wanda, exhibition (janitor closet), marking/impact play (hickeys, bruises, thigh spanking), fingering (r receiving), r gets hit on but is oblivious, tyler mention!, reader is said to be wearing a dress, person who hits on r sees the two of them, not proofread!

a/n || in such a slut for this woman. so sorry if my writing is nastier than coconut, idk how I feel about it haha but I hope you enjoy bc this made me hot and bothered tbh

series m.list ✩ ══╡˚2.3k words˚╞══ ✩ wanda m.list

Practice has been going well, better even. There’s been an increase in number since people started to find out that wanda has experience on the ice as a player on a professional team. The stands have become packed, families and friends taking up every corner, a completely contrast from before. You remember the days when you first came with your nephew, sitting and having a seven feet distance from another person. Tyler’s since graduated from wanda’s class, now attending another with a different coach.

It was a sad day for him, hugging your girlfriend tight and exclaiming how he wishes to have her as a coach for every class. She had laughed, resting a hand on his back and reassured him that she’ll attend his other classes. She even went as far as to mention private classes, saying they can spend time together on the ice. A smile had come upon your face as you watched the two interact, thankful your nephew is able to have such a wonderful relation with his coach, your girlfriend.

Since then you’ve been attending his classes with Wanda. You can’t help yourself, curling a hand through her arm to hold her close. You complain that it’s the cold, but you both know it’s a shit excuse. Regardless, she’s never going to turn you down, if anything she’s pulling you tighter and pressing a kiss to your head.

“He’s improved a lot. Lately he’s been practicing outside his house with some friends on the street.”

“That’s probably the only reason why he’s able to skate in a straight row now. Do you think he’ll continue to play?”

“I think so. It’s all he talks about, but of course we can’t say definitive terms. He could fall out of love with it in a year and choose like baseball.”

“If he were to choose another sport it’d be football, not baseball. His favorite part of hockey is running into others, he forgets there’s an actual game going on.”

You stifle a laugh, “he’s trying.”

He proved Wanda’s words to be correct because the next second he’s slamming into one of the team members, pummeling the two into the wall. The coach had come to talk to you after, seeking you where you stood by the concession stand. You had a hand on Wanda’s arm, informing her of where you’ll be.

You were paying for the snack, thanking the person behind the counter. He had stood behind you just out of your line of sight, so just enough that you ran into him when turning around. His shirt smelled of sweat and his cologne, a lot of his cologne, so much so it overwhelmed you.

“Hey, you’re tyler’s mom, right?”

“No, just his aunt.”

“My bad. Sorry that was terribly rude of me, I was going to say you look good for your age.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind.”

“Of course,” he flashes a smile, leaning onto one of the tables beside him, “I’ve notice how often you come, it’s great that you’re supporting him like this. Most kid’s don’t have such a supportive aunt.”

“I try. My brother and his wife are busy, so I take over. He’s means well but he’s still a young teen.”

“Yes. He’s nothing new. A lot of teens enjoy the physical aspect to the game, it’s normal for them to be competitive even with each other.”

A few minutes have gone by, enough time for concern to begin swirling through Wanda’s mind. She’s relieved to see you’ve not gone missing and that you’re all in one piece, standing only a few feet from her.

“That’s my coach,” Tyler starts, seeing how Wanda’s attention was directed at the tow of you.

“I know,” she deadpans, turning her attention back on your nephew, “finish untying your shoes.”

“I know,” he mimics, tone lowering to frustrate her further.

You’re walking back over with a grin plastered on your face. Tyler’s already grabbing at the drink you got, pulling it from your hands to open it already.

“Just talked with your new coach, Tyler. It seems you have a track record with finding amazing coaches.”

Already Wanda didn’t like him. She kept quiet about her disdain, knowing how important it was to you that Tyler doesn’t come to contact with a terrible one as you had.

It grew difficult. Each practice he always seemed to find you, drawing out a long conversation with you. Usually it’s fine, as a coach herself she understands the important of keeping up with the families, but this was excessive. The constant parade of compliments directed at you were unnecessary. He wouldn’t really care to talk to Tyler, and as far as she knew, Wanda didn’t exist around him. He’s either dumb, or he’s choosing to be ignorant towards the intimacy between you two.

What brought her to the edge was when he began to touch you, a hand on your shoulder or the back of your waist. It was in moments where it could’ve been excused; done to either move you out of the way or make sure you don’t trip.

You were sweet, engaging in a conversation he had started yet again down at the end of the bleachers. Wanda had her attention set on Tyler skating around before practice, eyes flickering to where the two of you stood every minute.

“I have a conference this weekend and we’re allowed to bring a plus one. Would you be interested in joining me?”

“Oh. I already have someone that I’m going with. So I won’t be going with you, but I will see you there.”

He looks disappointed, eyes shooting to meet Wanda’s, “I’ll see you there then.”

Wanda doesn’t like that man.

You walk up the stairs all sweet-like, sitting beside her and placing a kiss to her cheek, “when’s that coach award event again?”

“Saturday, 7PM.”

You hum, leaning your head on her shoulder, “you better win an award.”

“If not, I have you.”

An elbow shoves into her side, “you’re such a sap.”

“No, I just love you,” she murmurs, pressing her lips against yours, feeling like she’s won when she catches the coach looking. She had hoped the soft public display of affection would be enough of a sign to back off, but it wasn’t.

The weekend came soon enough. Wanda standing by the door with her keys in hand as she waits for you to join her.

“Beautiful,” she says when you step down, opening the door for you.

“I hope you win one award, that would be amazing.”

“It would look great for my public imagine,”she laughs at the look you give her, “you know I don’t care about that, love.”She gives your thigh a squeeze before backing the car out of her apartment complex.

She should’ve known he’d be stuck to you most of the night. Wanda tries to engage in the conversation, but he tunes her out, keeping his attention on you. Ever so sweet you try to include her, smiling back at her but this time it’s not enough to quell how she’s feeling.

“Hey Micheal, can you go grab her another drink?”

“Wanda, I can’t—“

She shuts you up by pinching at your waist, cutting your sentence off. He looks mildly annoyed, “sure.”Once he’s turned around, she’s guiding you out of the room.

“Wanda there’s only like sixteen minutes until the ceremony—“ your mouth goes numb when you realize where she’s walking you towards. There’s a closet at the end of the hall, tiny and small as its only purpose is to hold supplies for the janitors. Tonight it will be used for another matter.

“That’s enough time,” she says lowly, shutting the door behind her, enclosing the two of you in darkness.

She’s lifting you with her hands under your thighs, dropping you down onto the extra school desk stored away in the room. Her body’s leans into you, hands on either side of your body as she kisses you passionately. They turn messy, trailing from the corner of your lips to end up on the bottom side of your neck. You gasp when she bites down, a hand reaching to push at her chest.

“Wan—wait.”

She doesn’t listen, too focused on making your neck show an array of purple marks. You whine, squirming in her hold as she leaves one after the other, stopping only on areas that you’re sensitive to. She’s severely quiet, attentive to every heavy breath and sound coming from you. You’re weak, arms wrapped around her neck, head pressed into the wall behind you. You’ve completely given up control, neck tilted back to give her more room.

“Oh—” you shiver when she moves towards the spot behind your neck. Your reaction gave her another reason to press her lips against it, nipping at the skin there.

Her ministrations leave you wet, your hips grind down onto the desk below you to try to seek relief. Wanda coos, cold fingers sliding under your dress, finding the wetness between your thighs. You cry out when she thrusts two in, pushing through your tight walls. It’s intoxicating, the wet sounds filling the room, turning you on even more.

“Ah! Wands—you—“

She’s shushing you, lips on yours to keep you quiet. Her fingers are splitting you open, angling perfectly towards the spot that makes your back arch. Her thumb catches onto your clit with each thrust, brushing perfectly to make you see white. You weave your fingers into her hair, moaning into her mouth when she bites at your bottom lip.

You’ve completely forgotten about the event, and most importantly, Michael. You’re clenching onto her finger, arousal covering her hand and dripping onto the wood below you. You choke on a moan when she’s guiding you to lift your left foot onto the desk, the position spreading you open to allow her fingers to push deeper. The bottom of your dress slips up, clothing pooling around your waist. You feel your orgasm build, a series of whimpers spilling from you.

“Fucking say my name when you come,” she demands, holding back moan when she hears your strangled whine after she brought her hand down onto your thigh. The way your cunt squeezes around her fingers then makes her weak.

“Like that?”

She’s cocky, hand coming down harder on that same spot.

“ah! wands please—“

Your body jerks after her fifth slap, mouth dropping open in a silent scream. She nuzzles against your head resting on her shoulder. You relaxed into her hole, breathing heavily as you come down from your high.

It was fine until wanda carried you into the bathrooms to clean off and you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, easily spotting the splotches painting your neck.

You leaned over the sink to get a better view, eyes snapping between the marks; the one by your ear, another under the strap of your dress, one more at the base of your neck. You weren’t aware of the severity of her actions in the moment, your mind was too busy trying to deal with the fuzziness spreading throughout your body.

“Was that okay,” she asks from where she stands by the entrance.

“Very,” you mumble, looking back to her with a smile.

“Hey, I want to apologize. I knew something was wrong,” you say, grabbing a paper towel from the machine, “he was a jerk to you. Like just earlier he wasn’t letting you get a word in, but I really just thought he was being nice at first.”

“You’re fine, love.”

You wet the towel, rubbing warm water over the cloth to get it wet, “you say that but I still feel bad.”

She crosses the room to grab at your wrist after seeing what you were doing, “why’re you trying to rub the marks off?”

“Because?”

She raises an eyebrow, “because? What?”

“This is your event, I don’t want you to loose your job over me.”

“I won’t,” she tosses the towel away, “I knew what I was doing when I gave you those.”

“But the staff—“

“There’s enough of them screwing around.”

“Oh.”

She huffs, hooking a finger under the hem of your dress, drawing it up your thigh until the red, swollen marks on your thighs from where she was aiming her hand earlier begin to show. You hate how affected you get by the sight of them, thighs squeezing together.

You were only meant to be gone for ten minutes. That was the original goal, but she began to fold with how you were looking at her. Your eyes were dark, locking onto hers from within the mirror. She had you pinned to the counter in seconds, forcing you to watch how easily you melt under her touch.

Footsteps echoed throughout the hallway, getting closer to where the two of you stood. You had begun to push back, mumbles on how she needs to stop so they don’t get caught, but it’s like she knew. You caught on later, realizing it was Micheal by the sound of his voice calling out to you.

“Wanda, he—“

She’s slapping a hand over your mouth, pulling you back against her chest. You look over your shoulder, finding Micheal freeze after entering into the room. Wanda had you in a position only he could dream of. He was like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing as he processed what he was looking at. The marks on your body, eyes glossy and faraway even as you look in his direction. The muscles in Wanda’s arm flex as she presses her hand tighter against your mouth. You’re absolutely dripping, excitement pooling from the behavior this man was bringing out of her.

“I was worried… but I see you’re.. okay.”

“I see you’ve met my girlfriend, Micheal?”

series m.list ✩ ══╡˚2.3k words˚╞══ ✩ wanida m.list

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wandasfifthwife · 2 months

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(1) running into you ✩‧₊˚ competing series

hockey coach!wanda x fem!ex figure skater reader

tw: creepy man hits on r, flirting (r and w), mentions to past injury (r), some mommy issues mentioned whoops, the nephew’s name is Tyler (💀)

a/n: not proofread oopsies. DON’T steal/repost my works. anyways enjoy this piece of shit. I’ll come back and edit this later.

prev chap ✩ ══╡˚m.list˚╞══ ✩ next chap

It’s a transition going from spending every minute in the rink to living vicariously through your nephew’s newfound interest in the ice. You’ve been taking him to lessons since his parents, your brother, has had to work every minute to make a decent living.

Seeing an ice rink after two years was strangely nostalgic. Spending every waking hour here until you’d gone and screwed your leg during practice.

You would’ve been better off without your coach at the time, your mom, yelling in your ear to get up. It’s in the past and you’re hoping it stays there.

Your nephew was about young teen, unfortunately a stereotypical teen boy who played sports. He was a good kid, but too confident for his own good and feeling the need to size up other players.

The coach of the team had been running them through drills. They were mainly on how to skate and learning specific techniques for hockey such as stopping quickly. He was picking it up quick, again too confident in his efforts but it did get him somewhere.

“Who’s yours?”

You faced the man beside you, “I’m sorry?”

He pointed, waving his finger around and it clicked for you. You waved him off, saying you were here for your nephew.

“Is he your sister’s? Your brother’s?”

“My brother’s. He’s thirteen.”

“And picking it up now? That’s a bit late.”

You laugh, “what?”

The man shrugs and leans back, “he may not be able to make varsity. I mean look.”

The frustration burned through you, feeling annoyed at his audacity. You begin to grab your stuff and move down the bleachers.

“These are kids, and they can do it as a social pastime. I did figure skating and I made it into the region competitions. I was thirteen.”

The man scoffs, “I’m talking about the young boy here and an actual sport, not twirling on the ice. I mean you didn’t go far if you’re here on a Monday night.”

With a shake of your head, you leave and officially move away to the other set of bleachers, closer to where the players got off the ice. It was surprising how aggressive some parents were with their kids doing a sport. It concerned you how concerned they were with their kid succeeding in a sport they once did.

You had sat near the railing towards the bottom, resting your head on it. There was an attempt made to forget your coursing adrenaline, watching your nephew work on sliding across the ice.

It was futile, especially with the way the man was holding his stare in your direction. Whatever his problem was, you wanted nothing to do with it. Men were weird, especially when they’re under some sort of influence.

The group huddled together in the rink, the words being spoken echoed throughout the room. The only word you understood was when they announced their team chant.

You waved back at your nephew when he skated by the window, mouthing something about, “watching him.” It was practice time, where they’re given ten minutes to skate around and practice what they learned.

He flailed around but he still got up proud, acting as if his stop and falling onto the ground was meant to happen. It was amusing, but entertaining and failed for you to realize the man was walking near you yet again.

“Hey ma’am, sorry for the inconvenience. I just thought you were quite beautiful.”

You cringe, “being mean is your flirting technique?”

“Usually chicks dig it.”

You nod and look back to your nephew but he’s relentless and doesn’t want to take no for an answer, even stepping closer to you.

“You alright here miss?”

A woman in skates appeared near you two. She was adjusting the heavy coat around her shoulders, moving to take it off with the obvious sweat on around her face and neck.

The man speaks for you, “we’re fine.”

She raises her eyebrow and tosses the coat onto the bleachers, eyes slowly looking to you for confirmation. You move away from the man and it was enough confirmation.

“Hey buddy, she’s not interested. There’s plenty of fish in the sea but a woman twenty years younger than you isn’t the move.”

With a patronizing smile and wave he began to yell at his son to leave. You thanked her, moving to do the same when she stopped you.

“Who’re you here for?”

“Tyler, what’re you here for?”

She looks confused for a moment, making a subtle gesture towards the skates on her feet, “I’m the coach.”

You swear you feel your confidence melt into a puddle. How long have you been taking him to practices and you’ve never cared to greet the coach?

“I’m terrible sorry,” you put your hand out to shake hers, “I should have introduced myself when I had begun to take him to practice. It’s nice to meet you.”

She smiles and pushes your hand away, “no need. How’re you feeling though, need someone to walk you to your car?”

“That’s quite alright, I believe I’ll be fine.”

Your nephew exits the rink then, coming to sit near you two and untie his skates. He either didn’t notice you two conversing or he didn’t care, because he had come barreling in. You take his helmet off, reminding him to not forget his bag in the locker room.

“You did a great job today, Tyler, how’re you feeling about your stops now?”

“I’m definitely better. I think I’m better than Micah too, he slides into the walls. Man has no clue on how to slide.”

She hums, “then I’ll see you tomorrow. Night.”

He waved and begins to walk behind the bleachers towards the locker room, and she looks back to you.

“I could stand at the door and make sure you two get to your car? I can see him standing at the tables looking this way. My word, is he drunk or something?”

You look and find him standing outside by himself and accept her assistance. It wasn’t that you necessarily trusted her, but she was more trustworthy than the other.

She grabs her coat and stuff on the seat, ready to go just as Tyler had ran out from the locker rooms. He smelt terrible and for some reason felt the need to stand where his sweat melted onto your skin.

“Maximoff what drills are we doing tomorrow?”

She looks relaxed, her eyes focused on him and tone kind while it feels your nerves are spiking when you see the man in your peripheral vision. He doesn’t seem to pay you any mind anymore, he looked distant while his son finished packing up.

“Okay, I’m heading off. Have a good night you two,” she looks to one more time, and you mouth your thanks. She jerks her car door open, throwing her stuff in and climbing in after.

“I love Maximoff. She’s a great coach, very professional if I could add.”

You shove him into the car, and start driving out of the parking lot. It’s fun to watch someone gain traction in a sport and see how much they enjoy learning the next steps to getting better.

“Are you staying for dinner tonight?”

“I am. Your parents aren’t getting back until later tonight, so I’m staying over tonight. Anything you want to do?”

He doesn’t seem very interested in anything you suggest, wanting to go to bed right after you both have dinner. And it’s understandable.

He had gone to bed four hours before his parents had finally begun to come home, your brother being the first home. He found you on the couch, “hey, how’re you?”

“It’s swell. I got hit on at the rink, but other than that it’s fine. Tyler’s asleep now.”

“You got hit on at the rink?”

“Opened with insults and everything.”

He empties his water bottle, his voice slightly muffled from where he was in the house, “are you okay with continuing to bring him to practice? I feel bad enough as it is. We can’t thank you enough.”

“No it’s fine. It was just sudden. I enjoy being able to see you all often,” you dangle your keys, “I’m going to head back to my apartment, I unfortunately have work tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow, get home safe. Maybe tomorrow we can all eat dinner this weekend, we’d like to catch up”

“I’d love to. Sleep well, goodnight,” you wave before shutting the door behind you.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ✧ ⋆ ˚｡⋆

“Tyler,” you say while finishing tying his skates, “I don’t want you to hang around Josh anymore okay? He’s a terrible influence.“

“But he’s the second best. At least he isn’t sliding into the walls.”

“I mean his personally is shit, just focus on learning the fundamentals and talk with the others.”

“Isn’t that a bad word—”

“Just get on the ice.”

He puts his hands up in offense and stumbles into the rink. You wipe your hands on your pants, “I swear—“

“That you do,” she comes beside you.

She sets her bags down beside you, leaning her shoulder against the wall. Your attention follows her fingers, a part of you hating the way she’s tying her skates. The other part got caught judging from the expression on her face.

“Are you judging how I tie my skates?”

You get slightly flustered, apologizing and fearing you’ve made her uncomfortable but all it does is grow the smile that was already there.

“Should be sorry unless you have a valid reason.”

“I figure skated,” you blurt and she looks amused.

“Do you still skate?”

“Not anymore after an injury my junior year.”

She looks earnest in her apology. In a response to not spiral you laugh it off.

“I bet it’s painful to realize you won’t be able to enjoy your passion again, but you’re here supporting him.”

“It’s not the end of the world, but it’s disappointing,” you laugh, “And of course, Tyler loves hockey. Especially when he has a coach like you.”

She leans to grab her coat, “what’s special about me?”

It’s something you’re still learning. That being how you have a knack for being flirty when you aren’t usually meaning to. In this moment though? You don’t mind.

You smile cruelly, “it’s 2:00.”

She checks her watch for confirmation and dramatically steps back onto the ice with a sigh. You feel your heart race from within your chest at the look she gave you after.

It felt like you were being called out. Her attention was on you before and after each practice. You enjoyed familiarizing yourself with your nephew’s coach (by familiarizing you mean flirting). It would make sense to leave everything where it was, but you didn’t want to.

You learned it was more than a simple surface friendship with your nephew’s coach when she slipped her number into your back pocket. And maybe the details on there that she wanted to take you out that Saturday at 8.

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#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x fem!reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maxmoff x y/n #hockey coach!wanda

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wandasfifthwife · 1 month

Text

(3) locker room ✩‧₊˚ competing series

hockey coach!wanda x fem!ex figure skater reader

tw: SMUT MDNI, r has a v&breasts, top wanda, bottom r, service dom!wanda, r is a bit needy, wanda absolutely goes feral once given the green light, oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), wanda uses the shower head on r, sort of public sex (locker room shower), cum kink if you squint

a/n: not proofread. THE SMUT IS HERE LMAO. I was a bit too excited to write and publish this, I’ll come back and edit later. Anyways enjoy this filth.

prev chap ✩ ══╡˚m.list˚╞══ ✩ next chap

It was all a performance. Every shy touch pushing the narrative, cultivating confident hand placements. The hand on your shoulder would find itself on your waist, pulling you towards her.

The first time she kissed you she was nervous, her hands holding you close but still at a distance. Every one since then has been pushing you down a dangerous path. They all made you want more, you wanted to fall over the edge with her.

The desire was growing each day. When she kissed you goodnight. When she placed a hand on your inner thigh. When she ran her eyes over your body. It made your legs weak.

Earlier in the day, just as the sun was rising she had been at your apartment. It was an easy Saturday morning, resting in each other with the tv in the background. Light touches almost hovering over each other.

You felt like you were floating, goosebumps lining your body as her fingers drew chills.

She paid you no mind, whether intentional or not she was stirring your emotions. Her eyes were focused on the screen, an occasional whispered compliment on whatever the house designing show had to showcase. It was infuriating almost. Her lips would sometimes touch your neck, a gentle touch here and there. She had strung you up and left you there when she had to leave for an appointment.

You laid where you once were, unsure of what to do until her contact showed up on your phone. She sounded out of breath as she asked you to come to the arena. You clambered into your car, almost speeding down the roads.

You didn’t give much of a hint as to where she was, last thing mention on the phone was that she was in the gym. The problem was that it was empty save for one man on the stair climber. You passed by without a care, feet wondering into where the ground turned into tiles.

There were a multitude of lockers aligning the wall, which were all off except for one. One had a small sign, the red light giving away that it was occupied as opposed to the surrounding green LEDs.

You called out her name, walking towards the showers and not thinking to check behind you. There were enclosed spaces, each separated by a wall. You walked to one, feeling bored so you pull at the level until the water came pouring down. It was in way better condition than you originally assumed.

Wet footprints sounded behind you, slight nerves picking up in fear it might be another woman besides the one you came looking for. They were eased when she came into view, a towel in her hand.

“You got here quick. I was going to try and shower before,” she emphasizes her words by lifting her towel up. Your eyes follow the movement and how it extends her muscles.

You feel your heart pick up, the feeling she had started before coming back to life. You point behind you, nonsense coming from you, “I don’t mind waiting, I could take a shower as well. My water bill is expensive.”

“Okay,” she says and begins to set her stuff at the one right beside the one you were standing at. You shouldn’t be surprised, but you had wished she would make a move. That she would hint at wanting to join you, maybe showing interest in you sexually.

You breathe deep and undress where you are, closing the curtain just before doing so. You reach a hand out to set your clothes on an outside bench. The water was hot, the smoke rising and collecting on the surrounding black tiles. It was much nicer than the shower you had at home and it genuinely surprised you.

She realized before you, calling out and saying she had soap if you needed. Her tone was teasing, asking if you were here to take a dry shower. You called out for her to hand it to you. The curtain made its clinking sound, causing your heart to fall out of your chest. You flinch, freezing as you come face to face with her. Her completely clothed body contrasting yours.

Her eyes flicker between your face and bare skin. No words escape her, face neutral as she hands you the soap and leaves with a jerk to the curtain.

It made your heart jump out of your chest when a second later you hear her curse. She brushes past the curtains again, descending towards you. It was two steps before your back collides with the shower wall.

A protest is taken from you when her lips collide with yours. She spreads your hands out beside you, intertwining them and holding them. There’s a forceful pressure in how you’re held between her body and the wall behind you. A heat builds within you and around the two of you as you drown in each other.

Her lips find the sensitive spot on your neck, pulling a moan from you, “can’t resist, I can’t wait anymore.”

She slides your arms to wrap around her neck, “I need to hear you say you want this. I’ll drop everything if you’re not ready.”

You smile and nod as you vocalize your consent. She’s lifting your left leg with a hand dragging under your thigh and propping it on her waist.

“At any time you need to stop or you want to slow down, tell me please, okay?”

You mumble your confirmation, hands fiddling with her wet hair. She places gentle kisses down your body, starting under your jaw and trailing down towards your inner thigh.

Her attention is completely focused, eyes glazed over already. A whine is pulled from you the second her tongue is licking across your heart. She presses it harder onto your clit, morning when she feels you tug at her hair.

You have a hand in her hair, another pressing against your mouth. A hand on your hip holds you open, barely putting in any effort whenever your hips twitch or try and close around her head.

“You’re so pretty,” she mumbles into you.

She slides the first finger in, a shameful whine coming out from behind your hand. The water falls behind you two, the heat and pressure below pressure you to breathe deep.

When she feels you’re ready, she begins to fit another finger in. She doesn’t miss how you shiver when she angles her fingers.

“Like that, sweet thing?”

A string of yeses fill the room, your tone breathy and sweet. She’s driving them in harder, directing them right at the spot that has your legs quivering.

Her tongue presses against your clit, building pleasure between your legs. You whimper at the sudden bite to your inner thigh. It was then that she decided to slide a third finger.

“Wanda,” you breathe out, back arching to chase after what she had been building.

Her fingers twist, trusting against your upper wall just as she sucks on your thigh.

“Oh my—please.”

You’re tugging at her hair, gasps and incoherent mumbles tumbling out from your lips.

“You’re squeezing me so tight,” she sucks at your clit, grinning at how your body reacts, “gonna come?”

Too much time passes and she’s impatient. Wanda thrusts her fingers in harder, a complete contrast of how gentle her voice sounds.

“Love. Are you close?”

“Yes,” you whimper, “don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of doing so.“

With a final kiss to your clit you’re sent over the edge. You grip at the tile, nails digging into the grooves. Wanda removes her fingers instantly, almost frantic as she brings her mouth to your heat. She soaks up every shiver, tongue swiping until all she can taste is herself.

You mumble her name, “kiss me.”

She’s shooting up, meeting you halfway. A muffle moan sounding from her as soon as you do.

“Mm,” you smile into her lips, “you taste good.”

“It drives me crazy,” she admits and pulls you back into a passionate kiss. A hand comes and strokes at your back, calming you down. It was when you felt your mind begin to clear, the effects of the orgasm fading away when she had started biting around your neck.

“If you continue like that,” you begin, stopping to gasp when she actually bites on your shoulder.

“Or what,” she questions, her eyes look at to the shower head with a shit-eating smile. You follow where she looked and jerk her head back by her hair.

“Every minute I spend with you I swear you just want me to believe you’re a total goof.”

“Is pleasing my girlfriend so bad?

“That’s a shower head.”

“So? Give me a chance,” she gives the worst puppy dog eyes, and yet you still can’t turn her down.

Her hands pull it off of the holder, the smile never leaving her face. Your emotions were apparent on your face. She laughs and kisses you sweetly, “it won’t hurt if that’s what you’re expecting.”

“I don’t think that, I just think you’re crazy sometimes.”

She hums, ignoring you and opening your legs. The water pressure feels like you’re grinding down on a pillow.

“You make the cutest faces,” she murmurs quietly to herself. She tilts her wrist for it to angle just below your clit. The action has your nails tearing into her back.

“Feel good, hmm?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whine, head falling onto her shoulder, “keep it there, please, please.”

She shushes you, repeating how she’s going to take care of you. She changes the setting, eyes steady on you and each reaction she pulls from you.

“Gonna come already?”

“Keep it there,” you move your head to kiss her chin, “please Wanda.”

“I will,” she whispers, “I will.”

When she realizes you’re coming, she’s hanging the shower head back to not overstimulate you. You’re coming down your high, breathing deep into the space you’ve created between you and her.

“You’re so beautiful. I can’t help myself.”

You laugh breathlessly, head tilting back as she kissing around your chest and neck.

The sound filling her heart with joy. You stay cooped in each other’s hold, feeling comfortable not saying anything for a few minutes.

“Was it okay?”

“It was wonderful,” you kiss her nose, “thank you. I feel bad, you haven’t gotten off.”

“You don’t have to, watching you was enough.”

You push her back and stare at her, “did you really come from watching me?”

She pinches under your breasts, “no. I just got myself off when I was eating you out earlier. I wasn’t lying, seeing you come is enough.”

“Speaking of,” wanda grabs at your waist, “do you want to come again?”

You smack her hands away, a warning that if she doesn’t actually shower, you’ll shoo her off to another shower. She does so well for the first part, enjoying herself and being with you.

It was sweet how she checked in, hands gentle washing the soap into your hair. It was when she had to start washing your body that she became suspicious. What set you her was how she was taking too long to wash your breast.

She had stood behind you, hands running down the front of your body while she breathed deep into your ear about how she wanted to take you while someone was in a shower beside you. You realized then that your warning was fake. She too realized, another playful smile finding its way onto her face as she felt your body melt into hers again.

The water had become cold by the two of you came back to reality and finish “showering.”

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#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x fem!reader #dom wanda #wanda x you #top wanda #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #mommy wanda #hockey coach!wanda #competing series #marvel wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff #wanda maximommy #bottom reader #service dom!wanda

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wandasfifthwife · 3 days

Text

*ೃ༄ the difference between daddy!wanda & mommy!wanda

hockey coach/player! wanda x afab!reader ︎tw ͏ 𖧷 MDNI, top!wanda, bottom!reader, mentions or hints to sexual acts such as (fingering, oral (v & strap), grinding, tribbing, scissoring, strap in v), kinks such as degradation/praise, marking, exhibition ͏a/n ︎ 𖧷 inspired by this post. I WILL POST A FIC OF R CALLING W DADDY FOR THE FIRST TIME LIKE SOON!

ׂ╰┈➤ series m.list 🌷 ┈➤ wanda m.list 🌻

❀꫶̯͙ࣺ˖̑͡mommy!wanda 💐

* these are the moments when she’s giving, gentle—

* it’s when R wakes up late at night, pulling on her shirt and Wanda’s turning over, half-asleep to sedate R’s neediness

* these are when she’s at practice, a hand on R’s hip as she’s talking to the kid’s parents

* it’s how she’s checking in on you often, pressing a kiss to your cheek when she notices how you’re looking down

* this is when she’s expressing her love for you, whispering how beautiful you are—all of you, mind body and soul

* it’s how she kisses you sweetly, hand on your face

* this is love confessions throughout your intimate moments

* these are moments when you’re eating her out and she’s guiding you through it, telling you how good you are for her, how lucky she is to have you

* this is when she either knows what you want, or if not she’ll ask and do everything you ask and more

* this is where if you want to control the situation, she’ll sit back and let you ride her, she’ll let you finger her—and she’ll be so kind to you

* it’s when she coos when she notices tears, wiping them from your cheeks immediately

* these are moments when she’s building you up again, helping you if you’re ever feeling down/bad about yourself or your body

* It’s small makeouts on her couch, grinning when she feels you grind on her lap and whimper so sweetly into her mouth

* this is when you can feel it mentally, you feel loved and taken care of, your heart and body feeling more confident after

* it’s when she’s bringing you water/food after, talking with you, and setting a hot bath for you to relax in after an intimate moment

fics w/ mommy!wanda —> locker room | my hands are cold, warm them?

❀꫶̯͙ࣺ˖̑͡daddy!wanda 💐

* these are the moments when she’s calling the shots, demanding—

* it’s when W loses a game and takes her frustration out, roughly pulling R down on her strap

* it’s the way she slams opponents into the screened wall when she’s heard them talk about you like you’re single and open for taking

* it’s the marks she loves to leave on your skin, biting down to hear you cry out

* this is when she’s feeling cocky about how good she makes you feel, smiling at your blissful expression

* it’s when she’s calling you names, titles such as slut are used, meant to make you feel degraded

* these are moments when she can’t help herself, pushing you into some crammed space to make your eyes roll to the back of your head

* this is when she’s pushing her strap past your lips, laughing when you choke or have tears pooling in your eyes

* this is when she has a hand on your thigh, dangerously close to your cunt on purpose as she eyes down another who’s been looking at you for too long

* it’s when she’s pushing you over the edge to pull you right back in despite your little (untrue/false) statements for her to “stop”

* she doesn’t and won’t let you lead, she’s going to be pulling all the reigns

* this is when you can feel it after— legs shaky and a limp in your step

* it’s when she’s falling asleep on you after with a smile on her face, the both of you too tired to go anywhere after her drawn out ministrations on you

fics w/ daddy!wanda —> she tells me keep fucking cause she loves this shit | your jealousy is showing (on me)

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wandasfifthwife · 7 days

Text

she tells me keep fucking cause she loves this shit ✩‧₊˚

— hockey player!wanda x afab/fem!reader

wanda has an away game, meaning she has to leave you in the morning. your emotions to rise, hurt turning into anger and causing you to snap at her, resulting in an argument—but you can’t stay mad at her. before you can realize you’ve ended up under her, pleas for her to fuck you good before she leaves.

tw || SMUT MDNI, established relationship, angry-makeup-im going to miss you-sex, argument, angst w/ happy ending, hurt/comfort, top!wanda, bottom!reader, strap (r receiving), oral (r receiving), impact play (spanking), marking (neck), r is called little thing (by wanda), overstim if you squint, cum kink?

a/n || TEAM SHOWN IN PHOTOS HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH/ WANDA’S TEAM (I choose them bc they’re cool blue color). fic inspired by this prompt.

series m.list ✩ ══╡˚1.6k words˚╞══ ✩ wanda m.list

Professional athletes travel around for away games, you know this. Wanda’s mentioned her out-of-state games before to you, subconsciously reminding you of her possible leaves in the future. It was a possibility, but when it came you felt saddened by the news, especially when this trip was longer due to press and interviews.

“Hey,” she murmurs in a hushed tone, coming behind you from where you stood at the bathroom counter, “how’re you feeling?”

“Im fine.”

She eyes you wearily, the feeling making your skin crawl, “really, Wanda. It’s whatever.”

“I didn’t mean to tell you this so late. I only just remembered when I saw the information after my coach reminded us tonight—”

“Like I said, it’s whatever. Would’ve just been nice if you told me sooner.”

“I was planning to.”

“Well turns out you didn’t if you’re only telling me this the night before,” you say, heart aching as you realize she’ll be leaving tomorrow for her week and a half trip. You felt dramatic, you know you’ll see her again, but a week and half is long enough where you’ll miss her.

It’s long enough where her bed will begin to loose its heat, her side growing cold. It’s just long enough where she’ll be too busy to call you, get wrapped up with the scheduling they had for their team. You slam the drawer shut, the sudden spike in your energy levels making Wanda jump.

“Are you angry at me?”

You mock her tone, moving around her to grab the clothes you had thrown onto the floor before your shower.

“Talk to me. Why’re you angry?”

“Oh I don’t know. Maybe because my girlfriend is leaving for a week and a half? And oh, maybe because she thinks this isn’t important to tell me, let me know before hand?”

“I didn’t know it’d affect you this much.”

Her words snap a cord in you, your mind twisting her soft tone into one that’s scoffing at you.

“Are you just this forgetful or are you just ignorant? Because this seems to happen often where you seem to forget and then trying to apologize for it—like my birthday last week.”

“Hey,” she replies, eyebrows pinching in hurt, “that’s uncalled for, I thought we moved past that.”

“I thought we did too but here you are doing it again.”

She looks at you with disbelief on her face, “okay, woah—what’s going on?“

“You, Wanda! You’re the problem! I can’t keep dealing with your selfish thinking.”

“Look—I’m sorry for not telling you about this until now, I really am, but I’m not going to deal with this. You’re being rude. Maybe it is best I leave.”

No.

“Okay fine, you were going to anyways,” you exclaim, moving past her on your way out of her room, slamming her door behind you in the middle of her retaliation of yelling, ‘fine,’ back at you.

There was a space closet just beside her room, one you peered in to see if she had any extra blankets laying around. You found two, using them to make a make-shift bed on the couch seeing as you don’t know if Wanda would want you near her right now.

It pains you every time you remember the look on her face after you called her selfish, reminded her of last week’s grievance. She didn’t deserve any of that just because you were sad she had to leave.

There was an attempt made to sleep on the couch, eyes opening and shutting too often. Your ears were focusing on the soft sounds coming from her room, hearing her walk around or close a drawer. You were being selfish and yet you directed the word at her when she was only trying to console you. She’s the last person you would ever consider to be selfish. You squeeze your eyes shut, the movement forcing a tear down your face.

If you slept out here tonight she’d be gone early tomorrow morning. She’d leave thinking you thought she was selfish, that you were still upset she had forgotten your birthday. All were lies, tumbling out of you in the heat of the moment to deal with the hurt you felt knowing she was leaving out of no where—but it only succeeding in making it worse.

You shuffle out of the makeshift bed, feet tripping on the blankets as you push yourself back towards her room. She was sitting on her bed, scrolling on her phone when you walked in. It’s like she knew, hands reaching to cup your face when you rushed over to press a feverish kiss to her lips. She sets her phone onto the desk, bringing that hand to twist you under her so she can kiss you into the mattress.

Her hands run down your sides, caressing your hips and grabbing at the skin there to pull you further down under her. Your arms lock themselves around her neck, gasping when she bites down harshly on your lower lip.

“Please,” you beg, turning your face to deepen a kiss when you notice she’s moving back to kiss you again. She nips at your neck, turning the skin there into a darker color. You tilt your head back, giving her more space to roam, to press another mark onto your skin. There’s a thigh between yours, moving your cunt along the expanse of it.

“Fuck,” she whispers, reaching to pull your clothing off after.

“Please—fuck me,” you beg again, pulling at her shirt. She’s shrugging it off, pulling it over her head to toss it beside her. Her chest presses into yours as she spreads your right leg up, opening you up for her. She’s looking into your eyes, seeking your confirmation before continuing.

She’s reaching, grabbing the harness to fasten it to her. The tip’s already at your entrance, pushing through your tight heat. Your body freezes, bottom lip dropping open as you feel every inch slide in, already beginning to move. You cry out when she thrusts back, hips moving at almost a punishing pace.

You’re pushed into the sheets, hands intertwined with hers by your head. She bites down on your shoulder, fucking into you harder after hearing you whimper. You’ve got your thighs pushed wide, welcoming her size as best as you can, but she still splits you open and it makes your eyes roll back.

“You’re infuriating,” she says, thumb brushing your previous tear stains away. You barely hear her over your incoherent mumbling, a string of pleas and whines escaping you to echo throughout her room.

“No,” you cry, reaching for her when she slides out. She’s shushing you, looking down at where you were connected to gage where to press in again. She gets distracted by the wetness coating your thighs, the dark spot forming onto her mattress from underneath where you lay. Her fingers spread your folds open, moaning as she licks through them, stopping directly onto your clit.

You’re weaving your hands into her hair, pulling her hair so tight. Your thighs shake beside her head, hips squirming as she sucks against your clit. She’s been keeping her eyes on you this whole time, angled up at you to see how beautifully you arch your back. With her tongue pressing into you and a finger circling your clit—you loose it, moaning as you come onto her tongue.

She grips your waist, flipping you so you’re breathing heavily into the mattress. The way you’re pushing your ass back into her gives her the best sight of the arousal running down your legs. You wiggle your hips, gasping when she brings her hand down to spank your ass.

“Yes!—ah, yes,” you whine, moving back to push more of her length into you. She grips your waist, hand brushing the skin to pull you until she’s bottomed out again. Her current angle is pressing right into the spot that makes you see white, makes you loose control over yourself seeing how you’ve begun to writhe from pleasure.

“Wanda-ah, uh—oh!”

You pull at her sheets, whine half muffled from how your face was being pushed into them. She squeezes your hip, “gonna miss this when I’m gone, aren’t you? Little thing can’t pleasure yourself the way I do.”

“There,” you choke on a moan, “oh!—right there!”

She knows where you’re talking about, having full knowledge and confidence about your body. Her thrusts are short, quick—pushing rapidly against that spot in ways that builds the heat between your thighs again. The second her finger is reaching over to rub at your clit you’ve let yourself go, silently screaming into the pillows.

Wanda pushes a finger past your hole even as she’s still sheathed inside, bringing it to her lips after. She hums around her fingers, eyes in a lustful gaze as she looks down at your panting body, connected to her still. She jerks her hips into yours playfully, laugh full of ego when you mewl after her ministration.

“I’m selfish? Look at you right now,” she emphasizes her words with another jerk of her hips, “came twice and you’re wanting more.”

You twist your face, ruffling the pillow to look back at her, shivering when you find her eyes. She leans over your body, arms flexing where they fall by your head. You lean back into her body, leaking all over her strap.

“I’m not stopping until you’re begging me to. Your body wont forget this all the days I’m gone,” she husks into your ear, “that sound good to you?”

You’re only able to nod, lips opening and closing with nothing but whines coming out. You’ve been reduced to nothing and she knows it.

“You always come crawling back to me.”

You want to deny it but you can’t, and she knows it, a smile coming upon her face when you nod.

series m.list ✩ ══╡˚1.6k words˚╞══ ✩ wanda m.list

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wandasfifthwife · 5 days

Text

make you mine ✩‧₊˚

— hockey!wanda x afab!reader

after finding out that your girlfriend has been fucking you with the strap she’s used on her one night stands the past, you make her buy a new one. when she comes home with the new strap you can’t help but to claim it—and her—as yours

tw: SMUT MDNI, established relationship, top!wanda, bottom!reader, Wanda’s strap is referred to as her dick/cock, strap (r receiving), strength/muscles kink, r’s needy, bondage (w), jealous!reader, wanda used to be a player, packing (w), R sounds a bit possessive, overstim if you squint, NOT PROOFREAD

a/n: here’s that strap fic 🤭

series m.list ✩ ══╡˚1.3k words˚╞══ ✩ wanda m.list

Jealousy’s a funny thing. It’s been settled within you since Wanda came forth with her past, confessing that she used to take girl after girl between her sheets. It was only last night that you met one of them, a curse of living in a smaller town.

A stranger had wondered up while you two were at dinner, asking how Wanda’s been doing. You had stared while Wanda was doing her best to shoo her off, trying not to be too rude. It’s weird to think that this stranger was under Wanda at some point, maybe Wanda even liked her too.

You never found out with how fast Wanda would shut the conversation down, stating it’s apart of the past and knowing what happened would only hurt you. You know she was right, but curiosity eats away at you. How many girls did she bring to bed, and did she ask any of them back, or were any of them good in bed? She kept silent.

The only thing she answered was about whether or not the strap she uses to fuck you was the same one she used with them. You found out that it was, and your reaction was expected. The question came at an inconvenient time, but what you two were doing triggered the thought. You had mumbled it against her lips, hips grinding down onto her thigh. She looked almost nervous when you froze, pulling away from her.

“Until you get a new once, you’re not allowed to touch me,” you said, climbing off her bed. Her reaction was imminent, already setting off the next day to buy one, sending you a text you when she had. Your arms were wrapped around her neck when she came back, pulling her body on yours until you two fell back into the wall.

“Mm, love wait—“

You couldn’t. Your lips had moved back on hers, arms locked around her in hopes to keep her there. She couldn’t either, finding herself engaging in the kiss until you were breathless. Keeping you in that state was the only way she was able to get her words across.

She asked you to jump, hands moving to hold under your legs when you do, wrapping your legs around her waist. She throws you down into the bed, smiling at the gasp leaving you. Your hands grab at hers when you notice how they’ve begun to undo her pants, holding them together.

“I want to,” you ask.

“Want to what?”

“Ride.”

With her help she finds herself on her back, gaze lovingly taking in the sight of you on her. Her legs were propped up, giving you someplace to lean back on. You were a sight to see, hips grinding down onto her clothed length, shivering when it rubbed against your clit.

“It’s big,” you whisper, whining right after you press it into your entrance as far as it’ll go. Wanda leans a bit to mouth at your neck, knowing where to kiss to get a reaction out of you.

“Take these off,” she says into your neck, fingers slipping under your pants to slide them off. You help, lifting your legs to help her slide them off. They come right back to rest on your waist, hovering over your underwear but you hold them still, “no.”

She raises an eyebrow, “no?

You reach into her desk drawer, holding back a smile at the amusement on her face when you pull out a line of rope.

“How long has that been in there?”

“I’m surprised you haven’t found it.”

“So, a long time?”

You shush her, fingers sliding up her arms, guiding them together above her head. Once her shirts been removed, settled somewhere in her room, you’ve begun to tie it like you’ve been practicing. The material is thin, but a bit scratchy against her skin.

“Why’d you choose a light material? I can just break through these.”

She finds your eyes, growing needy herself seeing how her question has your eyes turning glossy, “yeah, that’s the point.”

She’s left bare under you, watching you slide her length between your folds, effectively wetting it. It was fun to watch how her arms jerked, itching to hold you like she usually does. She does good, arms kept above her despite everything in her wanting to break the rope.

“You got this for me?”

“All for you, just you.”

Her words set off a switch in you. Wanda’s hands have found themselves reaching behind her, fingers holding tight against the headboard as she watching you press each inch of her into you. It’s bigger than her other one, pushing your walls out wider than what you’ve grown used to, but it’s perfect.

The wetness grows between your thighs helping to ease the tension and allow you to guide her size through into you easier. You take it all greedily, clenching tight around her once you’ve settled down completely.

“Has a girl done this with you before,” you mutter, breathing heavier at the sight of how Wanda looks under you.

“No, no I’ve never—no.”

She almost moans at the whimper you let out as you move your hips with her still inside to spell out your name—both of your minds feeling floaty after your ministrations.

“Then this dick’s all mine.”

Wanda whines, head tilting back and hitting the headboard, a plea spilling from her lips as you begin to set a slow pace. The room is silent except for your gasps and the sounds of her strap thrusting into your wet cunt with the rhythm you’ve set.

You’ve got a hand sprawled on her stomach, using that and the other you have on her knee to move your body on top of hers. The position at which you’re slamming your hips down adds friction onto Wanda’s, building pleasure in her own body every time you snap your hips down.

“Fuck,” you cry, “you-oh!”

She’s never seen you like this, pushing your hips back on hers with more speed each time, whining nonsense in her ear except for one word—mine.

“‘m close,” you say, tone whiney and airy, “I’m close—ah! So close.”

The second she sees your back check arch and mouth drop open in a silent cry, she’s snapping the band to flip you on your back.

She’s pushing into you faster than the pace you had started, enjoying every sound that escapes with each thrust.

“Ah! Ah!—please, don’t stop,” you grip her back, wincing a bit when she circles your clit.

“Say it again.”

“This cock is mine—mn!”

She hums, “and?”

“You’re mine.”

She angles her hips, smiling when she finds your spot immediately. You curse, coming again around her strap, drenching it and the sheets below you.

“That was hot,” Wanda says from on top, body laid on yours. You welcome it, hugging her close and enjoying the added weight.

“Can we take a bath tonight? I don’t feel like standing.”

“Don’t feel like it, or you can’t?”

You ignore it, “so bath?”

“Sure, only if you answer my question.”

“No.”

She laughs at how frustrated your face looks, the pout drawing no sympathy from her as she lifts you off the bed with no difficulty. The bath water is run warm, you can feel it relax your muscles as you lower yourself into the water. Her skin’s smooth, and nice to lean back against, cheek falling onto her shoulder.

“You haven’t answered it still.”

“Because you already know the answer.”

“Do I?”

You have your eyes shut but if you could you’d roll your eyes at her, “okay, I can’t. Ask one more question and you won’t be able to touch me for a week.”

“I probably can’t anyways because I don’t want to make your limp any worse.”

“Hate you.”

“Hm, but I love you,” she says, pressing a kiss to your forehead, smile growing when you turn your face to kiss her properly.

“Love you too,” you say, feeling special knowing no one before you was ever able to do so.

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wandasfifthwife · 1 month

Text

(2) cheeks turning red ✩‧₊˚ competing series

hockey coach!wanda x fem!ex figure skater reader

tw: mentions of alcohol (neither r or wanda consume it), two brief mentions of toxic parents (r’s mom went to jail), wanda & r flirting lmao

a/n: not proofread, this is fresh outta the oven babes. Idk how I feel about this bc I feel I’m not good with writing fluff like this LMAO

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It was a call from your brother. On the other end of the phone, he was begging you to come over and entertain them at dinner.

“It’s good to see you,” your brother had said earnestly when you had walked up. He wrapped you in a hug, one you sunk into.

“Tyler is at a friend’s place. It’s good for him to get out, he’s been struggling with friends.”

“He’s been doing fine at practice?”

He shuts the door behind you, “I mean at school, he’s been complaining that they’re immature.”

His wife calls from further in the house, appearing from a corner to come and greet you. She’s always been welcoming, but the relationship between you still feels fresh. The table was already set, the dishes laid out on the table.

“How’s Tyler been at practice other than the friends he’s been making?”

“Oh he’s picking it up well,” you slide the chair closest to the window out to sit, “cocky as ever, but he’s doing well.”

“Good. What do you think of the coach?”

An uncomfortable look is shared between him and his wife, it makes you feel small. The look they shared felt usually like they knew something you didn’t, or that they had to walk on eggshells around you.

“She’s great,” you defuse the silence, “We don’t have to talk about any of that, I’m moving on.”

“Sweet, we just care to check in,” she finally steps into the conversation. You could tell your brother wanted to hash it out yet again, saying it’s because he cares but you’ve said the conversations make it worse. When your mind wants to forget about it, the constant back-track doesn’t help.

“Tyler’s coach and I are talking.”

The sentence had him stuttering, shock written on his face, “when? And how?”

His wife has a similar look on her face, but the small smile on her face eases the pressure in your chest.

“The situation’s a bit different from how you two met. A man hit on me, remember what I talked about last week? She scared him off, we introduced ourselves, and started saying hi whenever we saw each other.”

He points a finger at you, “that’s different. Do you like her?”

“She slipped her number in my coat pocket, I’d say we’re both interested.”

“It probably took you a day to realize it was there.”

You attempt to hide your smile but it’s futile, and the two laughs at the sight. He sighs and leans back in his seat, no longer hunching over the table, “I also wanted to ask how your job’s been going? You still with that company?”

“I’m staying with them unless they refuse to give me a raise, the amount they’re giving is barely enough to cover rent.”

He hums, “if you need anything, we’re here.”

You smile as a thank you and divert the conversation away from you by asking about their lives. They’re always eager to, their body language becoming more open and relaxed once they begin to. It could be a result of overthinking, but at times you feel most conversations surrounding you are negative. The one you just had about your nephew’s coach was the first time you collectively connected positively.

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

Within a second of closing the door to your apartment, your phone lit up the dark room. It was hurting your eyes, but you had never really cared to check who the recipient was until this moment. It wasn’t formatted properly, the text sent in a rush. The text read, “call me when you can,” just with random spacing and two misspelled words.

You debated waiting in hopes to seem hard to get, but you couldn’t wait any longer without hearing her voice. So you pressed on her contact, pressing your phone to your ear and sliding your shoes off in the foyer.

“Is everything alright,” you began, a small amount of concern bleeding into how you spoke.

“It can be,” she says, the pause between her words almost suffocating, “you deserve a nice dinner, and I will take you to one if you so wish to. But I have a formal event later tonight and need a plus one, I-“

“I’ll go as your plus one.”

“Oh wonderful. Thank you, thank you. I’ll come to your place at 9.”

She ends the call right after and you’re thankful she did. You can feel your heart fall out from your chest with the pitiful ache forming. If it were to be nerves or excitement, neither you nor your mind fully understands the difference.

With the lights now turned on it causes you to squint due to the sudden onset of light. You stumble to find your bedroom to open your window and let fresh air in. The projected event later that night turned your stomach into knots and mind into a blank slate of irrational anxiety. It was sudden and unexpected, but it was welcomed. What wasn’t welcomed was the following emotions, like anxiety.

The sun had settled under the surface, turning your room orange. With the sun lowering it set your alarm off. The tv across from you shut off and you slid off your bed.

Each minute passed while you got ready, and so did an alarm. Rather it was better to have three annoying alarms remind you of how much time you had than to be rushing out late. You had to remind yourself of that when it went off while you were in the shower, scaring you.

The parking lot was empty save for four cars in their assigned spots. Wanda had called earlier with questions on where you lived and if she had to do anything to get through the complex’s gate. Five minutes later here she was driving towards you.

A shaking hand reached towards the car door, opening it. She continued to watch you as you shut the door, you knew based off of feeling her eyes on you. It made your mind blank.

“I want to thank you again,” she admits, looking to you occasionally as she drives towards her friend’s estate. “It was last minute. I forgot about it until I saw the reminder on my phone.”

You smile at her, “you’re fine. What’s the event for?”

“My friend from college is getting married, this is some sort of together party. It doesn’t make sense and that’s just because they’re wealthy.“

“Who’s the wealthy one?”

“In a way both of their families are, but the bride’s family has a stable job set out for her.”

“How’d you meet?”

She stops at a red light, the color highlighting a side of her face when she turns towards you.

“She was in a class of mine. Connected over a terrible professor. I’m still surprised he still teaches there when all he does is read off of a slide show.”

You roll your eyes dramatically, “figures.”

When she parks, it’s behind a car brand you know is high on the market. It’s fun to dress nice, but it’s another thing when it feels like you’re playing dress up.

Wanda comes to your door, opening it for you and smiling when you fall forward into her. Your foot had fell between the crack of grass and concrete, twisting it and causing you to lean further into her chest.

“I don’t know anyone here expect for my friend, so you have no reason to fear me walking away. I’m in the same boat as you,” she whispers while shutting the car door behind you. A hand stays on your back as you two walk towards the lit up building.

The only awkward part of the night was when she greeted her friend, causing you to stand beside her as she did so. You pay it no mind though, appreciating the way she introduced you into the conversation. You give an occasional response, smiling politely to pass the time until they bid their goodbyes.

“I feel miserable,” she begins, walking you further into the house, “I dragged you into this.”

“You didn’t drag me into anything. I choose to come.”

She looks relieved, her expression now at ease. Her fingers grasp a glass near her, bringing it toward you for you to take.

“I would like to know you more,” she says while taking one for herself, “did you do another sport besides ice skating?”

“I tried soccer, hated it.”

She leans into the counter, facing sideways as compared to you. Her tone easy when she speaks, “what happened?”

“I didn’t like the competitive nature.”

“Did you competitive ice skating? What’s different?”

“You’re actively going against another team. I enjoy being competitive, I don’t like working with a team against another team.”

She hums, shaking her head in disbelief, “I would be crazy to believe that. I need to play with a team.”

You mock her hum, “of course you would.”

A faux offended expression comes on her face, “what’s that supposed to mean? Thought you said I’m a great coach.”

“You are, you just fit the criteria to enjoy a sport where you ram into others and shove a small puck around.”

“Is that why you said I’m a great coach?”

“You won’t let that go, huh?”

She scoots closer, “not until you tell me why.”

You roll your eyes a second time, laughing and pushing her back. She shrugs, “when a pretty woman compliments your teaching style, it’s important to know why so I can continue.”

You look at her incredulously. Unconsciously all nerves you had before beginning to fade away as the night continues. She’s easy to talk to and tease, a contrast from you’re used to.

“You’re genuine.”

“In what, I need more. In how I shove your nephew around? In what?”

“You’re an absolute dork. I mean in how you treat the boys, you care about them. Like you cultivate relationships with them. Even mix of stern and supportive.”

“Some coach expert you are, who’re you comparing me to.”

You have a choice to opt out, but she has an air of freedom. A feeling that you want to fall into more, so you open up that space.

“My mom.”

“Oh,” she gets closer, making your heart race, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, she’s in jail now. Long gone.”

“Shit wow, okay,” Wanda laughs, an endearing grin on her face, “you’re full of history.”

A couple of drinks and long conversations later, you begin to pull away from the party. The atmosphere was calm on the drive home. With the gentle hum of the AC and Wanda’s presence, it lured you to lean fully into the car door beside you.

“If you’d like to sleep, go ahead. It’s pretty late.”

You glance to the clock, finding the numbers 2:00 glaring back at you. A sigh comes from you, “no.”

“Okay,” she mumbles, her husky voice cracking at your resolve. You watch her side profile, a hand under your head.

“You have a slight accent,” you begin and she cuts you off, apologizing for whatever reason.

“What? I was going to say it’s attractive.”

She huffs, looking a bit shocked, “thank you. It might be because English isn’t my first language.”

“What is it,” you ask tiredly, resisting how your eyes are practicing closing.

“It’s Sokovian. And doll, sleep. I promise I don’t mind.”

You didn’t have the energy to respond, the last coming from you being a muffled him before you drifted off. Twenty or thirty minute could’ve passed, but you woke when you felt the car turn at the strange loop getting off the highway. A slight headache begin to appear as you slowly woke up.

“I was about wake you,” she laughs softly, “you seemed to know we’re almost back.”

You groan with a hand in your head, “I regret sleeping, my head hurts.”

“Poor baby, do you have medicine?”

You nod at her question, reaching below to grab at your stuff that had fallen by your feet. The complex’s lights come into view and you’re almost thankful to lay down in your actual bed. What a gift it is to be able to do so.

“Thank you,” you start, “I had a wonderful time. I’m so sorry for just knocking out there at the end.“

“No worries,” she parks the car out front and you can feel the nerves from before spark.

“I would like to see you again,” you say quietly, looking into her eyes, “if that’s okay.”

“Love to. I can get you after practice Tuesday.”

The shyness comes back, everything within you burning at the idea of seeing her again. Your lungs heave in air looking at her, and she knows with the way she begins to smirk weird.

“You’re a goof,” you say finally, moving to climb out of the car. She laughs and waves you off.

Once finally in bed, you weren’t able to sleep with the way you kept replaying the way she was looking at you. It was dangerous, each one pulling you further into her.

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@dorabledewdroop @aru-son @thelittleliars

@sokovianbaby @natsbiggestfan1

@r0manxff @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

@emiliaisdead @esposadejoyhuerta

@shinysuitcloud @xxsekhmet

@casquinhaa @scarlettbitchx

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x fem!reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #hockey coach!wanda #competing series

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wandasfifthwife · 2 months

Text

nsfw alphabet ✩‧₊˚ competing series

hockey player/coach!wanda x fem!reader

tw || SMUT MDNI, mentions of kinks (strength, marking, etc), dom/sub dynamics, discussion of positions

ׂ╰┈➤ series m.list ✩‧🏒₊˚

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

- she’s checking in on you before she has any care to check on herself

- she’ll do anything, her priority is for you to feel secure/comfortable/loved

- after she feels you’re settled (if it’s not a quickie lmao) then she’ll want to relax with you. go to sleep? Sure. watch a show? Sure.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

- on her body it would be her arms/back/legs. she’s sporty and loves to work out, these areas are her favorite

- on you? she loves your thighs for SO many reasons.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

- after she eats you out she’ll be down there until your glistening with her spit

- loves to kiss you after, bonus points if you moan into it too

- Same for her, if you eat her out and then kiss her, she’ll loose her mind

- if you take her strap and you’ve become incredible wet, soaking it?

- She’d literally moan

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

- Has a cum kink if that’s not known after B

- her dirtiest secret? she wants you to ride her abs

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

- she’s had a few hook ups, but they never went any further than a one night stand

- so she’s pretty experienced

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

- missionary

- reverse cowgirl

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

- she’s intimate, but if you get nervous OR either of you do something silly (like bump noses or hit your arm on something) she’s not a stickler, she’ll laugh and joke about it

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

- she’s trimmed but not completely shaven

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

- okay while she is romantic/intimate, she’s a bit wild

- (your first time in the series is in a locker room shower)

- for special dates she can be more romantic if need be, but she finds the situation romantic, doesn’t care if the environment is

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

- Has a high libido

- (its cannon that she’s masturbated even after you two did it for the first time earlier that day)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

- strength/size kink

- exhibition kink

- cum kink

- spit kink

- impact play

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

- she’ll do it ANYWHERE

- as long as you won’t actually get caught, she’s down

- (her favorite location was when you had gotten turned on during one date at a professional hockey game and she took you in the bathroom while someone else was in there)

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

- you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

- she’s not interested in anything you aren’t interested in

- if it’s not one of the kinks listened, she’s not interested

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

- a service dom

- she’ll top like 60-70% of the time (unless you don’t want to top, she’s perfectly fine with topping 100%)

- she’s absolutely not opposed to you topping (she’ll still guide you through it though)

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

- she’s fast/rough

- the second hands are on her/you, she’s pulling your clothes off, so desperate to get you to moan/cum

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

- LOVES them

- She doesn’t care what yall do, but if you’re as down to do one as she is, it might happen too often

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

- touched on this before, but if there’s one kink she’ll be okay with experimenting with it’s temp play

- but she’s not interested in stretching beyond either of your boundaries

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

- she’s a rabbit.

- obviously there’s times when she’s not feeling it, but *overall* it’s like she’s in heat almost

- usually she lasts 2-3 rounds (there’s been one night she went 4)

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

- a strap and that’s all

- she personally doesn’t like penetration, prefers fingers/oral

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

- she’s not a tease.

- it teases her to tease, she wants to get right into it and immediately make your brain melt and eyes blurry

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

- she’s moaning, but she’s not very loud

- it’s bc she wants to hear any sounds you make

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

- a WILD headcanons is that she’s insanely good with giving head

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

- high.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

- she has a good amount of stamina (sports, working out)

- so while she does value sleep (the type to say lights out at 9PM), she doesn’t need to after. Especially not if you’re wanting to stay up.

#hockey coach!wanda #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x fem!reader #dom wanda #top wanda #wanda x you #wanda headcannons #wanda maximoff x you #mommy wanda #wanda x reader smut

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wandasfifthwife · 1 month

Text

(4) bruised ego ✩‧₊˚ competing series

hockey coach!wanda x fem!ex ice skater reader

tw: lots of discussion on dealing with an verbally/physically abusive mother, hurt/comfort, misunderstanding trope, slight argument, Wanda is kind of petty (but she doesn’t fully understand), angst with a happy ending, love confessions, super fluffy ending, there’s kissing at the end

a/n: we already know the drill, it’s not proofread babes. this hurt my soul to write, but the ending is so worth it.

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We have about 6,000 thoughts daily, and a majority of them are the same idea just repeated. Studies show that another majority of those thoughts are negative.

There were days when it felt like the stats were wrong because some days you feel like every thought is negative. The reason for that being your mother. She wasn’t with you physically, but her words still stuck.

If you were in bed too long, you could hear her telling you to get up. If you ate something with too many carbs, you could hear her telling you to put it away. If you spoke back to someone, you could hear her screaming. Some days you think you can still feel the burn of her hand on your cheek.

The triggers for these days are unknown. You do your best to block it out and seem positive as to not bother anyone, but you believe what she’s done is so ingrained in you it’s like your own thoughts.

Your girlfriend has been wonderful. A listener, provider, friend. She’s the first thing that’s felt like home in a long time. So it’s no surprise that you felt like you would scare her away. They made themselves known one weekend when wanda was out of town visiting family. Being back in your apartment with barely any stimulation was like leaving an open seat for the devil to arrive.

It started out simple. Just about yourself and how down you can be. It was somewhat positive as you had tried and successfully held off a few of them. You had to remind yourself of how grateful you should be, of how you’ve got a brother who cares, and a lovely girlfriend.

It started twisting out of control when it went past a day. One popping out of nowhere saying how down you are. It then did the worst by bringing Wanda into it. Why would she want to stay with someone who requires so much work? The emotional load on you felt treacherous; One you cannot handle most days, so how could Wanda?

It’s been two days since she’s been gone and since your triggered spiral. Wanda had called you when you were eating dinner. You hesitated, hand twitching from where it lay on your lap. You could text her to call you back later. It might be better to not drag her into it so soon. You can deal with your own thoughts yourself.

The two days turned into four, and the one missed call turned into six.

Your mind felt heavy. No matter where you went you could feel tears building in your eyes. Why weren’t you good enough for your mother. Why have you failed at a social life. Why did Wanda care for someone like you when she could have another who has their life together.

It was disgusting to talk about yourself like that, but how are you supposed to know after the childhood you had? Any compliment given to you felt like a non-stick band-aid. It’s purpose to cover a wound, but it falls off. It all felt like lies.

After five days your phone went silent. It still lit up, a text from Wanda asking if you were okay. To not worry her, you told her you were fine, just tired.

On Wanda’s end she was confused, concerned, and hurt. Her calls went unanswered and her tests went unread unless they were serious. Her last choice was to give you space and let you come to her.

It was mistake on both ends. A tiny crack changing into a chasm. Silence became common, but extremely uncomfortable between the two of you. No texts, no calls, radio silence.

When Wanda had come back, she had a sliver of hope you’d show up to practice and explain all of what was going on. When you realized practice was tomorrow, you had hope that Wanda would be ecstatic to see you and explain how she does need you.

Neither happened.

You were full of anxiety walking into the building, ears ringing. Tyler had been looking over at you often, but he’s been with you longer and understands. Wanda didn’t understand, watching from afar as you don’t think to come find her like before. It was like two separate people, you before she left and when she came back. She called everyone over and began practice as usual.

You felt an ache start in your chest, one pure as opposed to the others. It begged for you to seek comfort, for her to tell you it was all alright. You were fearful though, scared if you came to her she would react like your mother. The second practice was over you were almost rushing out, heart beating like it was going to fall out. Wanda had skated to the exit, previous emotions highlighted after what just happened.

“You need to talk to her, I haven’t seen you like this in—“

“I really don’t want to talk about this Tyler. I don’t want to hear another thing that I’m messing up alright?”

He nodded and swallows, looking out the window. Another mistake your mother would have represented you for. What kind of aunt talks to their nephew like that?

You drop him off and sit alone in your car for a minute. Wanda’s house was closer. And oh how every part of you aches for her to hold you near. So you give in and type her address in on your phone.

Your chest feels like it’s squeezing as you walk up the stairs to her apartment. With her door in front of you, you knock. Chest filled with hope that she talk with you, let alone be home.

“Oh,” she opens the door and crosses her arms, “why’re you here?“

“Wanted to see you.”

“And why now instead of three days ago? What’s up with this new avoidant attitude?”

Your voice gets caught in your voice, “nothing. Can I just come in, please?”

“It’s not nothing,” she huffs, “why is it so difficult for you to tell me? Busy at work?”

“I didn’t want to bother you.”

“I would have understood if you would have communicated that? Leaving someone in the darkShe steps back so she can place her hand on the door. You feel your eyes water as she begins to close the door.

“I need some time,” is the last thing she says before the door is shut in your face.

Your tears feel like they’re drying up as hurt and shock fills up every bone in your body. It was the last thing you had hoped to happen. You regretted driving here, now you have to deal with blurry highways. You wipe at your face with your sleeve and climb back into your car. You really surprise yourself at how you keep your composure until you’re back in your own apartment complex.

A cry comes from deep within you, one different from the previous days. This one hurt.

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

Your days felt empty. It was hard most days to get out of bed and concentrate. You were thankful work wasn’t miserable, it ran its usual course for a typical 9-5 job.

Your brother tried his best, but gave you space unless you intentionally seemed him out. He was deeply saddened when you had came to him the night after you had fought with Wanda. His house was opened to you that night. It usually is, but it was especially after that day.

You continued to take Tyler to practice. Each trip there felt like you were chipping away at your heart. Wanda wouldn’t look at you and it felt worse than her glaring at you. Now you regret not answering her first call and being truthful.

Your thoughts shifted. Once being self destructive and now they’re empty. You would avoid looking in Wanda’s direction and now she’s what your eyes are looking for when you walk in the arena.

You were sat on the bleachers, watching Tyler play and occasionally looking over to Wanda. You tried to have hope that she would look over to you, acknowledge that you were there. It was another day of mourning what would never happen.

Your chest heaves and you’re quick to clamber down the steps. A few steps is all it took to carry yourself outside. Nothing on your mind but to leave before your tears would be a show for everyone around you. It was moments like these that made you wonder why anyone would want to seek out drama.

You gasp once you’re outside, trying to breathe in the fresh air but it feels like you can’t fully take a breath. The door behind you shuts, catching you off guard. You twist around and falter when you see Wanda.

“Wanda,” you cry.

Her eyes are sad as she watches you crumble, hands already reaching for you. You sink into her, hands moving around her to pull at the back of her long sleeve. Listening to your cries break her, tears forming in her own eyes as she stands there with you. Once the tears begin to quit, your face grows warm at noticing a family at the playground nearby.

“I’m sorry,” you say, voice cracking.

“No reason to be. You’re not required to wait until the perfect moment to cry, sometimes it just happens,” she runs a hand over your face, wiping her fingers over your puffy, tear-stained eyes.

“Tyler told me to come find you.”

“Oh, practice—“ you started to tear up again and she’s quick to be stern with you.

“Do not feel bad or apologize for anything else. I want you to stop being so hard on yourself. Listen to me. Practice ended. Tyler’s dad is coming to pick him up. Im going to pack up and then we’re going to leave, okay? I want you to quiet that mind, if you need me I’ll be right beside you, alright?”

You nod. Her hand finds yours, pulling you through the arena as she finishes up. She grabs any remaining hockey sticks, setting them back in the closet. You follow her around aimlessly, occasionally helping her.

“I parked out back this time,” she grabs her bag and keys off the stand, eyes looking to you after. She asks how you’re feeling, and this time you’re honey. You shrug.

“Let’s go home.”

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

You’re not even a step into her apartment before she’s pulling you into a hug. A shaky sigh escaping her like she’s trying not to cry.

Your head hurts miserably from crying everyday, but hearing her hold it back causes another wave. It hurts when they form, but they still make an appearance, showing that your heart still has space to be wounded.

“While I do wish you’d have told me earlier that you’ve been feeling this way, I am not upset or angry at you for it,” she sets her forehead on yours.

“I am so sorry,” she cups your cheek as her own tears fall, “I said things I should have never said. And I pushed you away when I should have held you closer.”

“I don’t care,” you tuck your face under hers, “can we talk about this mess later.”

You feel her head move in a nod. Her hands pull you towards her room, where you both fall onto it.

She smiles, but it doesn’t feel real. You turn around so you can slide back into her. Wanda wraps her arms around you, pulling you close to her and sets her face on your shoulder.

“I’ve missed you.”

“Understatement,” you say and she laughs softly.

She presses a kiss to your cheek, “I want to stay here like this forever.”

“I love you.”

The three words take her back. Before you know it you’ve started another cry session. She flips you onto your back, smiling at the sounds you make when she kisses your face.

“Kiss me properly,” you demand, hands firmly holding her face in place. Wanda closes the gap, pulling your face closer and deepening it.

“I love you too,” she whispers against your lips, pressing a kiss between each word. Her arms wrap around you again, holding you tight. Being around her like this quiets all thoughts.

Resolving and moving past the situation will take open communication, but you’re both willing to take another chance. It was after you talked that you both realized the importance of being open with your partner as to not cause a misunderstanding. You both made an effort to not do anything before again. It took a little to work past the after-conflict. After a week, it was in the past. Every moment spent together was like you were mending what happened, and working towards the next day. Confessions and spending time together became frequent.

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