This Shit Is So Cute

GAMER!KATE IS MY WHOLE PERSONALITY NOW

i’ll be your 1-up girl

ship: kate bishop/fem!reader

summary/request: kate is really close to hitting 1000 subscribers on twitch, and you’re somehow the star of the show. (au where twitch’s terms of service just lets u straight up have sex on camera)

word count: 865

warnings: smut (18+), pillow humping, edging, exhibitionism, sex acts on camera, mentions of other things (bondage, anal, pet play kind of not really?), stupid nerd jokes

masterlist | ao3 link

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stranded | joel miller x f!reader

pairing: joel miller x afab!fem!reader

summary: you get stranded in the middle of a blizzard. joel comes to your rescue. you share a bed for warmth. things escalate from there...

warnings/tags: 18+ content, MDNI!, smutttttt yurrrr (vaginal fingering, unprotected piv sex, dubious consent, lil bit of somnophilia, joel is packinggg), no outbreak!joel, modern au, implied age gap, soft!joel, pet names (peach, baby, darlin', sweet girl, sweetheart), lil bit of joel being jelly, cuddling to keep the cold at bay, fluff, NO USE OF Y/N

word count: 7.6k (idk what the fuck happened)

“Fuck!” 

You press down hard on the gas pedal, grimacing when your engine revs but the car doesn’t move an inch.

Your tires skid uselessly over the snow and your headlights reflect into a white wall of nothing—the snowfall so thick you can’t see anything in front of or around you, as if you’re trapped in a snow globe. The road is practically gone from existence. 

Your wipers try their best. 

The only thing you can hear is the wind whistling and the staticky sound of Carrie Underwood’s ‘Jesus Take the Wheel’ going in and out on the radio.

Yeah, you wish he would right about now. 

“Fuuuck,” you whine again, eyes stinging with unshed tears. You hit your wheel in frustration, dropping your forehead onto the horn. It honks pityingly. 

Of course, the one time you were actually going out, you had forgotten to check the weather. 

You’re probably going to die out here on this back road through the woods. There’s no one around, not that you can tell, and you’re low on gas. You were going to fill up once you got out of the woods and back into civilization, but the blizzard had other plans.

Your stomach rumbles, crying out for the dinner you had skipped in hopes of having a hearty, post-sex meal with the hook-up you are—or were—on the way to see. Though, that’s certainly not happening, and the snacks you usually had stuffed into the glovebox are gone, your sister having stolen them last week after you dropped her off at school.

(Darn that growing goober!) 

You don’t have anything that might prove useful in this situation besides the long, slim heels on your pumps (which could be used in defense), and the thin peacoat wrapped around your shoulders. You check your phone to see if you can call emergency services, but of course, it has zero bars. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” you whimper, pressing the heel of your palm to your watering eyes. 

“It’s gonna be fine,” you say to yourself, picking your head up and rubbing away the tears in your eyes. You take deep breaths and put the car into park. “You’ll be fine.”

The sudden sound of a knock on your window startles you so bad you yelp, jumping in place as ice cold terror rises up your spine. 

You can hardly see who had knocked, only their gray silhouette in the white blizzard.

The stranger knocks again. 

“You alright in there?” The shadow asks, a hint of a Texan accent curling their vowels. Shit. It’s a man. 

You slowly grab your shoe from your foot, holding it so the heel faces the window, and snow blows into your face as you carefully roll it down an inch or two for precaution, because who knows if it’s a fucking cannibal-axe-murderer who preys on unsuspecting women stranded in the snow. Maybe he does this every year—maybe this is his prime harvesting place and time. 

Your eyes are wide as you peer through the opening warily, heel at the ready. 

He’s close enough now that you can make out a prominent scowl, hard brown eyes, salt and pepper hair…

…wait a minute. You’d recognize that glower anywhere.

“Joel?”

Your lungs suddenly remember how to work again, and you inhale on a shaky breath. The hand holding your shoe drops to your thigh in relief.

His brown eyes narrow. “Peach…? The hell are you doin’ out here?” He asks, and Jesus you forgot about that stupid nickname he gave you. It sends butterflies loose in your stomach. “It’s a goddamn blizzard.” 

You scowl in exasperation, though, at his obvious observation. “Yeah, I think I know that, Joel. What are you doing here?”

“I heard a honk, figured someone needed help.” He looks you up and down, his gaze lingering on the circles of mascara around your eyes. “Guess I’m right.”

You straighten in your seat, the surge of gratitude at his presence is overshadowed by the need to look self sufficient and capable, because you are. You’ve been paying your rent all on your own, buying your own groceries, making your own meals. You’re a grown ass woman! So…

“Actually, I don’t need your help, Joel. I meant to go into this snowbank,” you lie.

“Oh really?” He asks, dubious, immediately picking up on it. 

“Yes, and I'm going to get out of it. Just watch!" 

You’re making a fool of yourself, but at this point, you really don’t want to be rescued by him if only because of the bruise to your ego and definitely not because of other extenuating circumstances. You feel a boost of confidence when Joel actually steps back from the car when you start it up again, like he really believes you, but then when you shift the gear into reverse and try to make it out of the snow bank, nothing happens.

Joel steps up again, leans an arm on the frame of your car, and taps your window once more. “C’mon. Let’s go.” 

God, this is so embarrassing!

“Fine.” You roll up the window and turn off the car. Joel tugs the car door open as far as it can go and offers a gloved hand to help you out. You wobble a bit when you step out in your heels, grateful that Joel is there to steady you. Though, the feeling sours a bit when he huffs in disbelief at your shoes. 

You send him a glare, “I had plans for tonight, okay?”

“In the middle of a blizzard?” He deadpans.

“It wasn’t that bad when I first started driving.”

“Riiiight,” he drawls, “Well, I’m sorry to say, peach, but you ain’t driving in this mess anymore. You can stay with me tonight.” He says, closing the car door behind you. 

Stay? With him? 

“Joel, I couldn’t bother you with—“

“I wouldn’t offer if it was a bother.”

Joel’s as stubborn as a bull, more so than Ellie. And she is stubborn. You don’t argue, because it’s fruitless to argue with a brick wall like him. And, faced with freezing to death out here or staying in a well-insulated building, choosing the latter is obviously the right thing to do.

“Okay,” you relent and point to your trunk. “I have a bag back there.”

He raises a brow. “Heels and a bag…What kind of plans were we talkin’ about here?”

A hook up, Joel, you mentally drawl. Because…that’s exactly why you were out. 

Like hell you’ll tell Joel that, though, he’d disapprove. He’s always been the protective type. You’ve known him since your junior year in college, after your families practically merged. But you’ve never seen Joel as another dad. He’s always been…something else to you.

“A trip to Nunya.” You supply instead of the truth, crossing your arms over your chest to try and conserve some heat. 

“Nunya?” Joel’s brows furrow. 

“Yeah. Nunya business, Joel.” You give him a sardonic smile. 

He shakes his head and sends you a look you’re quite familiar with, the one that makes you feel inches smaller. And ten degrees hotter. 

Joel sighs in exasperation and wordlessly wrenches the trunk open. He slings your bag over his shoulder as if it weighs nothing.

(It weighs a lot. You’d know, you shoved five different erotica books in there, just in case your date failed to make you orgasm.)

(Though thinking about Joel probably would’ve been enough.) 

You lock your vehicle with a bemused glance. “What are we gonna do about my car?” 

“I’ll tow it out tomorrow,” Joel says. “Roads are a fuckin’ mess right now.”

You trudge behind Joel to his quaint cottage sleeping cozily between tall pine trees and chubby evergreens. The porch light is on, and the windows glow a comforting orange. Puffs of smoke drift up from the chimney. It looks warm and inviting, like straight out of a Christmas movie. 

You’re impressed at how close you managed to strand yourself to his house. Maybe Jesus really did take the wheel. 

Joel kicks the snow off his boots on his front porch, then opens the door, gesturing for you to enter first. 

When you breach the doorway with Joel at your heels, warmth settles over your cold-bitten cheeks along with an alluring aroma of meat and tomato and spices that hits you in a wave. You’ve never seen Joel cook anything other than Chef Boyardee Beefaroni, or burgers on Tommy’s rusting grill before. Could…someone else be here? 

“Joel,” you whisper, your hand landing on his arm. He sets your bag down in the foyer with a grunt and shrugs out of his coat. 

“What?”

You point to the kitchen. “Is someone here? Am I intruding?”

Joel glances at the kitchen then back at you with a confused expression that evens out into a self-satisfied smirk when he realizes what you’re asking.

“What, you think I’ve got a date over?” 

Embarrassment creeps through you. “Who else could be cooking!”

He looks offended, though there’s a twitch to his lip, as if he’s trying not to laugh. “I’m perfectly capable.”

“Joel,” you say, unimpressed.

“I'm alone, peach,” he reassures, hanging his coat up. “That’s my cookin’ you’re smellin’.”

Your eyes widen, genuine surprise written on your features, relief lingering behind it as you take your own coat off. “Is it edible though?” 

“Guess you’ll have to find out.”

Joel starts toward the kitchen and you trail behind him. As you follow, you take in his aggressively Texan decor and furniture. Paintings of cowboys and horses and mountains are hung artfully on cozy, beige walls. The Eagles’ discography drifts merrily in the air from an old record player. There’s a guitar stationed in practically every corner. It’s all so very Joel, though the random space ornamentals and butterfly drawings sprinkled about are so very Ellie and Sarah. It makes you smile. 

“Where are the girls?” You ask, because usually those little stinkers would be stationed at the dining room table, bickering over the answer to a ridiculously difficult math problem.

“At Dina’s,” he answers, taking off his gloves. “They wanted to play in the snow.”

Oh. So you’re here alone with him. Anxiety prickles at the edges of your mind, sinking in your stomach.

“I guess I was the only one that didn’t know about the blizzard, then.” 

“You must be livin’ under a rock to not know about it.”

You grumble in protest, but your grievances disintegrate on your tongue as you enter the kitchen and near the simmering pot. You breathe in the aroma, the smell so powerful it's almost like you’re actually tasting it. 

You look over your shoulder at him. “Is this chili?”

He nods. “Want some?”

“Hell yes.”

He comes up beside you to open a cabinet. “Go ‘head make yourself comfortable on the couch. I’ll bring it out to you.” Your mouth dries at the sliver of skin that peeks out beneath his flannel as he reaches up.

You force yourself to turn around. “Wow. Such a gentleman, didn’t realize you were capable,” you say, your saccharine sweet tone doing well to mask how flustered you feel. You can breathe easier the second you exit the kitchen and enter the living room. 

His voice follows you. “A simple ‘thank you’ ‘stead'a this attitude would do you some good, y'know?"

"I know," you sing-song, grinning as you settle yourself down onto his couch, grabbing a blanket from a basket on the way. A fire crackles in the hearth and you study the flames with fascination as warmth spreads across your skin. You tug the blanket around you, pulling it up to your chin. 

Joel emerges a minute later and your gaze darts from the fire to the bowl he holds out to you. “Here.”

“Thank you, Joel,” you say emphatically, accepting the bowl and cradling it in your hands. 

He smiles, “There we go. Guess you do have some manners.”

You give him a half-bow. Joel just smiles in that familiar way, like you’re just so ridiculous he can’t believe it. It makes your stomach curl giddily. 

Having rolled up the sleeves of his flannel to his elbows, Joel’s forearms are on display, muscles flexing as he tosses another log into the hearth, and you drop your gaze to your chili, as to not get caught staring. He sits down in the armchair adjacent to you with his own bowl.

You blow on the steaming chili before taking a bite, an involuntary moan releasing from you the moment it hits your tongue—paprika, peppers, tomato, cumin. It warms your stomach pleasantly. Who knew Joel could cook so well?

“This is so good,” you mumble around your bite. 

He swallows his own chili down, pupils large as he watches you. “Edible enough for ya?”

You nod enthusiastically, “I’m sorry I ever doubted you.”

“Mmhmm,” he hums, unconvinced, but he’s smiling at you again, and you can’t help but return it. 

Comfortable silence lapses between the both of you as you eat your meals. Joel finishes first, of course, setting his bowl on the coffee table and leaning into his chair with a satisfied groan. He throws an arm over the back, spreading his legs. You watch him while he watches the fire, heat licking through you.

Eventually, after you slow down, you speak again.

“Thank you, Joel, seriously, for letting me stay.”

His eyes find yours and he nods. “‘Course, peach. Wouldn’t’ve let you freeze out there.” 

You nod and glance around, taking in his cabin. A large, stone fireplace is set in the wall, a tree trunk coffee table stationed in the center of the living room, some handmade wood carvings of horses and other animals scattered about. There’s a drawing of himself sitting on the mantel, “To: Joel, From: Ellie” signed at the bottom. Your heart swells. 

“It’s been awhile since I’ve been here,” you remark.

“I know,” Joel says. “You should come around more often. The girls miss you.”

Your smile turns shy and you feel a spike of bravery. “What about you? Do you miss me?” 

He takes a moment to answer, a veiny hand coming up to rub at his beard as he leans on the arm of the chair. Onyx eyes drag down your figure. “‘Course I do, darlin’” 

Heat pools hot and thick between your thighs at that look, and you’re about to press him about how much he really misses you when a buzzing in your pocket captures your attention. Your phone. Guess you have some bars now. 

marcus: where r u?

Oh right, the hookup!

you: blizzard blocked the roads. won’t make it tonight.

marcus: ok. 

You scoff at the lack of depth in his response. Not even a “stay safe out there”? Jesus. You settle into the couch with a frustrated sigh, head thumping against the cushions, eyes falling shut as exhaustion creeps into you. 

Boys always thinking with their dicks. Why do you even bother?

“What’s that about?” Joel asks. You peek an eye open at him. Firelight dances across his tan skin. He gestures to your phone. “That gotta do with the real reason for your trip tonight?” 

You rub your temple, “Yeah.”

He hums. "...Listen, I know it's none of my business but—“ 

"It was a hookup, Joel," you interrupt, already knowing where he was going with that. He tends to do that, beat around the bush so much until you’re desperate to just say it. More desperate than he was to know it. You’d rather just skip that whole process. 

"Oh,” his brows furrow.

"Yeah," you repeat dumbly, fiddling with the blanket.

"There, uh, ain't no shame in that, darlin'."

You quirk a skeptical brow, "I know."

"Alright," he mumbles, avoiding eye contact with you. Awkwardness settles between you.

"Things are just a bit dry," you supply, though you have no idea why you're still talking, or why you described yourself and the state of your love-life like that because Joel doesn't need to know that. Nobody needs to know that

But it captures his attention, because he's looking at you again, though this time annoyance is written on his features, along with something else you can’t name, his eyes practically black. Damnit, you knew he’d disapprove, even if he claims there’s no shame in it.

“And you went to some random boy for that?"

You straighten on the couch. "Who else am I supposed to go to, Joel? You?” Sarcasm drips from your words. 

What the hell is he implying?

His gaze jumps to the fire, the muscles in his jaw clenching, his fingers flexing on the arm of his chair. "Never mind I said anythin'."

Your arms cross defensively over your chest. "I don't need your judgment, Joel.”

"I ain't judgin'."

"Sure sounds like it."

He stands abruptly, running a hand through his peppered locks. "I'm not, I just—listen, it's gettin' late. You should sleep. I didn’t have time to get the girls’ room ready, do you want my bed?”

You shake your head, "Couch is perfectly fine, Joel. Thanks."

“You sure?”

“Yes, Joel. I’m a grown woman who can handle her decisions.” 

"I know that.” Frustration laces his words. He sighs, hand coming up to rest on his belt. “Just... let me know if you need anythin'."

“You got it.”

He turns the living room light off on the way to his bedroom down the hall. You don’t watch him leave. 

Once he's gone, you change into your pajamas and settle yourself on the couch beneath a blanket or two. The crackling of the fire and the howling wind outside lulls you to sleep faster than you expect. 

-----

“Fuck.”

The aggressive shivers that wrack your body are what wake you up in the middle of the night. 

Your blanket is wrapped tightly around you, but it’s a thin, furry thing. Nothing like the down comforter you have at home. The fire has also gone out in the hearth, low flames flickering in the ash.

You pull the blanket up to your chin, curling in on yourself as the cold permeates your skin. 

Aside from the chattering of your teeth and the squall outside, it’s eerily silent in the house. You realize, now, that the whooshes from the heating system you had grown accustomed to before are gone

Shit.

You reach for the lamp on the side table, pulling down on the chain. It doesn’t turn on.

“Shit.” 

You sit up, blanket wrapped around your waist. The power is out. The snow storm must’ve knocked out a power line. It’s too cold to stay out here with only your thin blanket and the clothes on your back. And Joel had said…

Let me know if you need anythin’.

You really don’t want to bother him, but the goose flesh rippling across your skin and the pathetic way your lips are quivering, along with the shudders that wrack your body as it attempts to maintain homeostasis are not something you can just sleep through.

You tightly wrap your blanket around your shoulders and tiptoe down the hall. You can see a warm light from Joel’s bedroom, the flicker of a flame on the cream walls.

You slowly push the door open but hesitate at the sight of Joel buried comfortably beneath his comforter. You don’t want to wake him… but his room is awfully toasty from the fire crackling away in his own hearth. And his bed looks absolutely heavenly. 

You steel yourself and pad to the side he sleeps on. 

“Joel?” You whisper. He doesn’t respond.

You lean over to gently push his shoulder. “Joel.”

“Mm—“ His brows furrow, and he scrunches further into the blankets, reminiscent of a cat curling its paws over its head when woken up.

You push his shoulder again, a bit harder this time. “Joel. Wake up.”

He swats at the air, as if your hand is a fly buzzing around his ear. “‘M awake,” he mumbles against the pillow. 

“Joel—the power went out. I’m freezing.”

He’s silent for a moment, eyes still shut. He’s no doubt rolling the words around in his head, trying to make sense of them through a sleepy haze.  

Then, when he does, he wordlessly scoots back and reaches for the comforter. He lifts it, offering the space next to him to you.

“C’mere.” 

You splutter, taken off guard by the invitation. “What? Joel—“

“‘M not askin’, peach. C’mere.” The last word leaves his lips like a command, and you straighten reflexively, apprehension holding your limbs hostage as want curls dangerously low in your abdomen at his tone of voice. That should be enough warning to not climb into bed with him.

You debate telling him to get his ass up and give you another blanket along with a couple more logs in the hearth so you can avoid any kind of proximity between you (lest you feel those capital-f Feelings), but you can practically feel the heat radiating from the bed and his body beckoning you in. 

Oh fuck it.

You let loose a shaky breath and hesitantly slip beneath the covers, facing away from him. You stay glued to the edge of the bed, careful not to let any part of you touch him. Your legs curl into your chest for extra measure. Immediately, it’s so much better. So warm. So comfortable.

And it smells like Joel.

You inhale the earthy and spicy scent of him that lingers on the linen as your head sinks into the soft pillow, but your inhale chokes off as Joel’s strong arm snakes around your waist beneath the comforter, his large hand burning like a brand when it settles hot over your stomach.

He pulls you into him, the sheets swishing as he tucks you into his body. Your back slots against his warm, broad naked chest. His bare legs intertwine with yours, his pelvis almost flush against your ass, only covered by a thin pair of briefs. 

Holy shit. 

You can feel everything. 

“Joel?” You question, voice quivering at the sudden closeness. “What are you doing?”

“Keepin’ you warm,” he mumbles against the nape of your neck. 

You do feel warmer, though it might not be entirely because he’s holding you, but rather because of how he’s holding you. He’s curled around you, like a koala around a tree, thighs bracketing yours. 

You can feel his beard scraping at the nape of your neck, breaths puffing against your feverish skin. 

His thumb is rubbing softly along the pudge of your tummy, palm branding your skin, his fingers dipping innocently beneath the hem of your shorts. 

You can barely breathe, or even think, heartbeat stuttering as arousal pools liquid hot and heavy between your legs. Every unknowing twitch from Joel’s fingers makes it worse. Every touch of his calloused fingertips against your skin is pure agony. Every brush of your ass against his pelvis has you throbbing. You stare wide-eyed into the darkness, gaze roaming the pitch black, as if something out there could make you forget about the ever-growing desire you feel for Joel. 

You can’t sleep like this.

It seems like Joel can though, appearing to already be deep in slumber. He hasn’t moved in a few minutes, his exhales even and slow against you. 

You try to ignore the wetness between your legs, ignore the instinctual urge to roll your hips back against him. You should just go to sleep. But this ache you feel, pounding and deep and relentless…You have to do something about it, even with Joel holding you close.

He won’t mind…right?

But how are you supposed to touch yourself with Joel’s hand in the way? 

You could just move it. That’s the right thing to do, but it feels too good, so hot and heavy on you that you just don’t want to, and as a result, an idea so absolutely fucked worms its way into your mind, lust and desperation destroying any last semblance of rational thought. You could…

No. No. You can’t do that. He’s a human fucking being, not a hand shaped vibrator. 

But… you really want to, and he’s asleep so…he won’t even know…right?

You make up your mind and slowly curl your fingers around Joel’s deadweight palm, biting your lip in concentration and shame as you carefully urge his hand further into your shorts. After each nudge of his palm, you wait to see if Joel gives you any sign of him being awake. But he’s dead asleep. After a moment, you keep going. 

This is so fucked, but you can’t bring yourself to care when you finally feel his thick fingers brush over your clothed folds.

“Shit,” you whisper, breathlessly, holding back a whimper. You manipulate his hand so that his palm is resting large and warm over your aching clit, while his index and middle finger are placed heavily above your heat. 

And then, you really say fuck you to your morals. 

You give an experimental thrust of your hips into his palm, shuddering at the contact against your clit. Then you wait to see if Joel reacts, your head tilting a bit to look over your shoulder. But Joel hasn’t moved, hasn’t said a word. Good.

Confident he won’t wake, you rock your hips again and again, holding onto his hand with your own, pressing it down with each thrust of your hips to get that sweet contact. The heel of his palm bumps your aching clit with each thrust, and you bite back moans and whimpers well enough, but you can’t hide the deepening of your breaths as you climb closer and closer to your climax.

Everything else fades away as you just focus on that one goal. On crawling over the edge. You hardly feel the growing smirk pressed to the back of your neck, or the way Joel’s cock is now hard against your ass as you grind against his palm.

“F-fuck,” you huff, eyes tightly shut as you ground yourself in his presence behind you, the beat of his heart thudding against your spine, the rise and fall of his chest, the light, unconscious brush of his lips on your neck. Closure is on the horizon as you imagine him lifting up on his arm and leaning over to actually get you off, his teeth biting down on your shoulder as he thrusts his fingers into your aching cunt. 

“Joel—“ you quietly moan. 

The moment his name slips from your lips, his hand suddenly pulls back, and you let out a frustrated groan (he can’t do that!), which quickly turns into a squeak of mortification (oh yes, he absolutely can!).

Because Joel is awake. 

He. Is. Awake.

And he knows what you were doing, his chest rumbling against your spine as he—is he fucking laughing at you?

“Needy girl, aren’t you, peach?”

Mortification ignites in your cheeks, nausea pooling in your stomach. “Joel, oh my god, I’m so sorry—“

His hand gravitates to your thigh, curling around it. He pulls it up, inserting his knee in between your legs and he griiiinds it into your clothed cunt. Your desperate apology is cut off by a reflexive wanton moan, your back arching as pleasure reverberates inside you.

“‘S okay, baby, I understand. So fuckin’ desperate you had to use me while I was sleepin’, huh? Didn’t get what you wanted earlier so now you’re searchin’ for somethin’ else, hm?”

His large hand finds your waist again, sliding down your stomach to inch beneath both your shorts and your panties now. You gasp as his fingertips find your clit easily.

“I’m just a ‘lil offended I wasn’t your first choice,” he chides, fingers slipping through your soaking folds. “But I like this much better than you findin’ some boy to get you off. You need’a be fucked by a man, darlin’. Ain’t that right?” 

His words send heat straight to your core, thighs clenching around his knee as he ruts it against you while simultaneously stimulating your clit with his fingers.

“Yes, Joel,” you moan. “Need you.” 

His teeth scrape against your throat when he growls, “Goddamn right you do.”

You can’t believe this is happening.

Joel slides his hand further into your panties, his middle finger curling in to sink into your soaked cunt. You choke on a gasp. 

“Who’s the guy?” He asks, randomly, while his finger rocks into you.

You can’t think as Joel inserts his ring finger alongside the other, stretching you so deliciously. “W-what?”

“The boy you were gonna see tonight. Who is he?” 

Who was it? Mark? Matt? And why does he care? You don’t know, you don’t care, only thoughts of Joel Joel Joel consume your waking being. 

“I—I don’t know, Joel. Please, oh my god.” 

He hums pityingly. “Poor thing can't even remember his name.” His other hand comes up to slide through your hair, gripping the locks at the nape of your neck. He tugs, and you melt. “I’ll make sure you don’t forget mine.” 

He doesn’t need to worry about that.

Joel moves his thumb to circle your clit as he thrusts his thick, long fingers up and into you, curling them to hit that spot that has your heartbeat dropping between your thighs, desperate and loud and begging for release. 

“Hhhoh— Joel!” 

“Tha’s right, baby. So goddamn wet. You’ve been dealin’ with this for awhile now, huh?”

You nod into the pillow on a broken moan as his fingers withdraw and sink into you at a steady pace, his thumb circling and circling and circling.

“Words, baby.”

You cry out, hands gripping the pillow. “Yes, yes. Joel. Been wanting this f’so long.”

“Should’a come to me first. Would’a helped you out a long time ago,” he drawls.

Yes you absolutely should have, based on how quickly you’re approaching your orgasm.

Your cries are so loud, but you don’t care, focusing only on your pleasure and the feel of Joel’s mouth on your throat. 

You’re finally getting what you want. And fuck, is it amazing.

Your eyes roll back as it all builds up inside you, Joel’s hand unrelenting as he fucks you closer and closer to the edge.

You’re scorching, everything hot and intense, your stomach tightening, your legs stretching out as the pleasure builds and builds.

Fuck, you’re gonna cum—

It rips through you violently, eyes prickling with tears, your thighs clenching as your walls bare down repeatedly around Joel’s fingers, making him groan. 

“Good girl,” Joel murmurs, hand eventually inching out of you and your shorts to squeeze your thigh appreciatively as aftershocks run through you, thighs quaking and clit throbbing. “That’s what you needed, huh? S’it feel good, cummin’ all over my fingers?”

His fucking voice!

“Mhmm,” you hum in agreement, sinking into the sheets, eyes drooping shut as pleasure lulls you to sleep. 

He tsks, “Wake up, darlin’ I ain’t done with you yet.”

His beard scrapes against your neck as he moves to your ear.

“It’s my turn to use you.”

Your eyes shoot open. Fuck. 

Joel pulls your panties down your legs as far as he can, and you squirm to wriggle them off of you.

He pulls away for a moment, but when he’s back, the bare, hot, thick length of him is pressed between your ass cheeks, and a full body shudder runs through you.

Holy shit, he’s big.

He grips your thigh again, but this time he throws it over his own. And then you feel it, the slick head of his cock as he guides it through your folds.

Oh fuck.

“You okay, peach?” He asks, laying a gentle kiss on your shoulder. Now you have tears in your eyes for an entirely different reason. His hand slides across your waist and up beneath the hem of your shirt, palming your breast. Your nipples tighten. 

Your mouth feels dry and you swallow down a lump of lava. “Y-yes, Joel.”

“Good. Wanna give you all of me, how’s that sound, darlin’?”

You will take whatever, anything you can get from Joel.

“Good, Joel. Yes, please, oh my god.”  

“There are those manners.”

A desperate whine slips from your lips as he directs the head of his cock into you, slowly and carefully, his hand running up and down your thigh in comforting strokes. God, he’s stretching you so much, hot and thick and pulsing inside you. It’s almost painful, but it’s a welcome pain.

“Jesus, Joel,” you moan when he stops to let you breathe, “You’re so big.”

“I ain’t even halfway in yet, darlin’.”

“W-what?” How is that even possible? 

“You can take it.” He says, sliding in some more and fuck you don’t have much of a choice. but you can, and you will because he feels too fucking good, and you’re ready for him to make you feel it into next week.

“Is…is it all the way in yet?” You ask, thoroughly stretched and filled. 

“Almost, sweet girl,” he breathes. “Goddamn, you’re tight.”

That makes you clench down even more, and he releases a pained groan behind you. “Relax, darlin’, c’mon.”

You do your best and let yourself sink into the bed, taking deep breaths and concentrating on the crackling of the fire.

And then, he thrusts fully into you, filling you up completely, and your mind is right back to him, a soft cry slipping from your lips into the pillow.

 “There we go, tha’s it. Good job. Taking me so well,” he croons, stroking your side.

“F-fuck me, Joel, please move.”

He squeezes your ass in his large palm in retaliation to your command. “You use me, I use you, remember?”

But he listens anyway, likely desperate to move himself, because then he’s gripping your hip with a large hand and pulling back just to sheath himself fully into you once more, his cock head bumping against your cervix, and holy fucking shit.

“Joel!” You cry, and he leans over to kiss you, teeth biting at your plump lower lip as he thrusts into you again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

He rolls into you at a steady, bruising pace, and you’re practically boneless as you just take it. Cries and whimpers and moans spilling out of you like a gas leak as he mouths down your throat, sucking and biting and oh my god this is way better than just getting yourself off on his hand. 

Then Joel shifts, pushing at your side to press your stomach into the mattress. You whine as he pulls out of you to situate himself behind you. He grabs your hips with both hands and pulls them up and backwards, easing himself back into you until your ass meets his skin, then he rolls his hips, driving his cock deep from a brand new angle.

All you can do is sob into the pillow. 

He’s so fucking big, so fucking deep you can’t think of anything else besides him and his wonderful cock, or the filthy things he’s whispering into your shoulder blades.

His large hand plants itself on your spine, and your hands scramble for purchase on a pillow.

“Sweet girl, taking me so fuckin’ well,” he purrs. “You were desperate for this cock, huh? God, I wish you could see yourself. Split open on me like this. Your little boy toy wouldn’t be able to fuck you like this, ain’t that right?"

You shake your head. God, why did you even make that dick appointment in the first place?

You hadn’t even realized what being fucked by a “real man” meant until now.

Joel knows how to fucking deliver, you guess that’s why he’s so successful in his contracting business. He’s delivering you straight to that blessed release. 

You clench around the girth of him, the filthy sounds of your arousal echoing in his room along with the cracks and snaps from the fire burning steadily in the hearth.

If you couldn’t sleep before, you definitely will be able to after this because you’re mindless as he fucks you into oblivion.

“Joel, fuck—mmph—!” 

“Yeah, that’s right. Can’t say anythin’ but my name.”

His breathing has become more labored, desperate grunts escaping his lips as his cock twitches inside of you. He’s getting close, deep and gravely moans falling out of him as his thrusts become harder and more sporadic.

His hand sneaks around your front, spanning your entire stomach as he slides down to your soaking folds, his middle and ring finger finding that sensitive bundle of nerves and giving them a gentle tap before circling, using that same method from before that had you squirming.

You writhe on his length, legs falling out beneath you as your orgasm swells within you. 

“Please Joel,” you whimper into the pillow. 

“I’ve got you,” he promises. 

It’s there, filling your body, building and cresting and searing white-hot through your limbs. 

And then he thrusts a certain way, hitting that spot within you, and his fingers are circling and—

Yeah.

You fall boneless to the mattress as you come apart, your arousal coating Joel’s cock as he continues to fuck you through your release, stroking your spine. Pleasure floods through your body as the tension releases, and tears freely fall as you cry into the pillow.

Because goddamn it!

How can something feel so good? 

And then Joel’s pulling out of you and letting loose a long, satisfied moan as he comes all over your back, hot stripes painting you. 

He collapses next to you, groaning something about his back.

And you can’t help but laugh, delirious and soft, and Joel’s laughing too, brown eyes sparkling. His calloused hand comes up, runs his thumb along your jaw, and he’s smiling at you, soft and unlike anything you’ve ever seen before.

“You alright, peach?”

“Ohhh yeah,” you giggle, sighing with contentment.

You’re gonna be feeling this for days, just like you wanted.

Joel’s lips brush against your forehead gently, and you’re too tired to acknowledge it, slumber pulling you under far too quickly. You think you can feel the gentle swipe of a wet washcloth on your back before you pass out.

-----

“Fuck…”

The bed is empty when you wake, and a spike of anxiety shoots through you as you sit up. A fire still crackles in the hearth, a fresh log dropped in the ash. On the night stand is a note, beneath it, one of Joel’s t-shirts, your jeans, and a pair of your underwear. 

Mortification climbs through you as you read:

Peach,

My bathroom’s on the left if you’d like to shower. I hope you don’t mind, I went through your bag to get you some panties  underwear. Lot of books in there. You sure like to read.

Oh god, he found your erotica stack. The covers are not misleading, either, he definitely knows what kind of books they are. You force yourself to keep reading through the humiliation.

I’m out picking up Sarah and Ellie, I’ll be home soon. There’s pancakes on the counter. We’ll tow your car when I get back.

Also–about last night…we don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to. But, I want you to know that if you ever need something like that again, I’m here. And for anything else. I’m here. Always. 

See you soon. 

Warmth fills your body and you reread those last sentences over and over. 

Always. Does he really mean that? 

You check the alarm clock on his nightstand–it’s eleven fucking a.m. Holy shit, you haven’t slept that late in a long time. 

When you stand, an ache radiates through you, and memories of last night flit in your mind and along with them, a fresh new wave of arousal. You scramble for the shower.

You emerge fresh and clean twenty minutes later, smelling like Joel, having only his body wash and shampoo to use. Each inhale is practically torture, and the ache between your legs is just another reminder. Seeing yourself in his shirt makes it worse. You try and push it away.

You descend the steps, halting when you hear the sound of Ellie’s voice from the kitchen.

“And I was like, pew pew! And I got both of them out!”

Sarah’s scoff of disbelief follows. “Nuh-uh! You didn’t even hit me!”

You creep down the steps, smiling a bit at Ellie’s outcry of “Yes I fucking did!”, and then you hear it–Joel’s low laugh, the Texan drawl.

“You kiddos are gonna drive me crazy. Just eat your damn pancakes.”

“Why’d you make these in the first place? You don’t even like pancakes,” Sarah teases. 

“Uh…”

You decide you should probably help him out. “Hey girls.”

Three heads snap in your direction. The eyes of one skirting down your body, a blush creeping across his cheeks. The other two brighten in shock. 

“What are you doing here!” Ellie gasps. 

“We haven’t seen you in forever!” Sarah adds.

You enter the kitchen and come up behind them to pull them in for a hug, your arms hooking around their necks. You smush their cheeks against yours. Ellie grumbles, Sarah laughs.

“I know! I’ve missed you guys so much. I’m just super busy with being an adult and all that shit,” you say, letting them go so they can breathe. You round the island, grabbing a plate and stacking two pancakes on it.

“Well, stop being busy. We miss you,” Ellie says.

“If I could, I would.”

“Why are you wearing Dad’s shirt?” Sarah asks, eyes narrowing, a mischievous smile pulling at her lips.

“I–um–” the question catches you off guard, and you scramble for an excuse, eyes flicking to Joel desperately. He clears his throat and crosses his arms over his broad chest, now covered in yet another, dark flannel. How many does he own?

“Snowstorm stranded her here last night, and she didn’t have any clean clothes,” Joel says, definitively.

It’s not a lie at all, and yet, it feels like one.

Sarah and Ellie exchange a look that says, yeah fucking right. You shovel pancake into your mouth to try and cool down the blush in your cheeks. 

“Speakin’ of,” he continues, “I’ve got the tow dolly all hooked up so when you’re done, we can tow your car out.”

“Great. Thank you, Joel.”

His brown eyes flick between yours, his hand coming up to rest large and warm on your shoulder. “‘Course, sweetheart.” 

You finish your pancakes without any more embarrassing questions from the girls, thank God, and then you’re out in the snow wearing a pair of Joel’s boots stuffed with socks (they’re too big, but they’re better than heels) and bundled up in one of his coats, watching Joel tow your tiny car out of the snowbank.

It’s just as cold as yesterday, though the dreary sky has cleared into a baby blue, the sun bright and high above the clouds. The roads are clearer, the snow plows having come by not too long ago. 

You grimace as you hear your car groan and creak as Joel pulls it out of the snow, big puffs of it falling off the roof in clumps. Eventually, it’s on solid ground once more, and he tows it back toward his cabin. 

Back in the driveway, Joel hops out of his truck and double checks your car. He pats the roof of it when he deems it accetable. “All good to go, sweetheart.”

You sigh in relief, “Thank you so much Joel, seriously.”

He nods, though he looks…nervous for some reason. “‘Course, darlin’. Glad I could help.”

You don’t really want to leave, but you’ve bothered him long enough, so you stroll to the driver's side and go to open it, but suddenly Joel’s hand comes down to keep it closed. You look up at him confused. 

His expression is hard, serious as he looks down at you. “Do you regret last night?”

Well. You were not expecting that. You thought that, maybe, it would just remain undiscussed. A blip. Something you both shared, but never spoke of again. You know your answer, though.

 “No. I don’t.”

“Good,” he says, eyes dark, “me either.”

He opens the door for you, pauses for a second then shuts it, voice desperate. “I just need to say this, before you go.”

You nod, encouraging him to go on.

He takes a deep breath, rakes a hand through his graying locks. Pinches the bridge of his nose, and shuts his eyes tight. When he opens them again, there's a hard determination in them. Your pulse quickens, your legs turn to jelly.

“I like you, peach,” he says. “I understand if you don’t want to be with me because of the whole single father thing. And, also because I’m me. But I just thought I’d tell you how I felt, because,” he huffs out a laugh, shakes his head, “I’m thinkin’ you might like me, too.”

Your hands are shaking, and not because of the cold. Maybe you should buy a lottery ticket with how lucky you've been these past fifteen hours.

“I’ve liked you since the moment I met you, Joel," you confess. 

“Oh,” he says, breathless, and a smile pulls at his lips.

“Yeah,” you breathe, your own grin forming to match his. 

The breeze shakes the evergreens, drifting flakes of snow onto Joel’s graying hair. His nose is reddened by the biting cold, but his eyes are warm as he smiles down at you. 

“Not gonna lie to you sweetheart, I’m kind of glad you got stranded here.”

"Yeah, me too," you laugh, and then you pull him down to you, pressing your lips against his, smiling into the kiss.

This kiss is the exact opposite of the one he gave you last night. It’s careful, sweet, tentative. He reveres your mouth, rather than ravishes it. You’re both bundled in multiple layers, standing in the freezing cold rather than lying naked in a warm bed. 

And yet, it’s just as perfect, if not more.

Eventually Joel pulls back, hands heavy on your waist. He’s still grinning. His hands frame your face, his thumb running softly along your cheekbone. 

“Peach,” he says. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

"please tell me you're not a minor"💀💀

I’m Always Around

Megan Fox x Reader

Word Count: 1762

Warnings: Abuse/ control issues, shitty mgk, teacher/student

The final bell rang signifying that the school day was over. Everyone was rushing but I took my time packing up my things. I wasn’t really excited to head to practice.

Don’t get me wrong I love my team and I love basketball, but I hate my coach. Mr.Kelly has it out for me and I’m not sure why.

I exited the classroom and took my time heading to the gym. As I turned down the hall I heard a small debate.

“ Come on Megan I’ve been asking you to go out with me for 3 years. You have to say yes at some point.”

I saw the woman roll her eyes,“ No I don’t Mr.Kelly. I would’ve thought after 3 years of saying no you’d realize I wasn’t interested in you.”

I saw anger spread across Mr.Kelly’s face as he stalked closer to the woman. He had her trapped between a wall of lockers and himself.

It didn’t take much thought from me to get involved in whatever was happening here.

“ Hey coach,” as soon as he heard my voice he backed off the woman. I spared a glance her way,“ Hey Ms.Fox.”

Keep reading

AHHHH

NO NO NO NO NO NO WHY

Sometimes, when Sirius is sad he'll go and cry at the lake. And most of the time, a small black cat will sit with him until he feels okay.

Sometimes, when Regulus is sad he'll go and cry at the astronomy tower. And more often than not, a black dog will join him until he's calmed down.

Neither knows their brother is an animagus

Unconventional comfort

Pairings: Natasha x you

Words: 1379

Warnings: This contains nursing. It is not s*xual in any way but it is slightly unconventional hence the warning. If you don’t like it or do not have anything kind to day, please move on. Thank you

Summary: You had accidentally - and thankfully, managed to provide Natasha with a comfort and closeness she'd always been denied.

It wasn't rare for Natasha to have nightmares. Due to her past, they were kind of expected. Every night at around the same time, you'd be abruptly awoken by a muffled cry of fear coming from the spot just next to you. You'd rouse almost instantly, desperate to sooth her but not daring to touch her in fear of how she'd react. Sometimes, she'd manage to bring herself out of it.

She'd wake up only briefly before seeking you out with a soft whimper of both fear and confusion, and you'd pull her into your arms, sooth her back to sleep with a gentle hand grazing over the bare skin of her back.

Other times, you weren't so lucky.

There was one time, just a few short months ago that she'd had one of the worst nightmares that exists to date. It had started with her shifting in place slightly, eyebrows furrowed as she lets out a small whimper.

But then it had progressed into quiet cries that had slowly risen in volume until they could be perceived as literal screams of terror. In the midst of your own fear and panic, you'd instinctively made the mistake of trying to wake her.

It was just a touch. Barely even a graze of your finger against her skin. But it was enough. She'd violently shoved you away from her with that could only be described of cry of unbridled rage. Her hands had reached for your throat, and you were sure they would have reached their destination if it hadn't been for the sleepy disorientation still clouding her hazy, tormented mind.

With a skill you didn't even know you possessed, you had managed to haul her thriving body into your arms. You'd situated yourself against the headboard with her between your legs, both your arms and legs pinning her body to your own. She'd screamed. She'd thrashed and swore and called you every name under the sun. But you hadn't let her go.

Eventually, she'd seemed to realise you wouldn't be letting her go and was quick to slump into a defeated lump in your arms.

You'd adjusted her slightly so she was more or less cradled, her legs curled up against your hip whilst her head had come to rest against your chest. Your own arms had secured her to you, gentle hands brushing the sweat soaked hair out of her face whilst gentle coos of comfort had escaped your lips.

Her hands had risen to take ahold of your shirt, silently clinging, pleading even, not to let her go. She was sniffling quietly, eyes drooping and quietly pleading for sleep. But she refuses to allow it, and you don't dare force her.

As Natasha had laid there, cradled in your arms like she was no more than an infant, she'd reached for your hand and had coaxed it to her face. You had understood her silent implication, tenderly cupping her cheek and grazing the pad of your thumb over the still damp skin.

What happened next had been a complete accident.

Due to being half asleep and rather uncoordinated, your thumb had slipped down slightly and had grazed over her bottom lip as opposed to her cheek. Natasha, seemingly close to sleep as well, had simply reacted upon instinct. Her lips had parted, and she'd accepted the pad of your thumb into her mouth without hesitation before beginning to suckle.

You'd stared down at her in awe, too scared to move and disturb the serene look of complete content that had slipped onto her features. It had felt like seconds and hours all at the same time before the current predicament it had simultaneously clicked for the both of you.

Like she had been set on fire, Natasha had pulled away from your thumb. Her eyes had ripped open, irises full of both embarrassment and humiliation. She'd looked up at you with a look so full of fear it was almost as though she was waiting for you to belittle her.

But you couldn't and wouldn't ever do that.

Before she could even begin to rip herself out of your arms, a strange sense of calm had settled upon you and you'd found yourself gently coaxing her back to your chest. She'd complied warily, and not a word was spoken between the two of you as you had once again trialed the pad of your thumb over her bottom lip.

Her hand had risen to timidly cover your own, and as she'd continue to stare to at you with a look so heartbreakingly full of fear, you'd gently parted her lips and coaxed the pad of your thumb back into her mouth.

Whether it be instinct or something else entirely, she'd begun to suckle almost instantly, her whole body going limp with what could only be described as relief. Her eyes had fluttered closed, and with your free hand, you'd traced gentle circles over the small of her back.

*

It was on the third nightmare of the week that the dynamic had shifted a little. You'd been undoubtedly exhausted after just getting back from a two day stakeout with Clint and Yelena, so when Natasha has woken with yet another nightmare, you'd simply pulled her into your chest.

She had seemed placated. She'd gone quiet and still, laying there on her side with with her head buried between your breasts. You had just begun to drift of to sleep again when what could only be described as a whine had escaped her lips, and though your body had protested, you had gone to sit up so she could have access to your thumb.

But one simple action had stopped you. Like it was the most natural thing in the world, she'd latched on to the swell of your breast over the material of your shirt. Her suckles were gentle and consistent, the heat of her mouth leaving your shirt slightly damp. You'd stared at her, stunned, and almost entranced at the sight before you.

It had taken only moments for everything to seemingly fall into place.

Natasha would always pay careful to your breasts during intimate moments. She'd almost worship them, in a sense, and she'd said many times that they were one of her favourite things about you. As you watched her mouth move, you'd come to the realisation that letting her suckle would be the same thing but with a slightly different context.

You hadn't allowed yourself to hesitate as you'd pulled off your shirt, shuffling up the bed slightly so that your breast were level with her head. Cupping the flesh, you'd grazed your nipple over her bottom lip, and just like the many tunes before, instinct had her latching on without hesitation.

You felt the hot air of her content exhale before you'd heard it, and with a hand on the back of her head to keep her close, you'd settled back into your pillow, feeling more than seeing her soft suckles against your skin.

It was pleasant feeling, but not in an pleasurable way. More so it was soothing, and before you knew it, you felt yourself falling back to sleep too.

*

What occurs on those bad nights was never brought up between the two of you. In fact, if it wasn't for the occasional awkward glance sent your way from Natasha, you would have assumed you'd dreamt it.

You didn't necessarily mind, because you knew how hard it was for Natasha to open herself up and allow herself to be seen in such a vulnerable yet intimate way. But a part of you did wish she would at least acknowledge it so you didn't feel so alone.

Thankfully, you knew wasn't because she regrets it or didn't like it. Each gentle tug at your shirt after every bad dream proves that. You just wish she knew it was nothing to be embarrassed about and hoped one day, that would be the case.

**

I hope you enjoyed 🩵

BRO I SCREAMED CREAMED AT ALL OF THAT

#thebests

New Neighbor

Pairing: Camgirl!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: A twist of fate brings you unexpectedly closer to the camgirl you watch twice a week.

Warnings: 18+ nsfw content; bottom!wanda, masturbation, fingering, voyeurism, exhibitionism, toys, dirty talk

A/N: Welcome to my first series! This one will be three parts.

Part 1 of “The Camgirl Next Door” | Series Masterlist

–––––––––––––

Truthfully, you don’t remember exactly how it started. 

One day, you had inadvertently come across the account of one “Scarlet Witch” on some stereotypical camgirl website and ever since then, you’d found yourself tuned in for every show. 

But there was nothing stereotypical about Scarlet Witch herself.

For starters, she was absolutely breathtaking from head to toe, and god, you had seen it all. But she wasn’t just a pretty face - and a pretty body of course - she was so much more.  

She never came across as solely performative. Sure, she put on a great show, but it never seemed forced and she was beyond adorable when interacting with her subscribers. It sounded rather silly to say about someone you’d never met, who also did this for a living, but she always seemed genuine. 

You’d learned her name was Wanda. She was Sokovian and sometimes her accent came out when she was completely lost in her pleasure, her voice low and raspy. Certain compliments made her blush and when she laughed, her body shook as if she couldn’t contain it. 

Everything about her drew you in from that very first show you’d curiously decided to watch. You simply couldn’t get enough of her. 

After an especially tough day at work, you were looking forward only to Wanda’s show. You made it home just in time to hastily put together a quick dinner and take a shower before Wanda’s stream started. 

Once comfortable in bed, you pulled up her account on your laptop and scrolled on your phone while waiting for the show to start. When Wanda’s endearing nose scrunch graced your screen, your phone was swiftly discarded, your eyes glued to her like always.

“Hi everyone,” she said, sitting on her bed in a black silk robe, hints of red lingerie peeking out through the loosely tied front. She began reading her chat comments as per usual and responding to the warm welcomes. 

You sent a greeting with a tip and felt your whole body flush when she responded sweetly to your message. 

“Thank you WitchsGirl! I hope you had a beautiful day yourself.”

Even the way she said your username had you practically swooning and you imagined how your real name would sound in that voice you adored so much, sweet like honey but far from innocent.

As the show went on, you sent her a few more tips, one to encourage her to take some clothing off, another to see her edge herself.

You ignored the part of you that knew the real reason you were so generous with your tips was not for your own viewing pleasure. At the end of the day, you wanted her to feel appreciated. And if a small dollar amount could make her smile on a particularly rough day or help her buy that one thing she really wanted, you’d give in every time.

Not to mention, she was amazing at what she did.

Watching her touch herself, listening to her moans, seeing those long, pretty fingers stretch herself out - it made you feel hot all over. It also made your imagination run wild. You wanted badly to be the one getting those reactions out of her. 

You thought about her far more than you should’ve, wondering how she liked to be fucked when she was with a partner, how loud she could really get, what positions were her favorites, the list was endless.

And every time you sat there and watched her rub her clit in tight circles, her glistening cunt on full display, juices dripping down her thighs, you couldn’t help but wonder so much about how she would taste. 

Would she be sweet, or tangy, or both? Would she let you tease her until she was desperate, or would she grab you by your hair and fuck your face until she was satisfied?

As your mind spun with the possibilities, you were drawn back to the present by the sight of her coming undone on your screen. 

She looked like a work of art when she came, with her eyebrows furrowed so cutely, eyes squeezed shut, and her mouth hung open in pure pleasure. 

The whimpers that left her mouth made you uncomfortably wet and it wasn’t uncommon for you to join her, getting yourself off to the sights and sounds only her show could give you.

You felt a twinge of sadness as she began to say her goodbyes for the night, but you’d see her again in a couple days and you couldn’t wait. 

You became especially excited for the next show when she teased that she’d be using toys, blowing a kiss to the camera before ending the stream.

Despite the long and frustrating day you’d had, you fell asleep with a smile on your face and hoped your dreams would be filled with Wanda. 

The day of her next show caught up with you before you knew it. 

Work was busy, but the good kind of busy, and you arrived home so pleasantly tired each night that sleep came easily. 

It was your day off and you were making your morning coffee when you heard some commotion outside. Out of curiosity, since you did live in a rather quiet apartment complex, you decided to see what was going on. 

When you opened the door, you gasped at what you saw.

There she was - Wanda, Scarlet Witch, your guilty pleasure - moving boxes into the unit next door. 

You couldn’t believe your own eyes. The woman you fantasized about regularly, who had no idea who you were, was… your new neighbor?

A thousand thoughts took over your mind, none of them helpful as she noticed your presence. 

She’s even prettier in real life. I’m dreaming, aren’t I? Is she moving in? Oh god, how will I even act around her? Maybe she’s helping someone else move. Maybe she’s not. Her hair looks so soft. And her eyes… they’re the perfect shade of green. Her eyes that are looking directly at me, oh fuck. 

“Hi, do you live here?” she asked cheerily, setting down the boxes she was holding. 

“Uh, y-yeah… yes, I do.” You wanted to slap yourself for being such a nervous wreck in front of her. “Are you moving in?”

“Yes! Just signed a one-year lease,” she said, before shaking her head. “Sorry, my name’s Wanda.”

She held out her hand for you to shake, the same hand you watched her pleasure herself with twice a week, but you tried not to think about that.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N,” you replied, awkwardly returning the gesture and feeling yourself flush as your hands touched for the first time. “Do you, um, need any help?”

“No, it’s okay! I’m just bringing up some of the important stuff and I have movers helping with the rest, but thank you,” she beamed, appearing truly grateful for the offer.

Doing your best not to let there be an uncomfortable silence, you came up with a friendly response. 

“Well, if you need any help, let me know. Or if you have any questions about the place. Anything really!” You rubbed the back of your neck, trying to physically force the nerves out of your body. “You know where I live, so…”

“Right, thank you. I appreciate it,” she smiled. “See you around, Y/N.” 

And with that she was collecting her boxes again to take them inside her apartment. 

You rushed back inside your own apartment, finally letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. 

See you around, Y/N.

The way your name rolled off her tongue had a smile making its way onto your face, but the other half of her sentence filled you with dread.

See you around. You would be seeing her, she was your neighbor now. You’d barely survived brief introductions with her and you knew this wasn’t the last time you’d have to interact with her. 

You were torn between pure joy and crippling anxiety.

And guilt.

You felt waves of guilt hit you as reality settled in. Wanda had seemed so excited to have met her neighbor, someone kind and willing to help. She had no idea you knew her already, and quite intimately at that. You’d seen her fully exposed, you were familiar with how she liked to touch herself, you knew what her face looked like when she was denied an orgasm, and also when she had one. And she was completely unaware of it. 

The guilt drove you to miss her show that night. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to watch, knowing she was filming it next door, especially knowing that in her mind, you were probably watching television or reading a book to relax for the night, not watching her masturbate on camera. 

It didn’t even occur to you that she might’ve been thinking of you that night, her attractive new neighbor, as she clenched around her favorite toy in front of her viewers.

You opted out of tuning in for the next few weeks.

During this time, Wanda had actually taken you up on your offer and had come knocking on your door with questions about the complex. 

She tried not to feel bad about bothering you, not when your face lit up every time she stopped by. 

Not even when she considered she might just be coming up with things to be confused about so she would have an excuse to talk to you. 

You certainly didn’t mind helping her, in fact, those brief moments were the new highlights of many of your days. 

The more you saw her, the more you were motivated to stay away from her online activities. Being around her felt way too good for you to mess it up by watching her shows and letting the guilt gnaw away at you piece by piece. 

Some nights, you swore you could hear her performances through the apartment walls. With red tinting your cheeks and heat pooling between your legs, you’d put on music to drown out any faint sounds that might make their way over.

It seemed that Wanda wasn’t seeing anyone, which gave you hope. She rarely had people over and the few times you’d run into each other on your way out, she mentioned she was going to see her brother or her best friend, Monica. 

You wanted to do this right, despite the occasional nagging feeling that you were lying to her, or at least omitting the truth.  

You felt especially bad when you had to feign interest in her work, asking her what she did for a living as if you didn’t already know. She responded saying something about online networking and you bit your lip to hide your smile at her cover. 

You knew you were crushing hard, so you tried to live your lie. As much as you really wanted to at times, you didn’t let yourself give into temptation. You didn’t watch her shows.

Until one night, when you received an unexpected email notification. 

It was a link for an “exclusive” Scarlet Witch livestream. It wasn’t one of her normal show nights and that piqued your interest. 

The email said she would be doing something extra special to give back to the most devoted of her viewers. Your curiosity outweighed your conscience, and you found yourself back on the website you thought you’d left behind. 

When she appeared on screen, you felt a mix of guilt and excitement. You had missed seeing her like this, but it also felt wrong and you tried to push that feeling down and just focus on her. 

She went through her introductions, saying hello and thank you to viewers as they joined and chatted and sent small tips. You didn’t want to seem cold, knowing you were usually one of her best tippers, so you went against your better judgment and sent in a greeting and a tip as well. 

“Welcome back, WitchsGirl, I’ve missed you darling. And thank you for the generous tip,” Wanda said into the camera, flashing a smile. You felt as though you could melt right then and there. She’d noticed your absence all this time and you briefly wondered if just disappearing like that was a dick move; you hadn’t even considered that she would notice, let alone miss you. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by Wanda’s voice over the stream. 

“So tonight’s show is gonna be a little different,” she started. “I would like to make a private custom video for my highest tipper. Whoever it ends up being, just private message me what you’d like to see in your video and I’ll make your dreams come true.”

Your jaw dropped. A custom video, just for you, for your eyes only.

You didn’t know if it was the overwhelming desire to see her in a way no one else would get to or if it was the jealousy that consumed you at the thought of someone else getting that chance instead, but your mind was already made up. 

You knew it was wrong, but you simply couldn’t pass up an opportunity like this. 

You started out tipping slowly in smaller amounts, just to keep up with some of the other viewers. But at the end of the show, when she was about to call it, you sent in the highest tip of the night, securing the prize as your own.

“Wow, thank you WitchsGirl, looks like I’ll be making something very special for you!” she exclaimed with a shocked expression on her face, followed by a suggestive smile. 

Your heart was beating fast in your chest, and it only worsened when you received a message from her after the livestream had ended.

Let me know what you’d like to see in your video, sweetheart <3

You blushed at the pet name, even though you knew she was really saying it to the anonymous “WitchsGirl” and not to you directly. 

You thought long and hard about what you wanted to request, and then it came to you. You remembered seeing something on a website one time - a sizable dark red dildo with a clit-sucking vibrator to match - and thinking of her, Scarlet Witch. 

Is it possible for me to buy you something to use for the video?

You nervously pressed send and waited for her response, which came surprisingly fast.

That’s so sweet, I would love that. Just use the “send a gift” link on my page. 

You followed the link and purchased the items, smiling to yourself as you imagined her reaction. Would she think it was thoughtful? Would she like the symbolism? 

Before you could get too wrapped up in your own thoughts, you decided to message her back. 

Ordered, expedited shipping. I hope you enjoy pretty girl.

That night, you fell asleep to thoughts of Wanda, filming something just for you, using the toys you picked out for her to pleasure herself. 

Two days later, Wanda received a package. 

She knew it was her gift for the video since she wasn’t expecting anything else and she almost couldn’t contain her excitement.

She opened the package enthusiastically and gasped when she saw its contents. She picked up the large silicone cock first, mouth agape not only at the length and girth, but at the deep red color of it. She loved that it was a matching set. She focused her attention on the vibrator next, making a mental note to make sure she charged it or put in batteries, whichever was required. 

She set the items down to dispose of the packaging when she noticed something odd. There was a name on the package that wasn’t hers. 

It was yours. 

She frowned in confusion. Why would your name be on her package? Her mind raced with possible explanations, but she only landed on one that made sense.

But you couldn’t be WitchsGirl, could you?

Sure, she’d caught your eyes lingering on her before and sometimes she wondered if you liked her in more than just a friendly way, but until now she’d assumed it was pretty innocent. 

Then she thought about how one of her best and most adoring viewers had disappeared for weeks, ever since… the day she met you. 

Oh. It really was you. 

Upon this realization, she knew exactly what she had to do.

Later that night, you settled into bed with a cup of tea and a new episode of your favorite show on Hulu waiting for you.

You were about to put it on when your phone chimed with a notification, which you might’ve ignored if the “Scarlet Witch” in the preview didn’t catch your eye.

You opened it up and felt your body heat up at the thumbnail of the video link attached. Any thoughts of doing anything else went out the window and you were already opening the link, ready to see Wanda using the toys you’d bought for her.

A sultry “hi baby” was the first thing you heard when you pressed play and it sent a shock of arousal straight to your core. 

You bit your lip at the sight of Wanda sitting atop her bed in nothing but a lacy set of black lingerie, with two maroon-colored items in front of her. You were certain if you could see yourself in that moment, you’d be as red as her new toys.

“Thank you for these, I love them,” she said, running her hands along her thighs. “I can’t wait to fill myself up with this one.” She ran her fingertips along the thick dildo, then moved them to the vibrator, picking it up. “And this one… I bet it’s gonna feel so good on my clit.” 

She bit her lip and you knew you were a goner, already clenching your thighs together.

She took off her bra and cupped her breasts, massaging them as she looked into the camera. If you were being honest, it felt more like she was looking into your soul. She pinched and teased straining pink nipples, letting out affected breaths as she worked herself up.

“If you were here, I’d have you suck on them. Just the thought is making me so wet.”

God. You’d heard her talk dirty before, but never to you and you only. You tried to control your breathing as you kept watching.

She teased herself over her panties, stroking her fingers along the front of them before pulling them to the side and exposing her bare pussy. You could tell she was wet from the way the light hit her slick folds and you practically drooled.

She covered herself once more, much to your dismay, but you couldn’t complain when she was hooking her fingers in the top of her panties and pulling them down.

She spread her legs for you, using one hand to spread herself open and give you a better view of her dripping center. 

Wanda lazily touched herself for a minute, stroking her clit and dipping her fingers inside of herself, before she moved her hand to her mouth and sucked her digits clean. 

“Mmm, I bet you want a taste too, don’t you sweetheart?” 

Yes. Please. You wanted to plead out loud as if you weren’t watching a prerecorded video. It almost felt cruel for her to tease you with the prospect of something you’d wanted for so long.

She reached for the vibrator first and turned it on at a low setting. She swiped it through her folds before pressing the suction part to her clit and letting out a shaky moan. “Fuck, this was such a good gift detka.” 

You throbbed at her words, especially the term of endearment. You’d never heard her say it on any of her streams before, you weren’t even really sure what it meant, but it aroused you to no end.

She increased the vibrations and started letting out desperate, needy moans, her hips beginning to buck into the toy. She looked like an absolute meal, spread out for you, as she humped against the item you gifted her.

Her eyes were fluttering shut despite her trying to maintain eye contact with the camera and you could tell she was getting close already. Watching her let go and lose herself in her pleasure without the pressure of tippers begging for her to edge or telling her what they wanted to see was heavenly. 

“Oh, fuck, do you want-” she cut herself off with a whimper. “Do you want to see me cum like this?” She panted as she spoke, her eyes shut tightly as she teetered on the edge.

You wished you could respond and tell her yes, you wanted to watch her fall apart just like that. 

As if she could hear your thoughts, she kept the toy latched onto her sensitive clit until she was crying out. Her body shook as she hit her peak, her hips nearly lifting off the mattress. You were certain you’d soaked through your own underwear at the sight of her riding out her orgasm against the vibrator in her hand, her head thrown back and her face contorted in pleasure. 

“God,” she breathed out as she came down from her high. “I’m definitely using this again. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to put it down after that.” 

She laughed breathily at her own comment, but your gaze was fixed on the space between her legs, where a string of her juices hung between the toy and her messy pussy. You wished you were there to collect it into your mouth.

“I think I’m wet enough for this one now, hm?” Her words brought you out of your trance and you watched as she replaced the vibrator in her hand with the large dildo you had almost forgotten about. 

She brought it up to her lips, sucking on the head for a moment, and then moved it lower. She dragged it through her folds, coating the length of the toy with her arousal. You cursed under your breath - you didn’t think you’d ever seen her this wet.

She teased her entrance with the head of the fake cock, dipping it inside before pulling out again. You looked at her face, almost choking at the sinful gaze she was giving the camera, green eyes dark with lust.

Wanda groaned as she finally pushed the toy inside her aching center, her walls fluttering around the welcome intrusion. Your thighs pressed together tightly at the view of her filling herself to the brim, her chest heaving.

“Fuck, I’ve never been so full,” she whined, adjusting to the size. “It’s so big, you’re filling me up so good.”

You audibly moaned at that, beginning to think that if she kept talking to you that way you’d fall apart without even being touched.

She began slowly pumping the toy in and out of her tight hole, moaning each time it disappeared inside her cunt. You could hear how wet she was, sloshing sounds reaching your ears with every thrust.

“Shit, that feels so good, so fucking good,” she breathed out, increasing her pace. “Maybe next time I’ll ride it for you, would you like that?”

Your heart nearly stopped at her words. Next time? 

“Mmm, god, you know what I’m thinking about? You, wearing this, fucking me with it,” she panted out. “Do you want to fuck me slow and edge me all night? Or would you fuck me fast and rough and make me cum?” As she spoke, she began to thrust the toy with more force, her free hand gripping the sheets desperately. 

The thought of using the toy on her made you dizzy with lust. You imagined kissing her neck as you pounded into her or laying back as she bounced in your lap, making you beg to touch her. 

“I’m so close, detka, oh!” Her eyes slammed shut as the tight coil inside her became almost unbearable. “Fuck, Y/N, right there, I’m-” 

Before she could finish her sentence, she came, hard. 

She spasmed against the bed, her thighs seeming unsure if they wanted to close or stay open with how violently they twitched. Her moans came out broken, her mouth hung open in a silent scream. 

She gushed around the toy, cum spilling out with each thrust as she slowed down her movements. 

You felt like the luckiest person on the planet. You were insanely turned on by what you were seeing and hearing through your screen. She looked beautiful in the throes of pleasure, and the way she moaned your name as she hit her peak did unspeakable things to you. 

The way she moaned your name.

You hazily registered that she’d cried out your actual name, not your username, but you were distracted as she spoke again.

“That was… fuck,” she said, breathing heavily and attempting to sit up straight. “Thank you for these. I hope you enjoyed your gift as much as I enjoyed mine.” She had a goofy, blissed out smile on her face and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Goodnight, detka, I’ll be seeing you.”

She ended the video there and everything that had just happened played over in your mind. How were you ever supposed to act normal around her again after this?

Not only that, but she’d moaned your name when she came undone. Was that an accident? Was she thinking about the real you while she touched herself and it just slipped out? Or did she somehow know that the person she was making that for was you?

No, there was no way she could know that.

You mulled it over for a while and decided to sleep on it. Your mind was running in circles and you were exhausted. On top of that, you were still extremely sexually frustrated. 

You tossed and turned, attempting to ignore your nagging thoughts brought on by the night’s events. Eventually, you did fall asleep, your exhaustion finally taking over your impeccable ability to overthink. 

The next morning, you woke up later than usual, deciding to make breakfast instead of coffee since you overslept. 

Spending time in the kitchen with some music in the background kept your mind off of things - thank god, you weren’t quite ready to deal with reality just yet - but a knock at the door interrupted the moment.

You weren’t sure who you were expecting to see, but it certainly wasn’t Wanda, looking adorable as ever in a skirt and black thigh-highs.

“Hi,” you managed, nerves kicking in.

“Hey,” she said, looking at you sweetly with those hypnotizing green eyes. “Sorry if this is weird but I was wondering if you had any honey? I just made some tea and I didn’t realize I ran out of honey…”

“Uh, yeah, I think I do,” you responded, stepping back from the doorway. “You can come in while I look.”

“Sure, thank you.”

You went back to the kitchen, Wanda trailing behind, and began to search the cabinets for wherever you might’ve left it. 

“If you don’t have any, that’s fine too,” she said softly. 

As you looked around, you didn’t notice Wanda coming further into the kitchen, where she leaned against the counter and looked at you with a smirk on her face.

You located the honey, but the next words out of Wanda’s mouth made your heart stop and the bottle fall from your grasp.

“So, did you enjoy my video, Y/N?”

Cuts of Your Silhouette

Pairing: Soft!Dark!Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Wanda can no longer go to the universe where she'd be most happy but she'll use all the power she's accumulated so far to go the universe where she's most loved. What she finds in this universe is unexpected but in the end, Wanda cannot help but covet it no matter what.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. soft!dark!Wanda. dubcon. explicit smut. Fingering. Oral. choking. overstimulation. strap-on use (cum filled). dirty talk. obsessive behaviour. domestic fluff. angst. MoM spoilers

Note: Innocent moots, don't look at me 👀 This is me acknowledging MoM but only in the fact that Wanda is so hot and deserves to be happy in her own unhinged way LOL

miláčik - honey/darling

Count: 7.2k

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The universe where I'm most loved.

Wanda chants this only thing in her head, cautious hope blooming where there was only decay. 

Earth-838 was no longer an option, thanks to Strange's incessant determination to stop her from becoming happy.

That universe was closed off to her, but it was okay. If Wanda couldn't have the universe where she was most happy, she could make do with where she was most loved. 

Wanda has just enough of America's power to make one trip, and she needs to make it count before Strange could come and ruin everything again.

The universe where I'm most loved.

A part of Wanda feels like she's missing something important from this universe she's abandoning. It almost feels as if something is resisting her from going to the universe where she's most loved, but Wanda forces her body to traverse. 

Enough. 

Wanda has had enough of the grief and misery this universe brought. She has always loved more and loved harder than everyone else in her life. For once, Wanda wants to be the person who is loved beyond imaginable measures. 

And this new universe will give that to her. 

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White quartz. 

It's the first thing Wanda notices. The kitchen island is huge, stretching and covering the middle of the kitchen, and she immediately falls in love with it. 

Wanda misses cooking real meals, a part of her that was subdued over time, with the lack of time and survival at the forefront. But this kitchen looked well-used while spotless. 

The smell of freshly baked cookies invades Wanda's nose, and she almost feels flustered at how homey it makes her feel. 

Looking up, Wanda turns her head and is shocked by her own reflection. Her hair is still a bright auburn, falling just a couple of inches below her shoulder with some natural waves as if she hadn't bothered straightening or fully curling it. 

"Mom, mom, mom!"

The sudden voices and thudding footsteps through the door startle Wanda. She looks to where the front door opened, and two tiny bodies come barreling through towards her.

The arms thrown around her waist almost knock the wind out of her, but the tears sting her eyes because—

"Billy, Tommy," Wanda trembles. 

"Mom, mom! Did you make the cookies?"

"Are they done?" 

"Can we have ice cream with it right now?" 

Wanda needs to swallow down the overwhelming emotion that knots in her throat before she can answer. 

Of course, Wanda thought. Where she was most loved—it'd be where her boys were. Whatever had occurred in this universe to cause Wanda to not be the happiest—it didn't matter because her boys were here, and as long as they were here, she could be the most loved.

"Sur—"

"Wanda Maximoff, you better not be giving in and spoiling the boys' appetite before dinner."

The new voice makes Wanda freeze. It's not familiar, raising Wanda's hackles as she holds the boys closer to her. She looks to the door again, and when you come through...Wanda's at a loss for words.

There's no universe where she's seen you.

You're struggling to hold all the grocery bags in your arms as you peer over to the trio. 

"Did you boys just abandon me with all the bags for cookies?" You cock your brows at them, meant to look displeased, but Wanda and the boys could see the tiny smirk of amusement on your lips. 

The boys giggle before they move out of Wanda's hold towards you. There's a moment where Wanda wants to grab them back to her again, but when she sees them running towards you and taking some of the bags to lessen your load, Wanda can't help but stare.

"Sorry, mum," Billy gives you a boyish smile, trying to take another bag from you to help.

"But we could smell the cookies from outside!" Tommy cackles but still helps you out as well. 

Wanda feels her heart stop.

Mum?

The boys were referring to you as mum?

How could you be—

Now that one of your hands is free, Wanda watches as you ruffle the boys' hair one at a time before kissing the crown of their head.

"I'll forgive this once because I know mom's cookies are the best in the world and if I had been faster...I would've left you two in the dust," you start laughing as the boy screams indignations with squealing laughter. 

You're still laughing as the three of you make it back to the kitchen, placing all the bags on the counter. 

"Why don't you two run up and finish your homework? We'll give you a call when dinner is ready." You look at the boys.

"But the cookies—"

"—Are for after dinner," you cut them off with a look that has the boys sighing as they look at each other and give you and Wanda a kiss on the cheek before running off. 

Anxiety fills Wanda the second she's alone with you. It makes her want to raise her hands, preparing to fight you because who could you be that would make you mum to her boys? Who were you to intrude in on her happiness and the world where she was most loved?

Was this a universe where Vision existed and they divorced? Were you their stepmother?

You turn your face to her, and Wanda's hackles rise like the hair on the back of her neck. You reach out, grabbing her apron and pulling her towards you. Wanda's about to unleash the full force of her magic on you but is stopped short when she feels warm lips against her own.

It's hot—needy and desperate almost. 

Her hand falls against your shoulder and grips at your shirt, and the kiss is broken.

"Hi, darling," you pant just mere inches away from her lips. "I really, really like when you look like this."

The way you say it almost sounds like a whine, and Wanda's lip twitches at it.

"Oh?" is the only thing Wanda can say.

You hum, peppering kisses against her jaw and down her neck, and the sensation is almost too overwhelming. On the one hand, this body feels accustomed to the physical affections, but Wanda is not.

"I missed you all day," you sigh. "Can't believe you're just being all pretty here all the time and I miss hours of it. Should I work from home tomorrow?"

Wanda swallows. Your lips keep peppering kisses, and Wanda almost has whiplash how the needy kisses turn into tender ones, brushing over the tip of her nose and eyelids. 

Something hot stings behind Wanda's eyes. 

"Can you?" Wanda manages to say. She doesn't know what to say otherwise. It's daunting to know she knows nothing about her life here—she knows nothing about you. 

"I don't have any meetings tomorrow," you stand straighter, your eyes drifting up in thought. "Maybe I should take the day off," you muse. "It's been a while since we did something fun with just the two of us."

Wanda doesn't know what to say. She just looks at you, wary and confused. You don't seem to notice her expression too much, taking her silence as agreement to what you suggested. 

You turn to look through the groceries. "What do you want to eat for dinner tonight? I bought a variety of things since you said you weren't sure what you're craving."

Wanda weighs her options and choices. She needs to integrate herself into this life and ensure you don't suspect anything.

"Is there something you're craving?" Wanda asks you in a friendly tone. 

You hum slowly in thought. "Oh, how about those meatballs you made last month? Those were so good, I've been dreaming about them." You start to put away the groceries other than what ingredients you'll need. You mull over what sides to have.

You're mumbling about what's easier to make, and it becomes clear to Wanda you'll be staying to cook with her, and although it's foreign, Wanda finds it endearing. 

Once you finish deciding, you turn to smile impishly at her, and Wanda quirks her brow at it. Despite not knowing you, she somehow feels like she knows that look on you.

"Want to split a cookie? We have to be super quiet, though. I'm pretty sure the boys have a secret power of knowing when we're eating cookies without them."

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It becomes clear throughout the evening that while, yes, her boys love her, they're not the reason why this variant of Wanda is the most loved in the universe.

It's you—you're the reason. 

The evening puts Wanda on edge for different reasons. She looks at the ring on her left hand, trying to not fiddle with it again. You helped her put it back on when the two of you were done cooking, seemingly knowing where she always placed it.

She was married, Wanda deliberated, to a woman. It was odd, Wanda had never considered it, but she found that she was at ease with it.

You make her laugh, you look at her with so much love, and Wanda feels suffocated by it. She feels smothered in every way she has ever wanted to be, and she could drown in your love and the way you look at her and the boys. 

They're not yours; it's obvious. You've stepped up into a role you never had to, yet you did. For her, yes, but because you love the two boys as if they're your own. 

You always find a way to touch her, as if you can't be close enough. It's your legs pressed against hers underneath the table, almost tangled together. It's your hand on top of hers at the diner table or on her thigh.

It's all subconscious, Wanda knows. She knows because she looks into your head on a surface level. Things float about and tease deep inside, and Wanda must refrain from breaking into your mind piece by piece. There'd be time for that later. 

"Alright, what should we do tonight? Movies? Games?" You ask as you gather the plates with Tommy to place into the dishwasher. Wanda's eyes trail after you, staring at your form in scrutiny before Billy tugs at her arm. 

"What do you want to do, mom?" He asks her, and Wanda knows he's asking her because he can tell she's been out of sorts, and it makes her heart swell.

"Oh, anything you want to do, sweetheart," Wanda wraps her arm around Billy, placing his head against her collarbone as she strokes his hair and kisses his forehead.

"Movie!" Tommy is screaming from the kitchen as he runs back in with you trailing behind with the cookies and ice cream.

"Do you mind grabbing plates, darling?" You ask Wanda, kissing the crown of her head as you pass by her and set the things down in your arms.

Wanda is about to get up, but you place your hand on her arm.

"Use your powers," you tilt your head in confusion as to why she was getting up.

Wanda is surprised you so openly encourage her to use her powers, but she likes it. Four plates float from the kitchen to the dining table and set themselves down gently. 

"Alright, how many cookie ice cream sandwiches do we want?" You look at the boys.

"Ten!" The boys shout simultaneously as they look at each other, smiling.

You snort, and Wanda finds herself laughing.

"Ambitious," you smirk, "but let's start with two and go from there."

"Mom," Tommy whines as he looks at Wanda like he knows she'll be more likely to cave in. "Tell mum to make it three."

The look Tommy gives her makes Wanda tender. This is everything she wanted, this was everything she deserved, and she'd do anything for her boys.

Wanda looks at you and shrugs. "It can't hurt to have one more."

You point the ice cream scoop at her but grab more cookies. "When either the ice cream melts by the time they get to the third one, or they get too full, you will regret this, Maximoff."

You're still grinning, and the boys are chatting animatedly, and Wanda is surprised to find she wants this moment to last, even with you in it.

The boys grab their plates and take off carefully to the sofa and begin looking for a movie to watch. You diligently make a cookie ice cream sandwich for Wanda.

"Let's go," you say as you pass her the dessert.

"Not going to make yourself one?" Wanda asked as you went to put the ice cream back in the freezer.

You return, pecking her quickly on the lips, and then promptly take a bite out of the dessert you just made Wanda.

"Someone's going to have to eat the third one the boys won't finish," you say after chewing.

"And if they finish it?" Wanda challenges.

You grin at her innocently. "If it seems like they're on track to eating the third one, I'll share with my generous wife."

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The boys don't finish the third ice cream cookie sandwich as you predicted, and you look entirely too smug at her when you're eating the soggy dessert. Of course, you generously shared the dessert with Wanda, who tried to refuse, but it was futile. 

The night was peaceful, and Wanda almost hadn't wanted it to end. You spent the evening curled into her, almost purring as she ran her fingers through your hair, scratching your scalp. You fit perfectly against her, warm and alive.

Wanda doesn't know what to think, and she merely goes with the flow, keeping you close as you clearly so want. She strokes the softness of the skin of your arm while you play with the fingers of her other hand.

When you do this, Wanda can't help but think about how you don't know. You don't know her corrupted fingers, blackened by the results of her desperation to be happy. 

"I think it's time for bed, boys," you say suddenly, and Wanda looks over to find the boys half-falling asleep on the couch.

"No, I'm not sleepy," Tommy argues, trying to open his eyes, but they stay half-lidded.

Billy doesn't seem to agree but doesn't speak up either, curling into Wanda's side.

"Bedtime, Tommy," Wanda gives him a look to which he frowns but agrees as he gets up with Billy, and they make their way upstairs.

"I'm going to clean up," you tell Wanda.

"Do you want help?" She offers, but you shake your head.

"No, why don't you start tucking the boys in and I'll be there soon?"

Wanda nods, hesitating for a moment before she leans over and kisses the corner of your mouth, and walks off. She can hear the sounds of dishes clanking as she makes her way up the stairs. Taking her time, she looks around. The hallway is filled with photos of you and her together, and there were photos of all four of them.

But one particular photo made her pause, heart dropping into her stomach as she stared at it.

A photo with Vision with the kids. 

Vision—he was in this universe as well? Had he died? She stares at the photo, finding that the kids don't look much younger—a year at the most.

Wanda stands at the photo longer than she thinks until she can hear someone calling her.

"Mom?"

It's Billy and Tommy, stepping out of the washroom as they've finished brushing their teeth.

"Hey, all ready for bed?" Wanda smiles at them, and they nod. She follows them to their room as they both jump into their bed, only a couple of feet away from each other. 

The scene is all too familiar, and her chest aches. She tucks them in, kissing each of their foreheads as she sits on the edge of Tommy's bed. At this point, you enter the room.

Tommy smiles at you as you grin back at him, walking over to him and kissing his forehead. He rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything.

You then walk over to Billy's bed, sitting on the edge and kissing his forehead.

"Did you have fun tonight?" You ask softly, and the boys nod. "And you finished your homework?"

The boys roll their eyes in union but nod nonetheless.

"Angels, the lot of you are," you tease, and they giggle. 

"Goodnight," you and Wanda bid. "See you in the morning."

"Goodnight," they say together.

"Love you," Billy says sleepily as his eyes close, and Tommy mumbles something similar. 

With that, you stand up, holding your hand out for Wanda. She looks at her kids one more time, chanting to herself that she will see them in the morning, that this isn't a dream and she won't wake to the nightmare. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Were you okay today?" You ask softly. "You were kind of quiet."

The two of you were lying in bed together. You have curled into Wanda again. Your face rested against her chest, arm around her as you rubbed her back.

It's soothing, Wanda thought. It almost made her bitter that she hadn't felt like this in a long time. 

Wanda felt you shift and looked down to see you peering up at her. 

"Of course," Wanda reassures you. "Am I always so rambunctious?"

"Sometimes," you grin, teasing her, and Wanda pinches your side, making you try to wriggle away from her. She holds you tighter, preventing you from moving too far away from her. 

When things settle down, and you wriggle to move back close against her, Wanda stares at you pensively. 

"Do you love me?" She asks.

The question surprises you as you look back up at her. You study her face as if you were looking for answers.

"You haven't asked that since just before our wedding," you comment and that surprises Wanda. Because, at the very least, she knows the two of you have been married for a couple of years. 

This variant of her was so sure you loved her that she hadn't questioned it for years?

It was almost laughable to Wanda. Something jealous brews inside her, simmering just beneath the surface. 

Wanda doesn't say anything, and she thinks you might not either, or you'll say something so predictable and empty like, "of course I do."

But you simply press your face into her chest, reaching to grab her hand and drag it to your cheek.

"Look," you tell her, and Wanda freezes.

Privacy was always an issue for the people around Wanda. They always worried about whether or not she was listening to them, even if unintentionally. 

Now with how her powers had grown, it was a given that people automatically assumed she was breaking into your head. Don't get it wrong, Wanda had. Anything to get the results she wanted, she broke every unspoken rule to get it. 

But here you were, freely offering Wanda access. Here you were, being vulnerable to her with all the trust. 

And Wanda didn't hesitate. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You sleep soundly on your side with your back facing Wanda, and she stares at the back of your head. 

She should kill you, Wanda thinks, make it look like an accident. 

The boys would be sad, but she could help them get it over time, couldn't she?

Seeing into your mind was too much. It was too much to see how lucky this variant of this Wanda was. Sure, she had lost many people to Thanos. She had even lost Vision last year to another villain threatening earth. 

But the loss only makes Wanda laugh bitterly because she had already split with Vision years prior, agreeing to amicable joint custody with the boys. 

All because she fell in love with you. 

But could she blame this variant? Wanda watched everything play like a long sitcom about how you loved her. 

This variant had been as miserable as she, had lost just as much as Wanda had, but she had you. 

It was unfair, Wanda thought distantly. Why had you not been in her universe? Or if you were, why did they not meet? Why was she once again the only Wanda to be alone?

This variant loved you tenderly—desperately. She kissed and made love to you like you'd break if she was too rough. 

And Wanda hates that variant for it. To love something so much that she was capable of treasuring it. 

Wanda scoots closer to you, pressing against you as she wraps her arm around you, pulling you flush against her. She presses a kiss against your shoulder and bites into it.

You whimper.

Wanda resolves that all of this is hers now.

This life, the boys, and you. 

Everything belongs to her.

And the first thing Wanda wants to know is if you will break if she's too rough. 

Wanda's hand slides against your thigh, gripping the inner of it roughly before she moves back up and yanks your panties down.

The sharpness of her touch wakes you.

"Wanda?" Your voice is groggy as you startle. "What are you doing?"

"Touching you," Wanda replies simply, her hand slipping between your folds, rubbing your length slowly, stroking your clit in circles when she comes up.

You moan lowly, your hips moving with her hand as she sucks and nips at your neck. It isn't long until Wanda's fingers are slick from you.

"You got so wet quickly, miláčik," Wanda husks in your ear. "You must want me to fuck you badly."

Your breath hitches at the way Wanda talks to you. The two of you engage in dirty talk often, but not like this.

Wanda guides your leg over her hip before she resumes stroking your pussy until you're dripping and thrusting your hips desperately against her fingers for more.

Wanda's other hand is under you, wrapped around your torso and underneath your shirt as she gropes your chest roughly. Her index finger rolls your hardened nipple back and forth, and she can hear your labored breathing.

Your neck is littered with hickeys, dark and bruising. Wanda isn't even close to being done with you, and you look so ruined already. Wanda wants to see you completely undone. She wants to break you down to nothing so she can build you back up to be hers. 

"Wanda..." you keen, gripping the bed sheet on the side, trying to not cry at how bad you want more. Something feels different, but you can't put your finger on it. Honestly, you could barely even think about it with how your body was trembling.

"Use your words, miláčik," Wanda bites at your earlobe. "Tell me what you want—how ready your body is."

You feel close already with how diligent Wanda had been paying attention to your clit, but you just want—

"Please, please, please," you barely get out. "I want you inside, I wanna feel you...I want to cum."

Wanda mutters about how you're such a good girl and thrusts three fingers inside you until she's all the way in, stroking your walls.

"Oh, fuck, yes," you moan, gripping the bedsheets tighter as your leg tenses against Wanda's hip. 

How you feel on Wanda's fingers has her biting your shoulder again, almost hard enough to leave imprints. You whimper at the pain, but Wanda doesn't let up.

Her other hand abandons your chest and moves out of your shirt up to your neck, grasping it. You feel so delicate against her, and Wanda almost understands why this variant was adamant about being gentle. 

"Wanda—" you say, almost a little alarmed, but Wanda hushes you.

"You're gonna cum just like this," she hisses in your ear, squeezing your throat a little tighter. She licks the shell of your ear, and her voice is throaty when she says, "I missed you, too. You wouldn't even believe how long I've been waiting for you."

Wanda can feel herself dripping for you, but she wants to feel you come over her fingers. She keeps her thrusts inside you, curling her fingers as she strokes that spot inside you that makes you tremble. 

"Wanda—"

"Go on and cum, miláčik," Wanda moves her fingers a little faster, keeping the pressure steady as it finally mounts over, and you come with a long groan.

You feel lightheaded and exhausted as Wanda strokes you through the remnants of the hardest orgasm you've ever had.

Going limp against her body, Wanda releases your throat as she pulls her fingers out of you, earning a hum from you. She sucks the mess you made on her fingers, licking the length of her fingers one by one.

You're panting, trying to regain control of your breathing, and Wanda moves and pushes you to lie on your back. She grips the end of your t-shirt, dragging it up and over your head. She stares at your naked form unabashed, appreciating it for a moment before completely undressing herself. 

Wanda adjusts her body over yours, legs straddling your thigh. You feel Wanda lower herself, her wetness spreading over your thigh as she rides it slowly. 

The low guttural moan Wanda lets out sparks something in your stomach. She looks at you, her eyes glowing red for just a moment. 

"It's good you're taking the day off tomorrow."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Just like that," Wanda moans, grinding her hips more firmly.

Your hair is gripped tightly, hair threading through Wanda's fingers as she uses it as leverage to thrust her hips into your face. Wanda looks down, only able to see a little less than half your face as she's sitting on it while you eat her out. 

Your hands are hooked over Wanda's thigh, securing and occasionally massaging her thighs and hips. Your tongue dips inside her, and Wanda grunts. Her thighs tighten around your head. 

Wanda allows you to drag it out a little longer before she pulls at your hair in a warning, and you quickly fasten your lips around her clit, sucking and keeping the pressure steady until Wanda lets out a high keen, thrusting her hips with reckless abandon as she comes messily over your face. 

You don't complain about how she might be suffocating you, and when Wanda slows her hips, coming down from her high, she looks to the side. The curtains are still closed, but she can tell it's nearing noon. 

Wanda had woken up early to drop the kids off at school while you slept on obliviously. When she came back, she only let you sleep a little longer before waking you by peppering kisses up and down your neck, pressing her body into yours as she lay on top of you. 

Wanda's been working your body since, and she's lost count of how many times she's made you orgasm. Similarly, she's lost count for herself as well. 

Climbing off your face carefully, she watches you use your fingers to clean your face, licking her slick off your fingers. The sight of you exhausted but clearly having enjoyed yourself has Wanda leaving more hickeys down your body. You're littered with them, all marked up by her, and she revels in it. 

"Wanda..." you whine, trying to move your body away, but she holds you still. "I can't anymore."

But Wanda doesn't listen, kissing her way up your body until she's face to face with you. She captures your lips in a messy kiss, licking the inside of your mouth and the teeth pulling at your bottom lip. She can taste herself with the taste of you, and it's all Wanda wants. 

"One more," Wanda tells you, caressing your arms until she reaches your hands, pushes them against the mattress, and holds them down. 

"Wanda, I really can't—" you shake your head. "We've been going at it for hours...I'm too sensitive now."

"Feels better that way," Wanda mutters, barely even listening to you. Her body feels addicted to you. Everything in her tells her to take it, to make you give everything to her. You're hers now; you're always going to be hers. 

You try to reason with Wanda, unsure what's gotten into her. The last time the two of you had this much sex was around the time you were on your honeymoon. 

But even then, whatever was happening now was different. Wanda was always a little desperate. It was just who she was after everything she's experienced. As desperate as she was, though, Wanda was also always careful. 

That carefulness seemed to fly out of the window since last night. Wanda was fucking you with reckless abandon, determined to take everything and more. 

You feel a pressure between your legs, something thick and slick pressing into you. Wanda groans, her forehead dropping against yours. You look down, but the only thing you catch is something red attached to Wanda disappearing into you. 

"Wanda—" your breath hitches, feeling the stretch as Wanda moves inside you. "Oh, god, Wanda, it's too much," your hands strain against Wanda's as she laces them together, bringing them over your head and pinned down.

"Just perfect," Wanda mutters, and you can feel her lips ghosting yours. "Feels good, feels so fucking good inside you."

You know then that Wanda used her power to create some kind of strap-on connected to the nerves of her clit. You can feel Wanda's hardened nipples rubbing over yours as she thrusts slowly into you. 

When she's all the way in, Wanda pauses, taking a deep breath. You were trembling from how sensitive you felt; it was on the edge of being painful.

But then Wanda moves, and you let out a string of incoherent pleas. She barely moves out before she's thrusting back in. She strokes the same spot inside you over and over until tears run down your face.

"One more," Wanda breathes into your mouth. "One more, give me just one more."

"I can't—" you huff. 

"Yes, you can," Wanda cuts you off. Her thrusts get harder but remain the same on moving slightly out before thrusting relentlessly back in. The rough sensation brings you closer and closer to the edge, and Wanda can feel you pulsating as you get near your end.

 She drops your hand, and they immediately go to her back, your nails dragging down. Your roughness makes her moan, and Wanda sinks her head into your neck.

"Fuck, I want to come inside you," Wanda mutters. She wants to coat the inside of you. She wants to own you in there too. Wanda wants it all. "I think you'd like that, wouldn't you, miláčik?"

You don't answer, and Wanda grips your face as she lifts her head to stare down at you. Her thrusts are getting messy as you are nearing the climax. 

"Wouldn't you like it?" Wanda asks you again, more roughly this time. "Tell me you want me inside you like that right now, miláčik."

It's like an unspoken threat that if you don't, Wanda won't let you off until you do.

"Yes," you immediately whimper. "Yes, yes, I want you to come inside me."

Wanda looks satisfied as she brings her thumb to stroke your clit until she's roughly ripping your last orgasm out of your over-wrought body. 

The moan you let out is soundless as Wanda groans in the back of her throat, and you feel something warm gush inside you. The thrusting doesn't stop as Wanda rides out the waves until you stop pulsating around her. 

Your chest heaves just as hers does, trying to calm your breathing. You pray that Wanda finally takes mercy on you and keeps her promise that it was just one more. 

You feel the strap-on disappearing until it's just Wanda resting between your legs. She kisses you softly now, and you almost breathe loudly in relief as you return her tender kisses with your own.

Despite how rough Wanda treated you, your gentle kisses are what sways her completely into you. Gentle, rough—you truly love Wanda as she is. 

"I love you," Wanda mumbles against your lips. "Always love me."

You stroke her head, finally regaining your breath.

"Have I ever not?"

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The next few weeks for Wanda are complete bliss. Even though you're somewhat wary around her, you still touch her the same.

This life was perfect, Wanda knows. This was the wonderful little family Wanda had ever wanted. 

Weekdays are filled with domestic heaven, while the weekends are filled with various activities.

Wanda wants this forever, which is why the headaches and glitches she's been experiencing as of late are concerning. 

The spell isn't fully complete, and Wanda curses that she should've fought harder to kill America when she had the chance. They were looking for her, Wanda was sure, and they were getting closer. 

On top of that, she could feel her variant fighting to break loose. 

'Get out,' Wanda could hear her variant in her head. 'Get out! This isn't yours. None of this is! She isn't yours.'

'She's mine and I would never hurt her or the boys,' Wanda would repeatedly say to temper down her variant.

"Are you feeling okay?" 

Wanda snaps her head to look at you, unaware you had approached her.

"Yes," Wanda nods. "Just a headache."

You place your hand over her forehead and frown. "You are a little warm. Maybe you should go lie down. I can finish cleaning and cook tonight."

Wanda nods, and you peck her lips as she makes her way up to her bedroom and locks the door shut. All alone now, her hands returned to their true state, darkened fingers as if decaying. Wanda conjures The Darkhold, flipping through the pages.

There had to be a solution to stay here forever. 

There had to be something to keep Strange and America away from her. 

But before Wanda can search deeper, she hears wreckage downstairs and your scream. 

Wanda immediately transports herself downstairs using her magic and is enraged at the sight.

They found her. 

Strange and America stood in her living room with a portal open, posing to fight her when they saw her. 

"Wanda, you need to stop this," Strange tries to reason with her again, but she tilts her head at him with a condescending smile.

"Stop what? Living my life here? You're the one intruding, and you need to leave. I'm past mercy, Strange."

"This isn't your life!" Strange yells at her. "Let the variant of you go."

"Silence!" Wanda yells at him.

"Oh? Scared your girlfriend's going to find out?" America said with bravado, but Wanda can see her wariness underneath as she eyes you from the side.

You were cautious but silent.

Wanda begins to conjure the red wisps in her hand. "She's my wife." Thrusting her hands out, she releases her magic, and a fight ensues.

Strange is still trying to reason with her, but Wanda doesn't want to hear it anymore.

"You were a fool to bring the girl here," Wanda sneers at him when she gains the upper hand and has Strange subdued and America in her grasp.

The young girl is choking in Wanda's grip, and she sees it as a chance to finally get the power she needs to make this universe hers permanently.

"Wanda, stop!" 

The voice makes Wanda freeze. She turns her head and finds you staring at her with a horrified expression. 

The look of absolute fear makes Wanda feel like she's been punched in the gut.

"What are you doing?" You urge her. "Let her go, she's a kid!"

"No, no, no," Wanda tells you softly, trying to show you that she'd never hurt you. "She's a threat—to me, to you, to us and our life."

"This isn't your life," America chokes before she looks at you. "This isn't your Wanda!"

"Be QUIET," Wanda snarls at America, tightening her grip that makes America choke. 

"Wanda, stop it!" You yell at her, your eyes welling up with tears. "You're hurting people!"

The words make Wanda feel like she's crumbling. She drops America, letting the girl fall onto the floor on her back, hearing the wind knock out of the young girl's lungs. 

Wanda looks at you; betrayal is written all over her face.

"Why are you treating me like I'm the villain?" Wanda whispers, her eyes becoming hot with tears. "You said you loved me. How can you love me and think I hurt people?"

You take a careful step towards her. "Look around, Wanda," you say softly.

"I would never—" But the words fall short on Wanda's lips. "I'm not a monster," is all she can say quietly as she drops to her knees.

"I know you're not," you say softly as you kneel in front of her and cup her face gently. "Just like I know you're not my Wanda."

Wanda immediately looks into your eyes, surprised.

You give her a wry smile. "You think I don't know my own wife? I've known since the first night."

"When—"

"When you asked if I loved you and I let you look into my mind," you give her a sad smile. "My Wanda never takes the opportunity. She is adamant about never looking into my mind and I never offer because of it. She prefers talking honestly, even if it's harder and painful."

Wanda's crying, tears welling and overflowing freely.

"Then why—" Wanda sobs.

"Wanda had her own theories about the multiverse. She was always worried it would happen, but I think every version of her should be loved."

You wiped her tears, but new ones would just fall. "You seemed sad," you tell her truthfully. "Even though I knew it wouldn't be forever by me, I wanted you to know you are loved too."

Wanda's face contorts in pain, lips trembling as she shakes her head. 

"You're not a monster," you tell her again sternly. "You're a person who has done bad things out of grief but that doesn't always make you a bad person."

Wanda feels you kiss her cheek, and it's bitter.

"Do the right thing, Wanda," you encourage her. "It's time to go home."

"Is it home if you're not there?" Wanda tries to refute, and you give her a look.

"Am I dead?"

"...I don't know."

"Then look for me there," you drop your hands and move to hold Wanda's. "That variant of me might be waiting for you too."

It's silent for a moment, and America stands in the background, unsure, with Strange beside her.

"We'll be okay, Wanda," you tell her softly. "We are loved, and you will be too."

Wanda looks at you one last time before releasing the body she's held hostage, and America closes the portal to this universe. 

The scene of the home she's grown used to fades into her lonely throne. It's like a hole has grown in her chest, connecting all the missing parts of her until she's empty. 

America and Strange stand in the distance, unsure what their next move is if they have to continue fighting her. 

"You need to leave," Wanda calmly states.

"What?"

"I opened The Darkhold, and I'm the one who needs to close it so it can never tempt anyone again," Wanda stares at her blackened fingertips. "You need to leave because this place is going to collapse."

As if on cue, the temple began shaking and crumbling. Debris fell from the ceiling, and Strange and America looked at Wanda, who didn't spare them a glance. 

"I'm sorry, Wanda," Strange apologizes, and she knows it's for losing what was never hers in the beginning. With that, he takes America and flies off with her. 

The temple crumbles, and Wanda doesn't move, determined to see its end. Even if you can't witness it, she wants to prove to you that she is a good person. 

Wanda lets out a tiny smile, knowing that you probably believed she already followed through.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

-A Year and 6 months later-

Wanda sips her coffee, breathing in the fresh air. She looks down at her hair and finds it strange to see brown instead of auburn. It's been too long since she's seen the real color of her hair, and she wonders if it looks good. 

The day is bright and sunny, and Wanda revels in how the sun feels on her skin. 

"Would you like another one?"

Wanda looks at the waitress with a smile and shakes her head. She's here every day and usually has two cups leisurely. 

But not today.

"No, thank you," Wanda answers politely and pulls out some cash, giving her usual waitress a generous tip. 

The waitress thanks her and leaves. Wanda stays a second longer, waiting and taking in the view. 

There's a loud car door slamming, and a woman gets out and moves to the sidewalk.

"For the last time," an exasperated voice groans. "It's over! How many times do I have to say it? Stop following me! You can’t just show up here because you know I walk through here every day."

"How can it be over? Everything has been going well for the last year! What changed?"

Wanda watches you groan.

"I don't know! I just don't see a future with you," you tap your foot impatiently. "Now stop following me around, I have shit to do and you're constantly making me late. Just—stop."

You turn to leave, but the woman grabs your arm, and Wanda stands up, pulling her hat closer to her head as she crosses the street. 

Each step feels like she's getting closer to your silhouette, and the thin veil separating the two of you slowly disappears.

Wanda pushes and pushes against the veil until—

"You're hurting her."

The two of you look over to Wanda, and you stare at her for a long moment.

"Stay out of this," the woman glares at Wanda. "It's none of your business."

"It is my business," Wanda says simply. "I'm a good person."

"Are you trying to say I'm not?" The woman snaps.

"Yes, if you keep holding her arm hostage."

The woman immediately drops your arm, and you rub the spot she held, moving away.

"Leave," Wanda glares, and the woman is about to say something else, but the flash of Wanda's red eyes startles her, and she's quick to turn and walk back to her car.

The two of you watch the car drive away, and Wanda turns back to you, and you stare at her curiously.

"Have we met before?" You blink with a tilt of your head.

Wanda smiles. "Maybe in another universe."

You snort. "Smooth," you grin at her. "Thanks for that by the way."

You introduce yourself, and Wanda takes your hand.

Something electric passes through your arm, and you lick your lips.

"I'm Wanda."

You keep holding her hand, pensively looking at the woman before you.

"Can I treat you to a cookie ice cream sandwich as thanks? There's a great place nearby that does the best cookies," you gush.

Wanda nods but grins at you. "Sure, but I can make better ones."

"Really?" You look skeptical. "That's a bold statement."

"I've been told my cookies are the best in the world."

You laugh with a shake of your head as you let go of Wanda's hand and walk with her trailing beside you.

"I'll hold you to that."

i just adore this im sorry🫶

Secret's Out | Draco x Reader

A/N: To be honest, I don't love this, but it's my first time writing Professor Draco, so you're going to have to prepare yourself for better future content. Enjoy! <3

Summary: Your students urge you to tell them the truth about you and Draco's relationship.

Warnings/content: Fem!Reader, Husband!Draco, fluffy, Mom!Reader, Dad!Draco, Pregnant!Reader, Professor!Draco, Professor!Reader

Word count: 1.54k words

THANK YOU TO @divvision FOR THE DIVIDERS! ALL CREDITS GO TO THEM!

"And that's about it for today's class, guys. Make sure you do the reading from pages 200-210 in your Advanced Potion Making textbook. It'll help you for the next class." You said, quickly dismissing your students. You'd hoped they'd leave soon and wouldn't question the ordeal that happened at the beginning of class. But of course, teenagers must speak their minds.

"Professor Y/L/N?" One of your favorite student's hand shot up, which prompted everyone to stop moving and focus on you.

"Yes, Mr. Diggory?" You sighed, immediately knowing what he would ask.

"Um, a-are you and Professor Malfoy..."

"Great co-workers? You bet! Class dismissed." You nodded, pointing at the door sweetly.

You knew this would happen at some point. Draco had come into your classroom to "drop off some papers," but you teaching different subjects made it evident to you that he just wanted your attention.

"Well, hello, Mrs. Malfoy!" Draco said, sneaking up behind you to pull you to his chest.

"Hi, Mr. Malfoy." You relax, letting his arms hoist your body up. Being a professor was exhausting, but you loved it. No matter how many times Draco offered for you to stop working, claiming that his wealth would take care of you and many other generations, you always refused. Besides, it was nice to be with him all the time. The lunches and free periods you spent together were your favorites, and when your son Scorpius had a free period, too, it was all the better.

You thought it would be distracting if people knew you and Draco were dating and always preferred to keep your relationship private, anyways. You didn't go out of your way to convince people Scorpius wasn't your son, though. Instead, you and Draco gave him all the affection and then some behind closed doors. You even snuck him into your room in the castle when he wanted to cuddle at night. Being the Head of House for Slytherin, Draco could essentially pull his son in and out of class whenever Scorpius wanted. Despite him being fifteen, he would always be a mommy's boy and clung to you at all times to prove it.

"Just came to drop off some papers." Draco said snazzily, slapping a stack of papers for his class, Astronomy, down on your desk. "Return it to me by the end of the day, please." He whispered against your lips, tipping your forehead on his, pulling your waist closer to his body.

You laughed at his neediness, pressing a kiss to his lips. "Okay, my love, I will. Now go before one of my students-"

"Professor Y/L/N? Professor Malfoy? What-" Draco immediately pulled out his wand and slammed the door, but it was already too late. You'd been caught. The staff and your close friends knew about your "secret" marriage to Draco, but none of your students were allowed to know.

"Oopsies." Draco cracked a weak smile while you were busy becoming highly anxious for the next class. "Don't worry; you'll figure something out." Draco said, pressing quick kisses on both your cheeks. "I'm sorry, darling, I need to go. My next class started a minute ago." Draco checked his watch, furrowing his brows. He was obviously reluctant to leave. "Your lunch break is after this class, right?" You nodded your head, still nervous. "I'll come to see you, then." He smiled and opened the doors to your classroom. "Well? What are you waiting for? Get on, go inside!" Draco said to the shocked students, who were now looking at him in a way different light than before.

You thought you could escape your students' curiosity, but news traveled fast around Hogwarts. The next day, you'd received three questions in one class about your relationship to the former Slytherin, and you knew they wouldn't stop until they got an answer.

"But Professor Y/L/N!" One student cried out, urging you to spill all on your personal life.

"Look! There! A ring on her finger! That must mean she's married!" Harry Potter's daughter (one of your goddaughters), Lily yelled, pointing at your wedding ring. "Professor Malfoy has rings, too! Although, I'm not quite sure which one would be his wedding ring..." Lily pondered, holding her chin.

"Young lady, this is highly inappropriate." You said, looking at her with a stern look. You and Draco eloped straight out of the war and only told immediate family and adult friends after you'd gotten married. No children knew about your relationship, but it was safe to say you were freaking out about the possibility of it.

"Well, if you don't have the hots for Professor Malfoy, then prove it!" Lily's brother James evilly cracked. You narrowed your eyes at him, knowing you wouldn't be able to get on with your lesson if they didn't receive confirmation.

"Okay." You said defeated. "Rose, go fetch Professor Malfoy for me, please. Tell him I'll watch his class next period as payment for interrupting his class." You enunciated, annoyed at your students' determination to ruin your secret.

The class broke into excited murmurs, and you turned into a nervous wreck, waiting for your husband to return. The chatter died, and everyone was staring at the petite redhead and tall blond standing under the massive doorway.

"You guys, I was in the middle of teaching about Cassandra, my favorite constellation!" You carefully eyed Draco, knowing that's what the baby girl inside you would be named. He only smirked, looking at you for just a second. "What's this about?" He said, stifling a laugh while running a hand through his hair.

"Teach later. This is an intervention." James said poshly before his cousin Rose pinched his arm and whispered something to his ear. "Reckoning - this is a reckoning. We know you guys are together."

"Really? And what makes you say so?" Draco said, stepping over to your elevated platform where you stood. He placed an arm around your waist gently and rested his hand on yours.

"That! Right there!" James pointed, wide-eyed.

"Oh, this?" You said, smirking. "We're just terrific friends." You said, resting a head on Draco's shoulder and smiling.

"Ugh, this is killing me!" Hugo, Rose's brother, exclaimed, banging his head harshly on his desk.

"Mr. Weasley, don't hurt yourself." Draco scolded his godson.

"Prove your love to each other, or we won't do our work." A familiar voice protested from the back of the class. But, of course, you and Draco immediately knew who it was without even having to pinpoint the blond head of hair and piercing gaze: Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. You'd recognize your baby anywhere. He must've been tired of the back and forth, or else he wouldn't have spoken up.

"Fine." You said, glaring at your son, although you weren't actually upset. "Draco, I think it's time we tell the kids." You whispered softly into his ear, ignoring the eager eyes and wide grins on your students' faces.

"I agree, my beautiful wife." Draco said, which pulled dramatic gasps from the rest of your class, apart from Scorpius.

Draco pulled you in for a short but deep kiss, now relieved that the cat was out of the bag, and he could refer to you as his wife to everyone.

"Scorpius!" Lily yelled to the back of the classroom. "Does this mean..."

""Professor Y/L/N" is actually Professor Malfoy and is also my mom?" Scorpius flatly asked. "Yes." Scorpius didn't mind keeping your secret. Because of the number of students that found you attractive, he believed it would be incredibly unsettling if people referred to him as your mom while complimenting you. Still, he loved you and his dad uncommonly. He was excited that people now knew about your relationship with both of them. Until then, people thought that Draco was a single father, never noticing that Scorpius had the same eyes and nose as you.

It was safe to say you lucked out with your son. He was the perfect combination of Draco and you and the most mature fifteen-year-old you knew. He loved when you and Draco told him the story of your love because it was a long one. He cherished the moments where you'd hug and switch between kissing Draco and him. All of this to say, he was the perfect son to you.

"Since when?" Hugo dared to speak. You favored him over all your friends' children simply because of his blatant idiocy at times. It was heart-warming. As for your friends' children, they were in the dark about a lot of things. They often caught you and Draco together, feeding each other at reunions and birthdays, or stealing a forbidden kiss, but they were too young to remember it. You and Draco had been extra careful since then.

"Since I found out I was pregnant with him?" You said, a bit confused at what else you were supposed to answer. Snickers ran across the class at Hugo's tendency to be a male bimbo.

"Speaking of..." Draco said, bringing a hand to your belly and smiling down at you with glistening eyes.

The kids immediately got the hint and erupted into cheers, congratulating Scorpius, who was now smiling widely, excited for his baby sister to arrive.

"What's all the noise about?" Your lifelong friend and now boss, Headmaster Potter, came in, surveying the room for any danger.

"Secret's out." Scorpius told Harry, who was his favorite one of you and Draco's friends.

"Yes!" Harry said, jumping for joy. "Professor Weasley-Potter owes me so many Galleons." Harry said proudly. "Well, everybody, I say we give both Mr. Malfoys and Mrs. Malfoy a proper celebration." Harry said, pointing his wand up into the air, which elicited many excited noises from the kids. The students did the same, and at his command, launched beautiful fireworks into the high ceiling. You called your son up to give him a family hug, and he happily obliged, beaming. The colors reflected brightly on your skin and Scorpius,' and Draco's heart couldn't help but overflow at how lucky he was to have you three.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Third Wheel

Wandnat x Reader

Word Count: 2704

Warnings: Angst w/ happy ending

Requested by:@tightrope-mindsets

Summary: Wanda and Natasha are in a relationship that everyone knows about. However no one knows that you are also in that relationship. You were fine not being in the public eye, but overtime it starts to get to you. Everything comes to heads at one of Tony's New Year's Eve parties.

An: I may have tweaked the idea a little but I hope you still like it.

Masterlist

Wanda and Natasha loved each other. It was common knowledge to everyone around them. The two women almost drowned each other in affection every chance they got.

They were always touching each other. Physical touch was their primary love language. Always kissing, always holding one another, always attached at the hip.

It was adorable, as no one else seemed to bring out that side of the women. At least to the public's knowledge, that is.

There was another member of their relationship not known to anyone. Y/n L/n, one of Tony Stark's many assistants.

Both women took an immediate interest in Y/n the first time they laid their eyes on her. From that day moving forward they would always flirt with the girl. They had taken pride in being able to make a blush cross her face.

Soon the flirting transpired into a few dates, and before she knew it they had asked Y/n to join the relationship. The woman was hesitant at first, afraid of what the public would think.

Natasha and Wanda assured the woman that they didn't have to tell the public about their relationship. They knew that if the press caught wind of the relationship, that Y/n could be put in danger, so keeping it a secret was the smartest thing to do.

While the sneaking around was fun in the beginning, it began to take a toll on Y/n. Watching Natasha and Wanda be affectionate with each other in public and not being a part of it was sparking an insecurity inside of Y/n.

The insecurity used to go away the instant that the two heroes got her alone. They'd shower her in that same affection; holding her hand, kissing her forehead, playing with her hair. It was all fine when it was just the three of them.

Lately things have been different. The insecurity doesn't disappear anymore. Now, Y/n questions if these moments they have are real. She feels like they don't love her like they love each other, and it's eating her alive.

It, to the point where every touch makes her feel dirty. As if she is just there to add excitement to an already beautiful relationship. Y/n feels like a randomly selected third, rather than a girlfriend.

She didn't voice this to the women, scared of losing them, despite her feelings. She was waiting for the moment that they noticed what she felt or even the moment where they got tired of hiding, but it never seemed to come.

Tony's New Year's Eve party was the perfect moment to change that. Natasha and Wanda had left earlier, while Y/n stayed behind. Y/n wanted to look so good that they couldn't possibly resist her.

Her natural hair pattern abandoned for the night as she curled her hair. Her face which was usually bare of makeup was fully coated. She had splurged on diamond accessories for this occasion. The outfit she settled on was an elaborate jumpsuit. Between the almost sheer material and plunging neckline, she would gather a lot of attention.

Hopefully, some of that attention would be by the women she was so desperately in love with.

Part of her was self-conscious about the way she looked. It was definitely a little out of her comfort zone. Before leaving for Tony's she gave her a once over in the mirror.

She almost took her own breath away. The woman in the mirror was almost foreign to her. A small smile formed on her face," Well, don't we clean up nice."

With a nod of approval from herself, she was on the way to Tony's.

When Y/n she wasn't surprised to see an abundance of strangers with a few familiar faces scattered here and there. This was of course a Tony Stark party.

" Hello there, beautiful maiden. Don't be alarmed by my good looks and intoxicating voice, it is just I, the one and only Thor Odinson. Have you heard of me?"

Y/n laughed out loud as she turned to fully face the god of thunder," Is that how you pick up women?"

Thor furrows his brow before finally recognizing her," Y/n? I did not recognize you. You look amazing."

She smiles sweetly as she observes a bashful blush appear on Thor's cheeks," Thank you, Thor."

He scratches the back of his neck," Well since I have thoroughly embarrassed myself I will take my leave. I hope to see you around sometime, Y/n."

Now Y/n was certain she could get the attention of her girlfriends. If the first person to flirt with her at the party was a literal god, then she should have no problem getting Natasha and Wanda's attention.

Parties in general weren't really her thing, so Y/n made a beeline to the bar. What she didn't notice was how the crowd of people were making a way for her.

Once they got a glimpse, they couldn't stop staring. So as the woman took a seat at the bar it was as if a line of suitors appeared out of nowhere, all waiting to talk to her.

Y/n was attracting so much attention that Tony came over to see what the fuss was about. He took a seat next to you at the bar.

" Well, you seem to be stealing the show tonight."

Y/n rolled her eyes, thinking this was another man that she would have to turn down. When she saw her boss, she let out a sigh of relief," Hi Mr. Stark."

Even Tony himself seemed taken aback for a moment," Y/n? Holy shit, you look amazing."

" Thanks Mr. Stark"

He looks at the crowd and then at his assistant," If you want, I could move you to a more secluded area, so they won't bother you. It's maybe about 50 people, which is way better than the hundreds down here."

Y/n nodded her head and eagerly took Tony's hand. He led her to a rooftop area that was still filled with people by way less than downstairs.

It was there that she was finally able to spot Wanda and Natasha. They were laughing at some joke Clint was telling. Natasha's hand was resting on Wanda's lower back as laughter shook their body.

" Better?"

" Much better, thank you, Mr.Stark."

He speaks up as he walks away from you," It's just Tony, Y/n. Make sure you enjoy yourself."

Y/n gives him a lazy salute before making her way to a less crowded bar once again. She orders a drink to sip on as she watches her girlfriends have the night of their life.

" Mind if I sit," Y/n looks to the right to see a beautiful blonde woman standing next to her.

" Go ahead."

The blonde orders a whiskey on the rocks before turning attention back to Y/n.

" This may be really forward of me, but can I just say that you look breathtakingly beautiful."

Y/n faces the woman," I've never heard that sentiment shared as many times as I've had tonight. It's starting to inflate my ego."

" A woman like you should have a big ego. I'm Carol, by the way."

Y/n's eyes go wide," Carol Danvers? As in Captain Marvel."

She chuckles," In the flesh. What about your name, beautiful?"

" Y/n, and it sucks to have to say this to you of all people, but I am in a relationship."

Carol gives a small smile, " There was only a slim chance that someone look like you would not be single. Can I ask you something Y/n?"

The assistant gives Carol a nod, waiting for the question.

" If you aren't single, then who is the asshole that's got you looking so lonely tonight?"

The woman takes a sip of her drink before sighing," It's a little complicated."

" I've got time."

Y/n found herself telling Carol everything. Maybe it was alcohol or maybe the genuine interest that Carol showed in her, but it all came spilling out of her mouth.

When she looked over to Wanda and Natasha this time, they were swaying together on the dance floor. They looked like the perfect couple.

" It sounds to me like they aren't treating you the way you deserve to be treated."

" They haven't even looked at me all night," Y/n's shoulder slump.

" What if we made them look?" Carol stands from her seat abruptly, extending her hand.

" I feel like you just want to dance with me?"

Carol shrugs her shoulders," Maybe I do, but I understand boundaries."

Y/n takes her hand and Carol guides her to the dance floor. That's when she felt eyes on them.

" Is it me or does it feel like everyone is looking at us?"

Carol leans down to whisper in her ear," That's because they are, and I do mean everyone."

Carol and Y/n sway to the song. Neither of them are musically inclined, but they're having fun. As the song comes to an end, Carol spins Y/n out and then back in. When Y/n ends up with her back against Carol's front, a blush appears on her face. It was impossible to ignore Carol's strong arms around her waist.

A laugh escapes the both of them as Carol lets the girl go.

Before either of them speak, they are approached by Wanda and Natasha.

" Carol, Y/n it's nice to see you both," it's then that Wanda lets her eyes rake over Y/n's body.

" You look amazing, Y/n," Natasha licks her bottom lip.

" Thanks," Y/n says with her eyes glued to the floor.

As they fall into easy conversation with Carol, their hands link together. Y/n's gaze focuses on their hands, and she is instantly brought back to reality.

" Um, I'm going to go to the restroom. Thank you for the dance, Carol. Hopefully we'll see each other again," Y/n gave her a polite smile before heading to the restroom.

While on the outside, she looked normal. The woman felt nauseous. As soon as she was in the bathroom, she ran into a stall. The drink along with the other contents of your stomach were being violently excommunicated from your body.

Y/n didn't see who it was, but someone else entered the stall and held your hair back. They were also rubbing soothing circles around her back.

" Oh, you poor thing. You're going to be ok, sweetheart."

When there was nothing left to throw up, Y/n removed her face from the toilet.

" How are you feeling?"

When Y/n finally glanced at the woman helping her, she felt some relief.

" I feel like shit to be honest, Pepper," Y/n says, while her head rests on the wall of the stall.

" I almost didn't recognize you, Y/n. I can take you home if you aren't feeling well," concern was splayed all over the woman's face.

" I'm fine, Pepper, but thanks."

Y/n stands on wobbly legs, almost falling over in the process. Pepper holds onto the woman, steadying her. She gives Y/n a pointed look.

" I just want to see the ball drop, Pep, please."

Pepper reluctantly nods," Fine, but after the ball drops I'm taking you home."

Y/n rinses her mouth before leaving the restroom with Pepper in tow. The blonde offers Y/n a mint, which she gratefully accepts.

As the final countdown begins, Y/n looks at Pepper," You aren't going to find Tony?"

" He always finds me at the last second. It's kind of our thing."

Everyone is counting down the final 5 seconds. Y/n spots Wanda and Natasha staring into each other's eyes. She can see them whisper their 'I love yous'. When the countdown reaches 1 they're already kissing. Holding each other like they're the only people that exist.

With a glance to her side, Y/n can see Tony in his suit fly up in the air with Pepper. He kisses her right there. Even the playboy billionaire shows off his one and only girl to a room full of strangers.

It's in that moment that Y/n feels her heart collapse into itself. A single tear slid down her face and she wiped at it ferociously.

When the cheering is over and Tony sits Pepper back down, Y/n asks the blonde to take her home. Without hesitation, Pepper obliged.

The woman offered to walk Y/n in, but she says she'll be ok. Pepper waits for Y/n to get in the house before driving back to the party.

The funny thing was, that Y/n didn't even really stay at this place anymore. She lived with Natasha and Wanda for the most part, but it would be weird to ask Pepper to take her there. Luckily, Y/n kept her place just in case, but it had been months since she actively lived there.

Maybe this was a sign.

The woman peeled herself out of the jumpsuit, took off all her accessories, and wiped the makeup from her face. She stared at herself in the mirror, this time a smile nowhere to be found.

She took a shower and then got into her bed. She curled into herself and finally let herself cry.

Y/n had no idea when she fell asleep or what time it was when she heard a banging on her door, accompanied by the sound of the bell ringing.

She pulled herself out of bed and trudged towards the door. When she opened the door, Natasha and Wanda stood on her porch.

" We've been looking everywhere for you, baby," Natasha reaches for her, but Y/n flinches.

The woman walks back to her room, leaving Wanda and Nat on the porch. The pair share a glance at each other before entering the house.

"What's wrong malyshka?"

Wanda sits at the edge of the bed, giving Y/n space. Natasha stood behind her.

" I- I don't think I can do this anymore," Y/n's voice was barely above a whisper.

" What do you mean?" Natasha tries to catch Y/n's eyes, but the girl avoids her gaze.

" I feel like a third wheel in my own relationship. You two get to parade each other around and I get to watch from the sideline. You get to hold hands, kiss each other, dance together without a care in the world. It's hard to watch, knowing that I don't get to do that."

Natasha speaks first," Y/n, we want to do all of those things with you. I'm sorry if our actions have said anything different."

Wanda adds," We love you. We want to be with you and if you're ready to take it public we are too."

" Really?"

Natasha nods," Yes, I never want you to feel like that again. We are proud to be your girlfriend's, and we don't care who knows."

Wanda grabs one of Y/n's hands," Please give us another chance, malyshka."

Y/n can't help herself as she surges forward to meet Wanda's lips in a sweet kiss. Wanda holds her close, not wanting to let the girl go.

It's not until Natasha sits on Y/n's other side and pulls the girl out of witches arms into her own, that Wanda releases her.

Natasha slams her lips against Y/n's who instantly moans at the contact. Natasha chuckles into the kiss, and then bites the woman's lip, before breaking the kiss.

" I can't wait until the world knows that you're ours," Wanda wraps her arms around your waist from behind, making you lay on the bed.

Natasha wraps her arms around your front side, so you're sandwiched between the two women.

It wasn't long before you fell asleep. When you did, Wanda snapped a picture of the three of you in bed. She posted it on every form of social media she had, with the caption simply being 'my loves'.

Everyone knew, and they'd all have their opinions, but that didn't matter to either of the heroes. They only cared about making sure that Y/n never felt left out again.

Taglist: @padmeswife