Tumgik
#he tells it as someone who lived it through and talks of what became of his friends
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the scent wafts in, her name making him beg on his knees chap 1.2
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pairing: dabi / todoroki touya x fem!oc / reader (MODERN AU)
summary: He mentions her name after 6 months in therapy, absentmindedly narrating vivid memories of her. She was the only good thing during his darkest times.
(In which Touya returns home after rebelling against his family for 7 years. And no, it wasn't about forgiveness. He wanted to fix himself because of a certain someone.)
themes: nsfw, domestic abuse, violence, alcoholism, cigarette smoking, toxic relationships, mental health, co-dependency and other related themes (YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED)
notes: for this one, pls keep in mind that touya didn't have much scars on his face; mostly are on his body to accomodate the plot; charas might be ooc since this is modern au
It was after 4 days that he finally revealed about the Todoroki family, the scandalous story of Enji Todoroki, and the abuse they have endured in his hands based on what he had experienced until 19. To be honest, everything wasn't really how they started. Touya grew up seeing Enji so proud of him, prancing him around as his firstborn, the one who will continue his dream of being the number one corporation in Japan with the best workforce and highest earning. Touya was actually more excited to learn more about business at a young age, studying how money worked through stock exchange games and trying to beat his father through crossword puzzles.
Then the next year, Fuyumi was born, and they were almost the same age, separated by months. One could even say she became his twin, and they shared the same room, the same bed, the same food, the same unisex clothes, the same words—just not the appearance and gender. When it was just the two of them, they somewhat understood each other even if Fuyumi sometimes find him annoying because of his silly pranks.
As he tells this to his therapist, he realizes a shocking truth.
Their family was okay back then. There were a lot of good times, and he had a hunch Fuyumi was the one who remembered most of them when it was supposed to be him, the oldest of the bunch. That's why it was a lot easy for her to forgive him. That's why she hoped so much for him to come back.
His favorite memory was of Fuyumi asking him to create a large drawing of the four of them because she wanted to give something to them. She was holding the same blue flowers their mother liked, and after everything was done, the two siblings met their parents at the living area where they were having tea. Enji ruffled Fuyumi's hair and told her to wash her hands after, noticing the dirt around her hands and in her fingernails. Meanwhile, Rei giggled melodiously, her laughter making Touya embarrassed as she patted his head. They were all happy. Everyone was happy.
When did everything go wrong?
"I think it was when... when Father found me pushing myself so hard because I was so devastated at my achievements that he had enough of me," Touya continued. "Whenever things won't go my way, I tend to neglect my body's capabilities. I stay up all night. I don't eat until I get the equation right. There were times when at a young age, I ripped my hair so bad due to stress. They manifested so bad that I resorted to violence."
A child who throws a violent tantrum. Torn apart posters of comic characters. Ruined picture frames and shattered glasses. Fearful eyes halting in time and unable to stop him from overworking himself. Scattered test papers with scores of 99, 98, 97, and 96 flooded all over like a burning reminder.
"I should've listened to Mother and Fuyumi-chan when they told me to have fun instead."
------
After two weeks, the therapist had the guts to ask him about Natsuo and Shouto. He used to evade questions about his two brothers, usually opting for silence or quickly dismissing the man with answers like, "I don't want to talk about them," or "It's not good." The therapist thought maybe Touya would never be able to discuss things about them, but he knew he had to bring them to the table. After all, the eldest Todoroki had mentioned before that seeing them born had been the small flicker of fire that burned their family down.
"Father thinks me and Fuyumi-chan were failures; it doesn't mean Natsu-kun wasn't either," Touya started, remembering the infant Natsuo and his cries ringing around the Todoroki household. Of course, disappointment was etched again in Enji's face, realizing that Natsuo did not live up to his expectations.
Touya could hear his familiar sigh in head, the way he was stoic but Natsuo was trying his hardest to please him. It broke Touya's heart, the way he could only watch his two siblings casted aside like him, thrown away like a garbage because their potential were wasted. In Enji's eyes, they weren't his children; they were experiments with his wife.
"His masterpiece was my younger brother, Shouto," he concluded.
"Do you hate Shouto?" the therapist asked.
Touya could only shrug, not clearly having a definition of what he felt towards his youngest brother. True, he felt so many things about his brother. He was the bane of his existence, after all. He despised him the day he was born, and yet he felt guilty the moment baby Shouto wrapped his stubby hand around his long finger, cooing at the warmth as he opened his heterochromatic eyes and gazed at him cutely. That day, Touya instantly felt a responsibility as his oldest brother, but at the same time, there was bitterness. He knew the youngest would be Enji's favorite; he just knew it, with the way he watched him all this time while he thinks he's not aware.
It will never be Shouto's fault that they weren't the favorites; but blaming him was so easy Touya could get away with it.
Shouto was unyielding, though; confused as to why Touya didn't like him but still trying his bestest to get along with him. He would trail behind him, meekly asking him to play with him, to ask their father if he could play with them for a bit because he wanted to be like the other kids and play. "You should be grateful he's spending time with you," Touya snarked at him, not speaking the next words. Because he wouldn't do that with us; with me. Of course, Shouto was so pure-hearted he just replied him with, "But being with Touya-nii and the others is a lot better. You all get to play other than study."
But studying and being the best was the only thing that kept Touya driving; it would be his downfall, though. Enji found out what he did to himself, knew from his teachers about his wellbeing. Touya goes to school with deep eyebags. Touya gets sulky about his grades. He snaps at the other kids at school. He almost got into a fight with another classmate for trying to cheer him up with his grades. And the next thing, Touya will be dragged to the hallway and Enji would not hesitate to slap sense in his face, disappointment and anger in his face as he beat Touya up for bringing shame to the family, for acting all so childish over some silly grades.
This was his usual routine. His parents would fight. His siblings will help him up to his feet. Fuyumi-chan will take the first aid kit and tend to his bruises. Natsuo-kun will try to shield Shouto away from the scene even though the youngest was already crying his eyes out, not wanting to see him hurt so bad. Don't cry for me, Shouto. Don't be that way with me. I hate you. I hate you the most. Please, don't be like that.
Afterwards, he would play the good son card, would keep his bursting feelings in check, watch over everything he would say and play right in Enji's palm. He needed his approval again, even if the attention was all showered on Shouto. It was damn frustrating, suffocating him the more he watched Shouto endure the beatings as he treated the three of them like nothing. At that moment, Touya wanted nothing to do with Shouto. If he did, he might unleash all these intrusive thoughts.
Fate was a trickster, and Touya would always find Shouto pleading for help, especially to him of all people. "Touya-nii, save me! Please!" It kept repeating like a broken record, haunting him in his dreams. The wet streaks. The runny nose. His tight fisting on his shirt. The way he would hiss his name. The eyes that cried so many times. Touya will never give in; a lie he told so many times.
Touya did give in, and without much thought. Shouto brought back those feelings he wanted; how it felt so happy that someone needed so much from him. He liked it. He felt appreciated. He felt blessed. He felt so free Shouto had no idea how much Touya wanted this for so long. That's why Touya tutored Shouto in secret, teaching him a thing or two about business, about stock exchange, about the Todoroki family, about the Endeavor Corp.—heck, he even laid down the basics of algebra and science on him, ensuring Shouto would be able to comprehend everything at the age of 5 and 6. It wasn't the same as when Enji acknowledged him, but for Touya, this was enough.
Enji knew about it, of course, and he didn't mind... at first. After all, he thought Touya was just helping his brother learn, keeping his mouth shut as he let them be. This aggravated Touya, pushing him slightly to the edge.
"The least he could do was acknowledge me," Touya stated bitterly to his therapist, remembering how Enji praised Shouto's performance instead of telling him how good of an older brother he was.
"So you used Shouto's kindness, is that it?" the therapist clarified.
Touya nodded. "But sometimes, I pity him. I felt those things only an older brother would feel."
There was a palpable tension as Touya gripped his knees to even out his breathing. The memories were getting more vivid than ever he swore it happened yesterday? Or the other day? But he was a lot younger back then. He was 14 when it happened, and he felt his bruises and scars getting more painful, his skin shivering from a certain coldness. Maybe it was Enji's eyes on him. The same eye color he and Shouto shared. He didn't know. He didn't care.
"Sekoto Peak," he mumbled in a trance, flashes of memories where Shouto held his hand and gazed at the view below him.
"Touya-nii, this is where you go often? It's so cool here!"
"Sometimes, I sleep here under the stars."
"R-Really? Do you bring Fuyumi-nee and Natsu-nii here?"
"I haven't."
"Let's go here, the four of us."
"..."
"Please?"
"I'll see what I can do."
"I couldn't bring them all," Touya admitted, gripping his head to force himself to remember. The therapist recorded his responses through his notes as he muttered everything in a fast pace. "I tried to make a plan. I brought Shouto there a few times without anyone knowing. I asked Natsuo and Fuyumi for help. Before we could all go, Father found out. I couldn't speak. I couldn't fight. I was hit by the bokken. They were all crying. Mother tried to protect me but Father slapped her. I could feel his kick and punch in my gut."
"... did he—"
"No. NO. HE WASN'T DONE!" Touya gulped nervously, imagining the scars on his body burning. "They were hot on my skin. It burned my flesh. I couldn't move. I cried and cried and cried. I begged for him to stop. I want him to stop. The hot iron. Everything. I want the world to stop. I couldn't become the son he wanted. I couldn't be Shouto's big brother. I couldn't give them everything."
And when he ended the story, that was when Touya finally cried, sobbing as fuck. He couldn't care about the world or the pitiful gazes. The boy cried so much from bearing all the sins he didn't do.
------
Touya spent a few months in isolation, his thoughts circling around his childhood and all the painful memories. When he was alone, he would write them all down, narrating that one moment in his and Natsuo's shared bedroom where Shouto secretly snuck in and apologized over and over. He kept blaming himself for Touya's pain. Everything was his fault that Touya was hurt so bad, and Touya wanted to agree. It was true, though. He hurt when he was born. He hurt when he got all the glory. He hurt when he became Enji's pride.
He just went silent about it.
Why did he?
It was never Shouto's fault.
"Shouto," he whispered, his hand reaching out to ruffle his hair despite the searing pain in his arms. There was a weak smile gracing his lips, bruised and battered yet patched up clumsily by a crying Fuyumi. "As I thought, I couldn't be your good older brother. Not anymore."
(Touya never knew but after a few years following his rebellion, Shouto went to Sekoto Peak and stared at the same view Touya admired so much, slept under the stars when everything became too much, and wished the four of them could be there together.)
ps. I removed the last part and placed it on the next chap in case y'all confused bcos the post is too long to read
next chap
masterlist
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no-light-left-on · 5 months
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every dishonored game (with the exception of DotO) ends with the Outsider narrating what came after, when the story came to a close, and it does give the game the quality of one - a story recounted to you, in detail, by a master storyteller that explains what came after, what fate the characters you grew to love in the tale met, before it all fades to nothing. and it conjures ideas of human Outsider relaying strange stories like this to others, those of the plague and of the coup, tales of the Knife of Dunwall, or the tales of the witch-Empress before she became an Empress at all. maybe even presents the idea of the third game being, at the end of it all, a retelling of what human Outsider lived through, but now he is a little older, a little less otherworldly.
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wndaswife · 10 days
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girl next door | wanda maximoff & fem!reader
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Wanda attempts to become closer with the young woman who moved in beside her while balancing her work and personal life, though she’s doubtful of the possibility that you might be interested in her at all.
Word count: 23 310
Tags | MDNI: smut, fluff, shy idiots flirting, wanda is a cutie and kind of a pervert, specified age-gap, masturbation, fingering, cunnilingus, dildo usage, praise, wanda doesn’t know what mommy kink is yet but you can tell she’d be into it, milf!wanda maximoff, lesbian reader
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Checking her rear mirror before signalling left and merging into the adjacent lane, Wanda drove around the moving truck parked outside of one of the townhouse buildings she lived beside. Beside her detached house was a townhouse owned and put up for rent for temporary long-stay renters, and often, around the beginning of the summer or the start of September, Wanda would often see professionals working in Jersey City moving in.
It was the start of the summer now, and there were presently movers helping to carry small pieces of furniture through the open townhouse doors. It was furnished inside, Wanda assumed, though the furniture they were bringing in seemed to be building up to some sort of office — perhaps there was an extra empty room in there for renters, and whoever was moving in was setting up a workspace.
Wanda nearly missed her driveway while she was scrutinising everything the movers were bringing in, trying to pin down whoever it was that was renting. When Wanda stepped out and shut the car door, she could see a young woman from above the roof of her car stepping out of the townhouse’s front door, talking with the movers and letting them know where to place the furniture.
Just when it seemed that the young woman’s gaze shifted over to Wanda, who was, admittedly, staring a bit too hard, Wanda’s phone buzzed with an incoming phone call and she quickly broke eye contact to pick it up. She locked her car and walked up to her front door, carrying a stack of paperwork of upcoming orders that she needed to sort through.
She thought of you again while making dinner, curious about you for some reason she didn’t quite understand. She wondered if you were just a younger relative helping the actual renter move in, or if someone who looked as young as you had really moved into Westview by herself just beside her. 
From the kitchen island counter where she was standing eating her dinner, Wanda looked through the living room window where she could watch you continue to unpack a few small things from the back of your trunk. She regarded you curiously; perhaps it was your age or the fact that you seemed to have moved in alone that seemed to be interesting to her, though Wanda wasn’t sure why any of that would necessarily pique her interest as she felt like it had.
In the morning, Wanda prepared for the twins’ arrival in the afternoon when she’d have to pick them up after work, waking up with enough time to clean. 
Vision, Wanda’s ex-husband, worked as an attorney in New Jersey and often stayed in New York, but when it was his turn with the twins, he stayed in New Jersey — much closer to Westview.
Wanda had always counted herself as lucky for having been married to and having children with a good man. Though she and Vision were necessarily divorced, she never had to worry about what would become of their connection, and she knew that their relationship wouldn’t regress into something difficult between the both of them nor with their children.
However it became rather clear as their relationship progressed, especially after they had children, that the directions of their ambitions and perspectives of their lives were diverting from each other; nothing about them aligned except for their children. 
Vision was Wanda’s neighbour when she first moved into her apartment once arriving in America alone. He was smart and very kind and showed her around. He was a westernised Brit, which was palatable for Wanda who found security with a man who knew so much about the country she had just moved to, but who also wasn’t overbearing, and was rather well-mannered and docile. 
When they first met, Vision was finishing his second last year of law school, and Wanda didn’t have much going on for herself until she made plans to open a business. It all went quite fast after they married; Vision passed his bar and Wanda’s floral shop had begun to find its footing, and they decided to finally have a family. 
But Vision’s career and dreams took him further than what Westview could offer, and Wanda wasn’t the same young woman with wide-eyes and unsteady footing like she was when they met — she had dreams too, and children. 
By the time the twins turned two, it wasn’t difficult to figure out that things were different. Their dynamic had changed, they weren’t of the same mind as they used to be, and Vision could tell that Wanda had changed too; she hadn’t intended to be distant, but it always felt like her life took place somewhere her husband couldn’t reach. She was changing and growing, and she didn’t need a crutch to lean on anymore.
She wasn’t as unsteady and lost as she used to be. 
By the time she was leaving the house, it should’ve been around the time that Vision was dropping the twins off, but instead, she opened the door to see them running up the porch stairs. 
Surprised at the way they rushed passed her, both giving her a quick hello before they ran up the stairs, Wanda stuttered, “What–” 
“They forgot their class projects,” Vision explained with an awkward smile, stepping onto the porch and watching Tommy and Billy dash into their rooms. 
“The Bristol boards?”
He nodded.
“Did they behave?” she asked, holding her purse with both hands in front of her. 
“Of course,” her ex-husband answered with a smile. “We went to the cinema on Friday. Tommy cried during the final scene and Billy was quite supportive.”
Wanda and Vision shared a laugh, and chatted about how it was going with the new firm he was with and about Wanda’s shop, until the twins came back down holding their school projects. 
“Good luck on your presentations today,” Wanda told them and leaned down, holding each of their faces delicately and kissing each of their foreheads. 
“Thank you, mama,” Billy replied cheerily and gave her the best hug he could with his other arm full of Bristol board. 
Vision and Wanda spoke a little more about when he would pick them up this weekend for their grandfather’s birthday, which Wanda couldn’t attend because she had promised to help set up a town event celebrating the start of the new season. 
Westview was a popular destination during the Spring for it was located in a relatively secluded area of New Jersey, and well-known for its nature reserves, which also meant Westview well-decorated for the season. 
That also meant Wanda and her floral shop were always hard at work throughout the start of Spring. 
From the corner of her eye, Wanda saw your car pull into the driveway, and for a moment she saw you briefly running your eyes over her and Vision and the twins in the car. 
Throughout the day, Wanda thought of you for the same reason as she did last night, and with the same degree of inexplicability. While she signed and read through paperwork for orders and put together arrangements alongside her employees, she thought of how long you might be renting and where you’d come from. She thought of the kind of flowers you might like; she tried her best to recall the furniture and items you’d brought in yesterday to try and pin down your style. 
Once she realised how much she’d been thinking of you and realising it was strange that she kept acting as if she hadn’t been thinking of you, Wanda decided to put together a bouquet for you as a welcome gift. 
After she picked the twins up from school, she was sure to keep the bouquet in its vase secured in the passenger’s seat, checking on it occasionally as she spoke with the boys about how their days and presentations went. 
“Go put your things away,” Wanda told them as she ushered them through the front door, “I’ll come to help you with your homework in just a minute.” She locked the front door and headed back to her car, reaching into the passenger’s seat for the bouquet. 
Your car was in the driveway, and she could see some movement through the window beside the dining room. 
For the first time since she even thought to put the bouquet together, Wanda wondered if she was coming off too strong, or even too strange. After all, why would the older woman neighbouring you introduce herself with a bouquet of flowers?
Wanda could justify herself to you; she owned a floral shop and was working all day and didn’t have time to give you anything else and she always made a point to be friendly to neighbours. 
Before she could even justify herself to herself, she was already knocking on your front door holding the vase securely with two hands. She heard some rustling beyond the door, and a few chaotic tumbles, before the front door opened and Wanda got a good look at you for the first time. 
You were young — a college student, she presumed — and pretty. 
Wanda felt her words catch in her throat and she internally panicked trying to get some form of an introduction out. She hadn’t known what she had expected from you when she knocked on your door or what unsuspecting part of her curiosity was taken aback by your appearance, but Wanda forced out an introduction as normal-seeming as she could.
“Hi,” she said with a friendly smile, “I’m Wanda Maximoff, your next-door neighbour.”
Panicked and deciding that her initial introduction wasn’t enough, she added, “I thought I should introduce myself.”
She couldn’t seem to stop rambling. “A-And I work at a floral shop in the shopping district, hence the flowers,” she explained then held the vase out to you.
You seemed genuinely happy and appreciative when you replied, “Oh, that’s so nice of you! Thank you so much.” Wanda was grateful when you took the bouquet from her and didn’t look like you thought the gesture was strange.
“I was hoping I might be able to meet some people from the neighbourhood soon and maybe explore Westview a little,” you told her, “but I’ve just been so busy unpacking — so thank you, really.”
“I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you,” you introduced yourself. “I saw you this morning and thought to say hello today too, but I think I’ve just been so overwhelmed with the move.”
Wanda thought you were sweet and rather cute. She attributed it to the fact that you stood out from the other people of Westview who were older and a bit less spry. “It’s normal to be a bit overwhelmed once first moving into a new place,” she told you supportively. “I’m sure you’ll adjust in no time; Westview is easy to get comfortable in.”
“Thank you,” you answered graciously. “I’m happy to finally be able to talk to someone here.”
You were trusting and talkative too, Wanda noted.
“I would be happy to show you around whenever you have some free time,” Wanda found herself offering quicker than she could think through what she was saying. She added, trying to save her first impression, “Only if you don’t mind — I assume you’re a student and rather busy.”
“I would really love to have a tour!” you answered enthusiastically. “Thank you so much. I feel adjusted to Westview already.”
Wanda felt herself flush, feeling appreciated and flattered by your words.
“Would it be okay if we exchanged numbers?” you asked. “I can let you know when I’m free next! I should be sometime at the end of the week; I don’t start my work until next week.”
“O-Of course, that’s completely okay,” Wanda said with a wide neighbourly smile, stuttering slightly for a reason she couldn’t exactly explain to herself. It was normal to exchange numbers with acquaintances, but the idea of you asking for her number made her feel excited.
You kept taking her by surprise, though she wasn’t sure why.
For the rest of the night, Wanda tended to the twins — helping them with their homework, making them dinner, and playing Minecraft with them before bed.
They said she was bad at it, but they always asked for her to play with them.
As she got ready in her washroom after putting the boys to bed, Wanda picked up her phone at the sound of a text and found a message from you: Hi Ms Maximoff, it’s Y/N! Thanks again for the flowers, they’re beautiful.
The way in which you addressed her was all too formal, but there was something about how polite and proper it was that she enjoyed, even if it made her feel a little old. 
While Wanda found herself smiling at her phone and thinking up a way to reply, you texted again: You mentioned you worked at a floral shop in town. Where is it located?
Eventually, you spoke to her about what you were studying and what you were in Westview for and for how long. She talked about Tommy and Billy and their father and when she opened her business. You and Wanda continued to text you back and forth until she realised she had stayed up about thirty minutes past when she planned to sleep, and she had to tell you goodnight. 
Wanda couldn’t remember the last time someone seemed so genuinely interested in her life and interested in sharing things about themselves with her. It made her feel interesting and paid attention to. 
In the morning immediately after dropping the twins off and saying goodbye to them, her thoughts went to you and the conversation you shared together last night. 
You had just graduated and were now doing research with a professor, and you wanted to explore some research before beginning your Master’s. Since your professor’s research institute was located closer to Westview than northern New Jersey, you decided to move to Westview for the duration of your six-month research period.
Around the beginning of the day Wanda thought of you the most, wondering particularly about when she might see you again and when you might be free, until the afternoon rolled around when her scheduled employees came in and she started picking up the pace with her orders and arrangements.
It wasn’t a large shop, so there were typically four people working there at a time. One dealt with walk-in orders and those who wanted to purchase anything on display in the front, another with shipments and administrative work, and two that helped with preparing and putting together the arrangements. 
Wanda oversaw and managed all of it along with Agatha, who she’d opened the shop with, so she worked each day aside from Fridays and Saturdays — unless she needed to be at work — and Sundays when the shop was closed.
Spring was busy for them, but Westview was a rather small town and their shop was also local and a bit smaller. However, it was from Wanda’s shop that businesses and sometimes the town ordered intricate arrangements for events or for statement display pieces.
But by the late afternoon, the shop had a visitor that Wanda hadn’t expected.
“Y/N,” Wanda uttered at the sight of you walking into the shop, looking around at the vases and flowers and succulents on display.
“Hi,” you greeted with a smile once you walked up to the cash register. 
Wanda’s smile widened and she felt herself excited and unsteady at the thought that you might have come into the shop purposely just to visit her — but she couldn’t jump to conclusions. “Are you looking for another bouquet?” she teased.
You laughed and Wanda felt her chest flutter.
“No, not yet,” you answered. “I just thought I would return the welcome favour with a gift.”
You laid a cup of tea and a pastry on the counter between the both of you and Wanda found herself speechless by your gesture — you had come just to visit her after she told you where she worked, and you had brought a gift for her too.
“I finally got the chance to walk around today, and I thought to visit the shopping district first and stopped by the café down the street to get something for you. I hope you’re okay with Oolong.”
“Y/N…” Wanda didn’t know what to say, her hands laying themselves by the tea and pastry but not having enough confidence to take them. “You really didn’t have to — and to have come all the way over here!”
You laid your hand atop of Wanda’s and she felt her cheeks flush, her eyes flickering down to your soft hand for a brief moment before looking back up at your soft expression. “But I wanted to,” you told her, then retracted your hand. “I really am grateful and I hoped to be able to make my own impression if not pay you back for the gift.”
Wanda felt so warm and she finally gave in, taking the tea and pastry and moving it closer to her and beside the cash register. “Thank you so much, that’s very kind,” she said.
To have someone think of her so much, to go out of their way during their first day free from unpacking to visit her and make such a thoughtful gesture instilled in Wanda a feeling she hadn’t felt in a very long time — or ever, if she really thought about it.
She felt so cared for, and seen.
“Have you been liking the town so far?” she asked.
You nodded. “Westview is really beautiful, and I’m happy to have chosen to move here,” you answered.
“But you seem busy,” you said, looking around at the employees walking behind her with papers or assortments of flowers in their hands. “Hopefully we’re both free soon so you can show me around your favourite spots.”
“I’m really looking forward to that,” Wanda replied with an eager smile. 
Over the next while, Wanda’s free time completely diminished and she struggled to find any time to see you like she’d promised or even talking with you in-person or over the phone. 
You sometimes see her coming back late, sometimes looking fatigued or just in a rush to finally get home, so you didn’t want to push by messaging or visiting her, intruding where you shouldn’t as a neighbour and a new friend. 
You imagined that the mere thought of you must just be another task she must complete and try to fit into her schedule, so you didn’t want to impose yourself and overwhelm her. 
Wanda also thought often about reaching out to you just to ask how you’d been and to let you know that she’d just been rather overwhelmed for the last two weeks, but that she’d been thinking of you and hoping her schedule might free up soon. 
She felt disappointed in the timing too, because she knew that your research project had already begun. 
But she thought the attempts would be fruitless and unwanted — why message you just to say she still couldn’t fulfil her promise?
There was one time you nearly had a proper conversation with her a few days ago. You were outside planting some flowers you had bought, finally having finished packing inside and deciding that it was time to decorate the exterior of your place too. 
Wanda was waiting for a ride from her coworker as her car was in the shop, and she had gone out to wait for her at the same time you were outside. 
She asked how your research had been going and you spoke a little about that, but you spoke more about the flowers you were planting and Wanda’s tips on how to take care of them. 
The conversation ended abruptly though the both of you had plenty more to say when a brunette older woman around Wanda’s age pulled into her driveway — and in a rather gorgeous vintage car. 
A few times, Wanda saw you walking around town with Dottie, a teacher at Tommy and Billy’s school and a member of the town council, and Wanda sometimes saw her at the meetings when she occasionally stopped by. 
They interacted a handful of times during events, but first met when she was Tommy and Billy’s teacher. She came off as condescending, at least to Wanda, but got along just fine with Vision. 
She didn’t think there was any particular reason that Dottie would dislike her, but she understood that it did sometimes happen that some people just didn’t get along by nature. But she seemed to be getting along with you just fine — quite well actually, for how often she saw you walking together. 
Over time when she had begun to hear from you less, Wanda figured that perhaps you had only just wanted to make a friend in Westview, and Dottie was around far more than she was.
Wanda supposed that Dottie was perhaps a bit more enthusiastic also. She was younger than her too, which Wanda guessed was something that you might like more — perhaps you had more in common with her.
It seemed like the only thing that aligned well between you and Wanda was where you lived.
“Ms Maximoff!” you called from your driveway, and Wanda turned to see you waving at her.
It was around six in the morning, and Wanda had to head to the shop early to receive some shipments. 
“Hi, Y/N,” she answered and waved back with a pleased smile.
The two of you bridged the gap between the two driveways and met in between.
“Good morning,” Wanda greeted, her smile wider upon seeing you much closer.
Your eagerness to speak with her was refreshing and quite nice.
“Morning,” you replied. “Are you heading to work?”
She nodded and explained, “I have a few shipments coming in today that I need to be there for. And you? Are you heading to your professor’s office?”
“I am, yeah,” you said, a bit wearily as if feeling sheepish.
Sometimes you felt a little shy bringing up things that made the age difference between you and Wanda all the more obvious, like how you were basically going off to school just like her kids would while she was heading off to work at a shop she owned. 
Wanda was about to ask why you seemed to lack enthusiasm about heading there, but then you asked: “Can I drive you to work? I can pick you up when you’re off.”
The offer took Wanda by surprise. You were so considerate of her, and without even a second thought to it. “O-Oh, really?” she stuttered. “You don’t have to do that. I’ve been coming home late recently; I don’t want to keep you up or bother you with waiting for me.”
“I know,” you said. “I hope it’s not stalkerish — it’s by complete coincidence, I promise — but sometimes I do see you coming home a bit later. But I have some things to read for my professor today that I’ll take home to do tonight, so I’ll be up.”
“That’s… really sweet. But why go out of your way?”
She couldn’t tell because you were facing away from the sunrise so your face had casted shadow upon it, but it seemed like you were blushing as if having been caught in an act.
Wanda only regarded you with curiosity, squinting a little against the sun so she could see you better.
“I don’t want to come off as pushy, I apologise,” you quickly explained. “It was just something that came to mind.”
“Oh, no, that’s not what I meant,” Wanda replied, waving her hands in front of her and placing a hand on your arm reassuringly when you looked unsure of yourself. She tried to conjure up something to explain why she was so confused and surprised by your kindnesses, but was quickly shut up by her own hand at the feeling of your still arm under her palm and the meeting of your eyes with hers.
She dropped her hand and tucked her hair behind her ear, trying to sort through her thoughts for you.
The more Wanda thought about why it was so difficult to navigate your personality, the more she came to the realisation that aside from friends, and coworkers — which category, for whatever reason, Wanda didn’t think you fell into in that same informality — the only other experience she could call on was that which she had with Vision.
He was very formal and docile, and never took risks or said or did things out of what was expected. It seemed often that he was filling a role or going through the motions of things, which had never been very much of a problem for Wanda, who had thoroughly appreciated how static and steady he was.
As such, Wanda found herself often flustered and surprised by your affectionate gestures that told her you were interested in spending time with her, and spared no subtlety.
“I just feel a little guilty for having no time lately, and I haven’t really done you any favours,” she explained. “I think I just feel surprised when you take the time out of your day to think of me.”
Wanda worried that she might have embarrassed you, and she stayed silent, trying not to fuck anything else up by rambling in the way that she always felt like doing. She forgot that you had just finished your undergrad and that she was, in stark comparison, thirty-two years old, divorced, and living in a small town in New Jersey with two young kids.
Maybe she was struggling to view you in the casual way that anyone else in her shoes ought to, to see you like a neighbour or a passerby or a temporary renter of the house she lived beside.
But if not any of those came naturally to her, how did she see you?
Why did she keep thinking of how you saw Dottie?
“I’m so sorry. I hope I didn’t sound like I was rejecting your kindness,” she added, unable to keep quiet for even a moment.
“Why do you feel like you have to do favours for me?” you asked. “It’s okay if you do nothing for me ever, actually. I think I just like your company.”
Did you like consistency, a stable presence?
Did it bother you that she had introduced herself to you, then didn’t talk much afterwards?
Was trying to see her more a form of seeking consistency in a new town, rather than out of an actual desire of seeing her?
“I would love to get a ride from you,” Wanda told you and smiled. “Thank you. And I don’t think you come off as pushy at all.”
You and Wanda talked a lot on the drive to the shop. 
She told you that she’d been extremely stressed with balancing everything and getting everything prepared in time, and always tried to finish most if not all of her work before the weekends so she could spend the most of it with her sons. 
Thankfully, she’d been able to catch up with everything as the orders had died down, and she predicted that she may be finished before the upcoming weekend.
“Um, I don’t know if maybe you might not want to — so feel free to say no, since I know you have stuff going on,” you said once you parked in front of Wanda’s shop. “But I went to this really nice garden a few days ago and saw that next weekend there’s a Spring festival event, and I was wondering if you’d like to come with me.”
Before Wanda could answer, you added quickly, “Again, also, I don’t wanna add to your stress.”
“Y/N,” Wanda said, softly, before reaching over to place her hand atop of yours where it laid on your thigh. “I would love to go with you. I don’t think you’re a bother, and it wouldn’t add to my stress to see you at all. In fact, I think I would thoroughly enjoy taking the weekend to relax with you.”
“Really?”
Wanda nodded and smiled. “Westview has the Spring festival every year — it’s one of the reasons I’m quite busy at the shop at the start of the season.”
“Would your kids like to go?”
“Their father is taking them to New York City this weekend, so it’ll be just you and I, if that’s okay.”
The enthusiasm written on your face at her answer made Wanda giggle. 
“What’s got you so jolly at six in the morning?” Agatha asked as she was unloading the shipment of glass vases from the delivery truck.
“What?” Wanda asked, looking up from her bag that she had placed in the backroom to start helping her unload.
The two women had been friends since Wanda moved into Westview with Vision years ago. She was there for her before they divorced, during it, and after, and helped Wanda open her business. 
In fact, Agatha was Wanda’s right-hand woman in the shop, and they worked closely in terms of their job position and responsibilities.
Agatha stood up straight and put her hands on her hips, surveying her best friend. 
“What are you looking at?” Wanda inquired hastily, leaning over to try and lift up a rather large securely-wrapped vase — it was for a new store’s grand opening for this upcoming weekend, so they ordered a rather large ensemble. “Can you help me?”
She ignored Wanda’s request for help and pressed on. “Are you seeing someone?” 
“What? No! I’m not seeing anyone.”
Agatha squinted and her fingers tapped distractedly against her hip. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, Agatha, I’m sure. Please–”
“Did you sleep with someone last night? A one-night stand, then.”
Wanda stood up straight and put her hands on her own hips defiantly. “No!” she answered with finality. “Why are you asking me all this?”
“You just look like…”
“Like what?”
“You look smitten.”
She never used the term smitten in thinking about how she felt about you, but to have someone else call it that made Wanda reevaluate her feelings toward you.
Is that how she felt?
“It’s just nice to be noticed… and-and taken care of,” Wanda said as she and Agatha started restocking the inventory room, with Wanda checking things off their checklist and taking inventory count — albeit distractedly.
“Honey,” Agatha started, setting down a planter on the table Wanda was leaning her hip on and standing in front of her. “I’m so happy that you’ve met Y/N, and she seems really sweet, but I hope you know what you’re doing with someone younger than you.”
She added, “It’s not like this is something familiar to you. The only person you’ve really been with is your ex-husband, and you were the younger woman.”
Wanda looked down at the checklist, thinking. “I don’t think I’m really expecting her to… to want anything. I don’t think she could even be interested in that,” she said. “I think maybe I should just see things from a black-and-white perspective — see things as they are.”
“Don’t get me wrong — I don’t want to deter you from pursuing who you’re interested in, Wanda,” Agatha told her. “I just don’t want to see you hurt. I know you’ve been married and that you have kids, but you have a wide-eyed view of the world. I don’t want to see you get hurt or let down.”
“Were you busy today?” you asked as you held the passenger door open for Wanda.
“Thank you,” she said with a grateful smile as she slid in. “No — Agatha was working with me all day.”
When you got into the driver’s seat, you asked, “Who’s that?”
“She’s a good friend of mine, and we opened the shop together,” Wanda explained, buckling herself in. “How was your day?”
The conversation was so casual and almost domestic, and the comfort of being able to see you after work felt a lot like coming back home after a long day. 
“I guess not so bad,” you answered, making your way home. “I was reading and taking notes all day.”
After a moment of trying to garner some confidence, Wanda spoke. “Y/N, I want to say that I really appreciate your company, and how kind you’ve been to me,” she said honestly, playing with her fingers with her hands tucked between her thighs. “I don’t have a lot of time to meet new people, and Westview is rather small, so it’s also rare for anyone to be as thoughtful as you.”
She added, “I thought I should be honest, and I don’t want you to think I don’t appreciate the time you take for me.”
You shifted a little in your seat, and Wanda thought maybe you were just taking a moment to choose your words carefully. 
“I didn’t think you were unappreciative,” you reassured. “I was just trying to be friendly.”
Friendly. 
Wanda looked at you for a few moments, studying your face, until you turned and smiled at her. She returned the smile and looked back to the road silently. 
Had she embarrassed you this morning? 
Was she misreading things?
She wanted to sink into the seat and fall right through to the core of the earth. 
The rest of the drive was filled mostly with small talk, though it didn’t feel very awkward. However, Wanda felt like she was on edge, like she had some responsibility to be more direct or open, and she didn’t quite know how else to be anything but hesitant and unsure of herself. 
She felt disappointed when you pulled into her driveway, now having been unable to communicate her affection for you properly throughout the drive. 
“By the way, uh…” You scratched the back of your neck awkwardly and Wanda looked at you, anxious about what you might say. 
If you were going to apologise for being so forward and open with her, she wouldn’t know what to do next. She wanted to keep becoming closer with you, and to spend time with you like you’d discussed, and she wouldn’t know how to take that up on her own if you decided to apologise for everything. 
“I made you dinner,” you said finally and turned around to reach in the backseat to hand Wanda a tupperware of pasta that was still quite warm. “You’re always coming back late, and I’m sometimes having dinner later because I just get caught up with the work I’m doing, so I thought I’d just make you some since I was gonna pick you up.”
You had an awkward, nervous smile on your lips and your thumb kept tapping against the lid as you spoke. 
Wanda melted, her hand coming to her chest as she leaned forward to take a look at what looked like spaghetti. “Y/N, I don’t know what to say… You didn’t have to…”
She felt truly a loss for words, being entirely unable to remember the last time someone had been so considerate of her. 
Since her divorce, most of Wanda’s life had been occupied by her job and her children. It wasn’t anything to complain about, and she very rarely ever did, but your kindness and attention the past little while reminded her of how infrequently she had anything new happen in her life. 
“You’re so considerate of me,” she said as sincerely as she could communicate, looking up from the food and at you, who met her eyes with a soft blush before looking away.
The bashfulness of your reaction made Wanda take her bottom lip between her teeth, a small grin forming on her lips, equally as nervous but also fueled by her intrigue in you.
“Thank you for driving me and making me dinner,” Wanda said after unlocking her front door.
When she turned, you were standing on her porch looking at her expectantly, the tupperware in hand. She thought you looked so sweet… and young — just innocent.
There was something so delicate about the respectful distance the both of you kept, a lingering interest in one another, and something that just felt tense. 
It made Wanda ache in ways she couldn’t quite explain. 
Even with Vision, the excitement she’d felt with him was different from what she was feeling now. She was so young back when they first met, and the pull she’d felt towards him was similar to that of a lighthouse’s to a stranded sailor. 
There was so much she’d yet to learn or live through when she first met him, and she often wondered how things might’ve been if she hadn’t spent so much of her time tied down. 
But at the end of everything, there were the twins, and Wanda could never truly wish for anything that had happened up until now to change if it meant not having them. 
If she thought about it, it seemed that most of what she did was settle for a lack of other opportunity; nothing very new or exciting happened in her life nor in Westview, and by the time she was no longer who she was when she first moved to America, she was engaged with plans for children and a future with the first man she’d met when she came here. 
She suddenly felt quite determined to become close with you, for it certainly wasn’t very often that anyone paid her any mind. 
Especially not someone like you. 
“I really enjoy your company, Ms Maximoff, and I know you think I’m always going so far out of my way for you, but honestly, I like to be able to help,” you insisted. 
Wanda felt a surge in the depths of her lower stomach and up to her chest at the polite tone of your voice and the way you looked in the warm orange of her porch light. She stepped forward and took the tupperware from you. She wrapped an arm around your upper back and pecked your cheek. 
“The effort isn’t lost on me, I assure you,” she said, then pulled away with a soft smile to find your cheeks slightly flushed and your eyes darting around nervously. Her smile could only widen in response and she laughed a little, pulling away from you to head inside.
She bid you a goodbye with a wave of her hand which you returned, and Wanda closed the front door behind her. 
Almost immediately once she closed the door, the twins called from their father’s phone to talk with her before they headed to bed; sometimes they called in the evenings when they were away, and especially if they’d done something fun with their father earlier. 
They greeted her together: “Hi, mom!” 
“Hi, boys,” she replied with a widening grin as she set her things down, balancing your tupperware in the other arm. “Shouldn’t you be asleep by now?”
Then there came the excuses of wanting to stay up to speak with her. She thought they were cute when they were making excuses, so she pretended she didn’t catch on. 
It wasn’t until after the call ended and Wanda was in the middle of eating the dinner you’d prepared for her that she finally had time to reflect on some things. 
Firstly, the dinner was delicious, and so that made a marvellous impression in her mind about you as a well-put-together student who knew how to cook for herself. 
Then she wondered — worried, even — if the kiss was going a bit too far. But you didn’t seem uncomfortable, and there was something about you that made Wanda think you were–
She frowned at herself, rubbing her forehead with the hand she was holding her fork in as she nearly came to a thought that she wouldn’t be able to decipher between projection and reality. 
And if it were projection, that must mean there was some sort of intentionality behind it. 
Maybe Agatha was right, and she really was smitten. 
What would anyone else call it — a crush? 
That made her nose wrinkle up as she poked at the pasta, deep in thought; older women didn’t get crushes. Older women were presently married or they got divorced. 
But a college student, for crying out loud… 
What was she thinking?
She took her bottom lip between her teeth and stared at her phone, trying to repress the urge to text you about dinner as if she hadn’t just been scolding herself for the complicated feelings she was having about you. 
Giving in, she set the fork down and texted you, telling you that the dinner was delicious, and moreover, that she would certainly have to find a way to pay you back and buy you a meal this weekend. 
She thought she was acting ridiculous for having just previously been feeling conflicted for how she was feeling and now itching to hear a response from you. 
Wanda moved her empty bowl away and hid her face in her arms, feeling helpless for the fluttery way she continued to feel in her stomach in spite of how her mind desperately tried to come up with ways to reason her thoughts of you away. 
She knew what anyone would call her — a divorcée desperate for attention from a younger girl who wasn’t as caught up with life as people her age were and so, predictably, Wanda clung onto you. 
But it wasn’t like she couldn’t get the attention of other people. 
Once Wanda had signed up for a dating app upon Agatha’s advice, and she thought it was rather easy to find people interested in her, though often attracting men she didn’t feel very invested in at all nor whom she ever enjoyed seeing enough for a second date. 
Not very often, but here and there, Wanda would be approached by men in public too. 
She always thought her lack of interest was because she was too busy, and even entertained the idea that perhaps she just wasn’t cut out for any kind of relationship after her marriage. 
But she didn’t feel that way at all about you. She thought you were sweet and rather cute and though she had to admit there was something about your age that enticed her, she also really enjoyed talking with you when she could over text, and often looked forward to passing by you in the driveway. 
She was curious about things like your schooling and what you thought of Westview, and more about where you’d come from and how you decorated the inside of your place. 
And there was a feeling deep within her chest and rising up her belly when she was around you or when you spoke with her, blushing around her or smiling in the shy way you did, that she couldn’t recall if she felt with Vision at all. 
As Wanda got ready for bed and pretended like there wasn’t a reason she carried her phone with her to the washroom, she thought more about how she felt about Vision when they first met, and questioned her attraction to him. 
There were times when she certainly felt attracted, though most typically when they were about to have sex and more frequently after they got married, but she couldn’t recall if the interest she felt with you this early into knowing you was ever involved in how she regarded Vision. 
She just couldn’t stop thinking about how unsure and confused she was during the time of her life when they’d first met, and how that differed greatly from the place she was in now. 
While getting into bed, Wanda’s phone buzzed. She picked it up faster than she’d like to admit. 
You texted: Yay! Glad you like it!! I’m really looking forward to this weekend :)
A smile came to Wanda’s face as she read your text and she slowly descended into the comfort of her sheets as she replied. Perhaps she should’ve just liked the message and headed to bed, but after thinking of you for so long, she couldn’t help but want to talk a little more. 
She replied: Are you still up doing work? Or are you heading to bed soon?
The response was read almost immediately and Wanda felt her heart race. 
Just one more thing I have to do, then bedtime.. I hope you sleep well, Ms Maximoff <3
Wanda felt a rush surge through her and she inhaled sharply after reading the message, feeling her fingers partially frozen for a moment.
It was at a time in her relationship with you that you could start calling her by her first name, and really, the formalities made her feel a little old. 
But also, there was something she liked about how polite you were — the shy smile on your face as you called her Ms Maximoff, how well-mannered you were.
And if she really thought about it… Wanda thought it placed her in a position of some authority, implying not only an age difference but a power dynamic when you addressed her. 
It was new for her. 
Don’t overwork yourself, Y/N :) Sweet dreams.
Wanda set her phone down and stared up at the ceiling. She wondered if you’ve ever been interested in an older woman before. Her cheeks immediately warmed at the thought — calling herself an older woman, carrying with it some sort of scandalous implication, and imagining you, someone so innocent and sweet, involved in it. 
Her thoughts wandered before she could stop them, thinking of what that dynamic might be like. 
Did she suit the ‘older woman’ character? Didn’t someone young like you need someone older and experienced, and confident about their sexuality? Isn’t that how these things normally went?
But she hardly knew anything, and only had one very short fling with a man since her divorce. 
She’d never even been with a woman, let alone a younger girl. 
Wanda turned onto her side and brought her plush blankets up to her face, the cold surface of it cooling her flushed cheeks. 
But she couldn’t help but really think about it… As in, the kind of relationship and dynamic the two of you might have together if it really did happen, and if, maybe, she wasn’t making it all up. 
If you had the capacity to like an older woman, that must’ve meant you had been with other girls before. 
The thought of it made Wanda’s heart race. 
She’d heard from Agatha the difference between being with a woman and with a man, that women were softer and smarter, knowing how to touch another woman as if she were herself, never thinking of imposing herself upon her like men did.
Sleeping with a woman is a form of masturbation, she’d said, for how women knew each other like they knew themselves. 
Wanda wondered if you were as gentle with a lover as you were by your nature, for she knew that some people were vastly different in the bedroom than they were outside of it.
The thought of you exploring her body with your open palms and curved fingers, just as considerate and kind as you always were with her, a shaky ‘Ms Maximoff, is this okay?’ spilling from your lips as you moved closer–
Wanda squeezed her eyes shut and turned onto her other side, her fingers tightening around her blankets as she felt an undeniable ache growing between her thighs. 
Daring to act defiantly against her sense of shame and dignity, trembling fingers slipped beneath her pajama shorts, not daring to go farther than her hips. 
Her nails sunk into her right hip, scratching lightly at the skin as she held herself back, only for her thoughts to wander to the idea of your clumsy hands grabbing at her hips, your nails pressing into her skin as you pulled her closer, your breath shaky.
She took one of her pillows and lifted her blanket up, tucking it between her thighs and up against her clothed centre. 
Taking her bottom lip between her teeth and hiding the top half of her face with her hand, she dared to roll her hips forward to satisfy the pressure between her thighs. But it was too dull for how her clit throbbed, desperate for further contact. 
Frustrated at both how she was giving in and with how she had grown so desperate to the point of hastily pushing the pillow out of the way, she slipped her fingers past the waistband of her shorts and underwear.
The pads of her fingers met with the warmth of her sticky folds and Wanda whimpered into her pillow, turning her head and hiding from some invisible presence that she imagined was looking down at the display she was putting on. 
She circled her middle finger against her clit and she shuddered, goosebumps running up her thighs as she tightly wrapped an arm around the pillow she’d previously pushed away, and she pulled it to her chest. 
When she felt she was wet enough, and at the feeling of how she began tightening around nothing, her eyebrows furrowed together as she entered herself with two fingers, her thighs parting to allow her wrist some room. 
She couldn’t help the way her mind went to you, not when her body urged to feel more; her thoughts summoned the thought of you, daring to imagine you beneath her, your hands running up her bare hips and up to hold her waist, the look of your face contorted with pleasure, your eyes meeting hers. 
She’d never considered herself very assertive, especially not in the bedroom, but there was just something about you that awoke something in her that was completely foreign. 
The idea of it excited her. 
She’d never felt so… aroused. 
Her thoughts gradually became more shameful, thinking about how you sounded like when you orgasmed, and particularly enjoying the idea that you’d be shy to make noise, prone to begging, and one to be eager to please your lover. 
Wanda felt herself inch closer to her climax. 
Maybe you’d be nervous to be with an older woman, hesitant to touch her and worried about being disrespectful. The thought of herself encouraging you, no longer being unsure and passive about things, sent a thrill through Wanda that she was certain she’d never felt before. 
All this she associated only with you, and as she felt herself begin to tighten around her fingers, Wanda’s mind was full of you, shamelessly, and her heart pounded against her ribcage.
She came, crying out partially-muffled with half her face buried in her pillow, her wrist sore and her fingers numb to the repetitive speed at which she fingered herself.
When she fell back down from her height, her previously-arched back met the damp sheets beneath her and she felt momentarily anaesthetised as she caught her breath. 
She groaned at how fatigued she felt, not having had such a tiring orgasm in a while, much less with just her fingers. 
While she was washing her hands, she thought of you, wondered if you’d ever touched yourself to the thought of her, and soon squarely came to the decision that she would pursue you. 
She’d made quite a mess of herself, and decided to also change her underwear before heading to bed. 
The next few days before the weekend approached, Wanda felt increasingly encouraged every time she interacted with you, especially after having kissed you on the cheek that night. She still felt that she’d gone a little too far, but you still seemed to really like her. 
She realised that she didn’t know as much about you as she’d like, and became increasingly enthusiastic about thst weekend when she’d be able to spend more time with you. 
On Friday, you and Wanda made plans for the weekend, and it was agreed that she would drive the both of you to the festival then back home to repay you for a few nights ago. 
Dressed in a sundress that reached below her knees and deciding to go with her hair down, Wanda nervously crossed the strip of grass that divided your two driveways and walked up to your front door. 
It was convenient that you were neighbours, but the space between the two of you left very little time for Wanda to soothe her own anxiety as she prepared for a day out together. 
You opened the front door and stepped through as if not trying to waste a moment to head out.
“Hi,” you said with a smile as you stepped onto the porch before turning to lock the front door. 
“Hi,” she answered and returned the polite smile when you turned back around, slightly nervous with her hands held in front of her body, holding her purse.
Wanda was suddenly overcome at your momentary undivided attention, feeling that if you scrutinised her just enough, you’d be able to read on her face what she had done to the thought of you that first night it happened, and nearly every night since. 
It was the first time she was seeing you since then beyond some short conversations in the driveway, and some paranoid part of her thought you secretly knew all she’d been doing. 
“I don’t think I’ve seen you with your hair down,” you noted as we drove to the town square where the festival was taking place. “Did you curl it a little?”
Feeling suddenly self-conscious now that you’d noticed, Wanda took one hand off the wheel and played with the ends of her hair. “Um,” she hesitated. “I did — a little.”
“No, I mean, it’s really pretty, Ms Maximoff,” you quickly said in case she got the wrong idea.
Feeling that perhaps you might’ve been teasing, for whatever reason, Wanda looked over at you momentarily and found you looking over at her. You met her eyes with a small encouraging smile and Wanda looked back onto the road.
“Thank you,” she replied, a smile of her own slowly growing. “I don’t usually do anything with it because I’m either working or at home, and don’t often dress up for anything.” She kept her hair short for functionality reasons, partly, and also because she’d cut it after her divorce just to try something new and found some comfort in keeping the same hairstyle.
Once or twice, she tried to grow it out again, but it just seemed impractical for how often she kept her hair up or had it pushed back with a headband during work, and even at home.
It made her feel rather flattered that you paid mind to something like her hair, since for the most part Wanda saw herself as blending in with the rest of Westview’s docile and placid background, which was to say that she didn’t think there wasn’t anything particularly interesting about herself.
To have a fresh pair of eyes focus on her so much made sparks flutter about in her body. 
Her polite smile wavered slightly as more perverse thoughts overcame her. She wondered what lay beyond your still gaze that was both polite as your eyes crinkled at the sides and slightly girlish as your face seemed to glow when you smiled. 
Surely, no one suspected that she’d done all that she had to the thought of you — how wet the thought of you made her, the amount of times she moaned your name with her back arched or with her body sprawled across the cool sheets of her bed.
But she had done them all. 
Could the same be said for you, beyond an externality that no one else would suspect such things about? 
Wanda felt a wave of shame course through her — what was she doing, assuming such things about a college student, and projecting her own desires onto you?
But even that thrum of shame made her ache and she pressed her thighs together in her seat; she should’ve felt humiliated and ashamed for the thoughts she was having, but instead, she felt… thrilled, and in a way she hadn’t ever felt before. 
Upon arriving at the festival, and finding a good parking spot in a closer area designated for employees due to Wanda owning the shop that had provided so many of the booths with their bouquets and flower arrangements, the two of you decided on getting lunch first. 
Truthfully, Wanda had been so anxious about the upcoming day out with you that her nerves had been far too frenzied to allow her to stomach any food, or to feel any hunger to begin with. It was only until she passed a booth of fresh buttered corn that she’d realised she hadn’t eaten a thing all day, and that she was finally hungry.
Deciding on some deli sandwiches, you and Wanda took your food and drinks to a seating area beneath an oak tree at one of the parks. 
For a Spring day, it was particularly warm — likely because there was hardly any breeze at all. 
For the weather, Wanda was glad she was wearing a dress, and maybe she was just making it all up, but she could swear she’d seen your eyes running over her exposed legs, and even peeking down her dress. 
Maybe you were just curious about what she was wearing, but still, Wanda couldn’t control the way she felt her heart thump at the prospect that you were checking her out. 
The eyes of men had only ever made her feel preyed on, and whether she was anything less than mildly annoyed depended on whether she had enough patience to tolerate any of it. 
Sometimes she thought it was strange for her to feel so abhorrent towards men when she’d been able to marry Vision. She hadn’t felt this impatient and bored around him, and not even when they’d first met. 
She certainly wouldn’t call it abhorrent, but with how often women her age spoke about fantasies or fooling around with younger men or their handsome coworkers — even Agatha had a tendency to do this — it wasn’t uncommon for some to question her interest in remarrying or at the very least, finding a new partner. 
All this she told you as you ate together, aside from how the train of thought started with her realising how aroused she felt at the thought that you were checking her out. She was interested in sharing much more about herself and learning that much more about you. 
“Maybe you haven’t met the right guy yet,” you suggested helpfully. “A lot of people say the right one comes along when you’re not really looking.”
Seriously, though, for whatever reason, the idea of going through the motions of meeting a new man was a process Wanda felt herself dreading whenever she thought about it. She could imagine nothing worse than inviting a man into her home and introducing him to her children, him meeting her friends, being touched by a man, waking up next to one. 
“I don’t think I’m looking for any guy right now,” Wanda replied, pushing a tomato that had partially slipped from her sandwich back in between the bread. She looked up and found you were looking at her, perhaps trying to interpret what she was saying. 
While she had your rapt attention, she couldn’t help but suddenly ask, “Where did you meet your boyfriend?”
The question made you blush a little but you also laughed, as if what she was asking could be interpreted as irony. 
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you answered, replying politely for it had been a serious question albeit with the intention to probe into your love life. 
Wanda tried not to show any expression at your answer, and instead tapped the tip of her shoe against the grass beneath her seat idly as if to pace herself. The thought that you might have a boyfriend was one of the ideas that Wanda let float around in her head to rein her mind back to chastity when it wandered off, and she felt herself take in a small breath when you said you didn’t have one.
“I presume it would be far too much to balance now that you’ve moved away and are now doing work in a new town,” Wanda said then finished the last bite of her sandwich. 
You made a noise like agreement, but also as if you had more to say on the topic, and when Wanda looked at you, you seemed to be gauging whether to say more. You bit your tongue after taking too long to choose between asking if she herself was seeing anyone or saying that you weren’t interested in men at all. 
‘I suppose that’s true,’ is all you ended up saying. 
After lunch, you and Wanda decided to walk through the corn maze attraction because the both of you were interested in talking much more and moving your bodies without being distracted by the booths and festival games. 
It was quite fun to go through the maze with you. It was really rare that Wanda got time to do fun things like this with someone other than the twins — not that she didn’t enjoy spending that time with them, but she herself felt a little more like a child spending this kind of time with you, which wasn’t a liberty she very often had the chance to experience. 
A maze was the perfect thing to do with you, Wanda thought, for even taking the wrong turn meant spending more time with you as you walked back to the fork to try a different path, and neither of you were in a rush to finish, so it was more like a fun walk.
You also said that though the research position was interesting so far, it was a routine that didn’t allow for much enjoyment unless you went out of your way to do something new. 
Wanda sympathised, saying that much of her new milestones in life had come about that way — marriage, having children, and starting her business with Agatha. After saying it, she realised how depressing it sounded and even felt a little embarrassed talking about such things with you. You were young after all, and here she was rambling about how all of her life was a comfortable endless routine as if she were Sisyphus.
“You must think I’m rather boring,” Wanda said, looking down at the mess of hay, flattened onto the grass from all the people who’d trekked through the maze. Her tone sounded almost apologetic to her ears though she didn’t think she was trying to apologise for anything in particular.
“What?” you said, shocked. “What do you mean? No, I don’t.”
She laughed a little at your shock, but couldn’t help but feel that your response was a little naive. Once you grew up some more and experienced more of the world and met far more interesting people, Wanda was sure she’d only be a memory you’d look back on with some kind of pity, thinking, ‘What a sweet woman she was — such a shame she lived in such a dull town. After all, I could only stand living there for so long until my research period was over.’
“Well, I’m always doing all the same things,” Wanda explained. “I’ll probably be doing it for much longer too until the twins grow up and go off to college. I love the shop but I think I’d rather move elsewhere once they don’t need me in town.”
There was silence and Wanda looked over to you as you both turned a corner, and you looked to be a little confused, or at least thinking. 
“But,” you started, “how does that have anything to do with you being boring?”
“How does that not mean I’m boring?” Wanda replied though acutely aware of how strange she was sounding, arguing for self-deprecation. “I just mean there’s nothing particularly interesting that I do.”
Then she added, perhaps rambling out of a place of deep belief, “It’s different from you — you’re still young and pursuing your passions.”
The images of you and Dottie walking around the few times that Wanda had seen the two of you came to mind again. Even if there was a chance that you would be interested in women, and women that were older than you, Dottie seemed to be a better match for you. She was more talkative and though she was an elementary school teacher, she was still working in some form of schooling, which might interest you far more than flowers and single-motherhood, and she was younger than Wanda and, from the looks of it, seemed to have more free time to spend with you than she did. Plus, she hadn’t yet been married and didn’t have any children. 
Wanda could’ve been way over her head in two respects, and suddenly she felt a little foolish for how she’d been thinking of you — all this build-up in her mind when she didn’t suit you at all to begin with.
“But I think you’re interesting,” you reasoned. “I don’t think I’ve ever really put a lot of thought into what you do work-wise. Or your daily schedule.”
Then after a moment, when Wanda didn’t respond immediately, you added hesitantly, “But is that… something you’d expect people to consider? Or is that something you consider, usually?”
Wanda felt a kind of whiplash from the jelly you’d turned her legs into and the shame she then immediately felt for how shallow she must’ve seemed to you. “N-No,” she stuttered, speaking right away to not seem idiotic and just hoping to find the actual words she wanted to say while she was rambling nonsensically.
Truthfully, you didn’t think Wanda was being shallow at all, or that she was being overly concerned with hers and other people’s professions. You were also aware of the age difference between you and her, and how preferences and paths of life differed between ages; you were embarrassed at first, thinking that maybe you sounded far too naive, like a child with no grasp of real life or what really mattered to someone busy and with their own lives like she had.
Often, you thought you were way over your head, crushing on and fantasising about an older woman with her own business and family, with her own priorities who was now settled down and likely too busy to think about any romantic partner.
Much less with a college girl.
And wasn’t Wanda’s ex-husband a lawyer?
College girls weren’t her type.
“No,” she started again, “I just thought… We’re different in that respect, so I thought it might have maybe… bored you.”
If Wanda hadn’t also been looking down at the ground, listening to the muffled sounds of hay and grass beneath her shoes, she would’ve looked up and been able to see that you looked slightly flustered, for you felt that you were in a position of being confessed to.
It didn’t go over your head how Wanda seemed rather concerned about how you viewed her, and worried that you might think that she was boring. The very idea, whatever its context was, that she thought so often about you and your perspective of her made your knees feel a little mushy.
“But… You think I’m interesting?” Wanda then asked, raising her head and looking at you.
You had been so adamant to prove her wrong that you’d sort of just blurted it out. You thought you’d gone a little too far, but you looked over to Wanda and met her eyes.
It could’ve been the way the sun peeked from above the hay maze and cast its light upon Wanda’s face, but her eyes seemed particularly lit up, her expression looking even a bit hopeful as she asked you for confirmation.
“Um, yes, I do,” you confirmed with a smile. “I think you’re really nice and interesting and sometimes I see you out in the driveway with your twins and you seem like such a sweet family, and I’ve been curious about you since you said you owned a floral shop and brought me flowers.”
Well, now you were rambling.
Then you said something really stupid.
“Also, um… I think you’re a really pretty woman. I mean, ‘gorgeous’ is a better word. I hardly ever hear ‘pretty woman’ as a compliment, though I meant it to be true. It just sounds odd as a word combination.”
Wanda felt cheeks heating up and she was grateful that the two of you had finally found the end of the maze, for she felt like she needed to take a breath. But she couldn’t not respond to something like that right away. She swallowed and reached for your forearm and brushed her fingers against your skin to reassure you when you looked away, then dropped her hand.
She knew she should be saying something in response, especially now that she’d gotten your attention back by touching your arm, but she couldn’t come up with any words, just staring into your eyes with lips slightly parted but completely silent.
“Can we play one of the games?” you then offered, and Wanda blinked out of her stupor, remembering where the two of you were.
“A game?” she asked, still slightly disoriented. 
You continued walking away from the maze exit and headed towards the festival, Wanda following beside you.
“Maybe I can win you a stuffed toy,” you suggested, looking around at the game booths. 
Wanda smiled at the glint of determination in your eyes and stepped closer to you. “Maybe I’ll win you a toy first,” she challenged lightheartedly, looking for any excuse to interact with you more. 
The rest of the time you moved between different games, and you and Wanda didn’t talk so much about things other than the games you were playing and some lighthearted memories that came up as you played. 
Both of you were enjoying your time, but Wanda particularly, who’d never really done anything during such town events aside from help organise and sometimes take the twins out for them. 
Her cheeks were sore from smiling and laughing by the time you were the one to win a prize first.
You handed her a stuffed blue jellyfish, with thin curly tentacles and a soft round body, spotted with white and pale blue. 
“It’s so cute,” Wanda said with a tiny smile, squishing the soft body of the jellyfish gently and running her eyes over it in detail as the two of you walked to her car. 
She insisted, “I was really close to getting you the giraffe… It was luck that you won first — not skill.”
“Maybe I can win you the ability not to be a sore loser next time,” you poked. 
Then as she raised her head, seeing her car come into closer view, it dawned on her that she’d be dropping you off at home and your time together would be over, but she wasn’t quite ready to end the day. 
She stopped at the driver’s side and spoke to you over the roof of the car, “Do you want to take a look inside the shop? Maybe I can help you put together a bouquet, or any kind of decorative piece for your place.”
She added, to ensure she didn’t sound pushy, “Only if you want to and if you have time. I’m sure you had other things planned for the day.”
You beamed at the suggestion and nodded with a smile. “I’d love to see the shop,” you said enthusiastically.
“I’m excited to see more of where you are and what you get up to for so much of your day,” you confessed, your hands folded in between your thighs. “I remember when I visited, and it was gorgeous at the front of the store.”
Wanda thought it was so sweet how you thought her little shop was so fantastical. “It’s a bit more of a mess in the back and less presentation-worthy, but I’m also looking forward to showing you around,” she replied, looking over to you and feeling flustered at how genuinely happy you were. 
The feeling that you were truly eager to spend more time with her made Wanda all but melt in her seat. 
It was beginning to darken, a soft purple-pink tint coming over the sky as the sun began to set. It was still a little light outside, and the pink hue of the sun cast in a nice way against your skin. 
Wanda was feeling nice thinking about the fact that you’d been out together for a while now, and that you’d be out for longer still. 
“I don’t do this for just any old neighbour, you know,” Wanda teased, looking at you from the corner of her eye as she unlocked the front door. 
“Just a few?” you joked back. 
Without hesitation, Wanda replied and looked over at you with a little grin, “Just you.”
She didn’t seem to think very much of what she said, though it struck you as rather flirtatious and made you feel like a special figure in her life, since she walked ahead right after saying it, leaving you to follow behind after breaking from your momentary stupor. 
It felt so peaceful to be at the shop in the evening with you, telling you about things like how to store freshly cut flowers and how she kept them preserved upon shipments and how they did deliveries.
Wanda had indeed been interested in flowers and plants and owning a floral shop when she first opened it with Agatha, but much of the passion had turned into businesslike concern, and oftentimes Wanda didn’t have much time to take a step back and enjoy what she was doing.
But your fresh pair of eyes and genuine curiosity, asking her questions like how she knew she wanted to open a shop and how long she’d known Agatha for, made Wanda see everything like she had when she first opened the shop, and your curiosity and interest reminded her closely of the kind of passion she’d gotten distracted from once she got used to Westview’s repetition.
Wanda kept viewing herself from the shoes of Agatha if she had also been in the shop somewhere, watching as she giggled at your playful jokes and blushed at your undivided attention, which didn’t necessarily have to be interpreted as flirtatious for Wanda to feel flustered by.
Sometimes all you had to do was look at her while Wanda wasn’t looking so when she turned to look at you, your eyes were on her rather than on whatever she was trying to show you.
She kept thinking of Agatha especially because Wanda wondered whether she was making all of it up, and if all of it truly was platonic, and she wondered what her closest friend would say about all of this.
But the more Wanda felt herself stuttering around you or making some excuse to stand close to you or brush against you, she could no longer trust even her interpretations of what a third-party might say about things.
But the most delusional of it all, Wanda thought, was that she kept thinking of the image of you with Dottie walking down the shopping district during the times where Wanda was too busy to spend time with you and talk with you as much as she wanted.
She kept recalling the feeling of how tired she’d been coming out of work, the sun just about to start setting, and looking forward to getting home after picking up the twins. She had been at a stoplight thinking of what to make for dinner when you passed in front her along the crosswalk, Dottie at your side as you spoke with each other.
She was always wearing something pretty, her taste in clothing professional and delicate as an elementary school teacher, her blonde hair always curled or put up.
From what she’d heard from the few times she attended the town meetings — not that Dottie was so infamous but rather because she was friends with some of the mothers who attended — Dottie was the daughter of old-money parents who owned acres of rural farmland a few hours away from New Jersey.
Dottie was everything Wanda wasn’t.
Were you doing things like this with her too? 
Were you only being polite?
While the two of you were putting together a little vase of different coloured roses together for your living room, Wanda quietly spoke up. “I’ve been meaning to ask you…” she started quietly, kind of hoping you might suddenly change the topic, leaving the question forgotten. 
But instead you looked up from trimming a stem of a white rose, your curiosity piqued as you anticipated her question.
Wanda felt your eyes on her and she kept her hands busy carefully removing the thorns of the roses as she continued. “Not to sound… strange…” she said, trying her best to keep her voice steady and unsuspecting. “But a few weeks ago I saw you with Dottie, and I was just curious about how you knew her.”
She took a risk and looked up from the flower she was holding.
“She was Tommy and Billy’s teacher once, and they still go to that elementary school, so I sometimes see her around when I drop them off and pick them up,” she added, to sound like she was asking for a practical reason.
“Oh,” you said, sounding a little surprised to hear her name brought up. “She’s a friend of the professor I’m doing research with. I… can’t really remember how they know each other. I think it might be through Dottie’s parents.”
A wave of cool relief washed over Wanda and she looked back down to the roses and started dethorning the other one to keep her face down in case she accidentally looked a bit elated.
“I see,” she answered as nonchalantly as she could, though she could hear a waver of relief evident in the way she breathed out. “It’s a small town.” But Wanda still couldn’t help but press on a little, feeling not yet fully satisfied by your answer.
“But… You don’t see her… often, do you?” she asked, looking up again just to see your expression, and hoping you didn’t seem suspicious about why she was asking.
You shook your head, just focused on trimming the stems the right length and carefully placing them in a pleasing way amongst each other in the vase Wanda provided. “No, not often at all,” you said. “Usually I see her when we’re meeting up together to have coffee with my professor.”
“So it’s a professional relationship?”
To that, you finally looked up from the flowers in your hands and looked over at Wanda, who immediately internally cursed herself for not watching her mouth; she’d gone a little too far, just asking you whatever came to mind.
“I don’t even know if it would be considered professional, per se,” you answered, your hands lowering a little as you focused on giving an answer. “She doesn’t have anything to do with my research. I think it’s just circumstantial — that’s a good way to describe it.”
Wanda swallowed and looked back down to the roses, immediately ready to drop the subject and move onto something else after realising just how overly curious she’d been sounding. 
Suddenly you were feeling a little awkward that Wanda had been talking about professional relationships and networking and all. All of that felt like a different world, and there was still a lot that Wanda considered in life that you didn’t.
You didn’t even think you had professional relationships, really, aside from your professor.
It felt like every time she brought up something you didn’t understand, the difference in age between the two of you became all the more evident, and you felt yourself becoming more and more childish and inexperienced in her eyes.
“Um, by the way… Ms Maximoff, I wanted to say that I felt kind of nervous to ask you to go out this weekend,” you confessed, and from the corner of your eye you saw Wanda raise her head and look at you. “I thought it might’ve been… I don’t know, like, a little stupid, even.”
“What?” she asked, surprised. She set her rose down and turned her body a little to look at you. The tone of her voice made you raise your head and meet her eyes. “Stupid? Why?”
You weren’t exactly sure what you had hoped to accomplish by confessing that, but you almost just felt like apologising somewhat for doing something stupid or childish before Wanda could realise it for herself.
Maybe you’d seem a little less naive if you just admitted to it right away, because honestly, you really did think you had been sounding a little stupid to ask her out for the festival, and often wondered if she only ever said yes to you out of pity because of how young you were.
Sometimes when she apologised for seeming standoffish or distant, you couldn’t help but feel that she was just trying to tend to a child’s tantrum.
But her response wasn’t as you initially thought it would be, and she seemed truly shocked at your confession, so you felt a little flustered and you now felt that you had been overdramatic.
“I-I just mean… Well…” 
As you stuttered for a response, you realised you had no excuse to make, and honestly, Wanda had only ever been kind to you, so you had no reason to try and lie. So you thought to tell the truth.
“It sometimes feels like I don’t really have a grasp on your life, and like you may just be too busy or disinterested to do stuff like go out to a festival to get driven to work or…”
You trailed off to find the rest of your words, and you saw Wanda continuing to watch your face from the corner of your eye. One of her arms was resting on the counter beside her, her hands fidgeting with each other’s fingertips in front of her stomach.
“I think maybe I didn’t really consider that you might feel more comfortable not knowing your neighbours so much, and that even though it might be true you don’t mind when I do you favours or ask to do things in our freetime, I know that you’re also busy and preoccupied with things and… Just more comfortable with how things had been.”
Well… Dottie certainly didn’t get any of this kind of confession from you.
Wanda took a tiny step forward. She knew what you were trying to get at; there was an age difference between the two of you and sometimes the difference casted doubt on whether you were both thinking the same thing, always wondering how you were perceived by the other.
“I know how you feel,” she reassured, reaching out to brush her hand against your arm against the better half of her mind telling herself it was a bad idea to move closer to you. She fidgeted with her fingers again and took a little breath, wanting to be open and honest like you just had been.
She confessed, “I think that sometimes I might be projecting myself onto you.”
The words shocked you and you looked up and met her eyes, surprised to see her looking a little nervous as she spoke. You didn’t think anything about your relationship with Wanda had the power to make her nervous; she always just seemed like she had everything so well-structured.
She owned a business with a close friend and was a single mother of two young boys and lived in a nice house. She was beautiful and kind, and the idea that she might be nervous in any sense while interacting with you surprised you greatly.
“Sometimes I can’t exactly tell if I’m… understanding things correctly…” she added, swallowing hard. The momentary silence between responses thrummed against her eardrums, and the light from the ceiling became strangely brighter and looked as light often did when she was down with a terrible flu.
The implication was heavy, and she was worried about how you would take it. She tried to immediately relax herself by thinking that you’d only pick up on what she was implying if you yourself had been thinking similar things, but there was always a chance that you’d understand what she was saying and not feel the same way.
She could hardly bear the thought of confessing unreciprocated, for she foresaw absolutely no way to come back from that kind of rejection… She would look like such a fool, and she wouldn’t know how to handle the kinds of things she did and felt because of you.
The things she felt for you had been different from anything before, and if you rejected her, there was no way for her to deal with this new kind of awakening, and she was certain there’d be no other chance to be attracted to someone in the way she was with you.
“I think maybe I’m in over my head, Ms Maximoff…” you said quietly.
Suddenly Wanda was overcome with the possibility of what you were also implying, and the very possibility that you meant what she thought was overcoming the fear of being rejected or being wrong.
All she’d been doing was fantasising and mulling over possibilities and uncertainties about how she was feeling and how you might be feeling, and now the possibility that you might feel the same way, that she wasn’t just making it all up the whole time, seemed more real and tangible than it ever had been before.
She knew she was thinking irrationally.
There were better ways to do this.
But she could only really think of doing one thing.
She placed her hand atop the counter at the midway point between the both of you and she stepped forward, tipping her head to the side ever so slightly as she moved closer. Her breath felt warm against her own lips as her exhales reached your upper lip, and your eyes looked lidded and your face slightly flushed before she closed her eyes and met her soft lips with yours.
You immediately put your rose down and placed your hand on Wanda’s lower back, pulling her closer, and Wanda felt like she could collapse into your body at the gesture.
You really did want her. She hadn’t been making it up.
Though she’d been married before, this felt like the first time anyone truly reciprocated her feelings. Maybe that was because what feelings she had for Vision weren’t anything like the ones she had for you.
She was thirty-two and feeling this way for the first time; she felt like she’d really been missing out.
It didn’t take very long for the slow and hesitant kiss to grow heated, perhaps due to its confirmation of mutual attraction and interest. Your arm wrapped around Wanda’s waist and your other hand moved up the curve of her spine, up to where her sundress exposed her upper back, your fingers entangling themselves in her hair as they moved up her neck.
Wanda sighed into your mouth, listening to the way it merged with your tiny moans and exhales. She had her own arm wrapped around your waist too, but with her other hand caressing your cheek, her thumb brushing against your soft skin, encouraging you.
She felt her lower back press against the edge of the counter and she realised you were pressing your body flush against hers.
Her heart was thumping wildly in her chest, her body feeling warm all over.
In her sundress with her arms and upper back and chest exposed, every brush you had against her skin sent shockwaves up her spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake as a familiar ache began to form deep in Wanda’s lower stomach, causing her to roll her hips forward, knocking them gently against your own.
Maybe when her mind was less fogged up and she could think of a world past the soft caresses of your hands and your delicate moans, she would think about how right Agatha was about being with women.
You were so delicate and gentle, and not only because she thought that that was just the kind of person you were, but also because of the smooth slope of your shoulders and how your arms slotted perfectly beneath hers. Your face was smooth and free of stubble and your lips were so soft, your sweet moans were enough to make Wanda weak in the knees, and you smelled so nice.
And it did really feel like you were touching her as if she were an extension of yourself.
“Ms Maximoff…” you sighed, sounding desperate as your hand fell away from cradling the back of her head and sending a wave of throbbing arousal down between Wanda’s thighs. Her eyebrows furrowed together and she pulled you closer, grasping at the hem of your shirt as her fingers tightened around the fabric, feeling just as desperate.
Then suddenly you yelped and pulled away from her lips, your body unwrapping from Wanda’s. Wanda’s eyes darted across your face and she worried for a moment that she accidentally bit your lip. 
“Y/N, a-are you okay? Did I hurt you?” she asked, panicked as she looked at you. Then she noticed that you had brought your hand up, surveying it under the light of the ceiling. “What happened?”
“U-Um, I accidentally put my finger down on a thorn,” you said, looking up at her sheepishly and showing her the curved thorn deep in your index finger.
Wanda stepped close again and wrapped her fingers around your wrist to get a better look at it. “Oh, dear… That’s quite deep…” she said, her voice low as she turned your finger around in the light to get a better look at it.
“Don’t worry — this happens quite often,” she reassured, looking over at you with a smile. The eye contact made you blush and you couldn’t help the way your eyes flickered down to her lips that now looked slightly swollen with how frantic your kiss had been.
The same flushed expression came over Wanda’s face but she looked back down to your finger and carefully laid it against her hand. “Don’t move,” she said. “I’ll take it out, but I want to make sure it doesn’t break off in your finger.”
Inching your hand closer to her eyes and into the light, her other hand came up and carefully pulled out the thorn, pulling it in the direction of its curve. A tiny bead of blood came from where it had pierced your skin. 
“Just a moment. Keep your finger upright,” she said, letting go of your wrist slowly so as to not move it from its place midair. She then turned and bent over a little to rummage under the counter.
You couldn’t help the way your chest fluttered at the sight of her so focused on taking care of you. 
She straightened again, now holding a bandaid, and laid the back of your hand against her fingers. With slightly furrowed eyebrows, she unwrapped the bandage and carefully secured it around your finger.
“There we go…” she said softly. “Not too tight?”
Heat rose to your cheeks when she looked back up to you again and you looked away with a shy smile and shook your head. “No, it’s just perfect.”
“Good.”
Then she threw the garbage out and brushed the thorns off of the countertop and into a nearby garbage can she lifted to the edge of the counter. She set it back down on the ground then turned back over to you nervously, brushing down the front of her dress.
She bit her bottom lip awkwardly, then quietly reasoned, “Maybe it was time we headed back home, anyway.”
You looked up from the floor and met her eyes with a little nod and a polite smile.
But neither of you moved from your spots, and Wanda felt a familiar impatience and gnawing urge pulsing inside her again.
Wanda was right in her observations of you — you were rather shy, and a submissive lover. You were nervous and hesitant, and after kissing you, she was sure you’d been with women before. That excited her, and she heard her own soft trembling exhales through her parted lips as she observed the hesitant look in your eyes, anticipating her next move.
You were still nervous, Wanda could tell. 
So young and hesitant and innocent and polite…
All she felt then and there was that she needed your hands on her, and Wanda stepped forward again, kissing you with immediate heated passion as her hands ran up to the sides of your face, caressing you gently. 
Your hands came to her hips and you attempted to wrap your arms around her waist until Wanda stumbled forwards, pushing you into the back room where it was more spacious. 
“Mmm, Y/N…” she sighed into your open mouth, pushing your lower back against one of the counters in the back room.
Your hands were on her hips, slowly rounding to her lower back, but it was still not enough. She took hold of your wrist and brought your hand to her breast, and you squeezed as if partial to the feeling of how soft her breast was in your hand, mindful of the way her body arched into yours, her body pressed against your hips. 
She felt herself throbbing when your other hand found its way beneath her dress, groping her ass and even tucking two fingers past her underwear to feel the soft, pliable flesh beneath the fabric. 
“Ms Maximoff, is this okay?” you asked, your words trembling for how you spoke them between heated kisses. The hesitant tone spoken with your soft voice juxtaposed the way you groped her ass, and Wanda felt like she was already practically nearing orgasm.
“That’s just fine, sweetheart,” she replied, her fingers snaking down your jawline to hold your head in place as she tipped her head to the side and deepened the kiss. 
Your fingernails pressed into her ass and she gasped, her body tensing momentarily.
Your tongues briefly brushed against each other and at the sensation, Wanda couldn’t get enough. She ran the tip of her tongue over your teeth then delved past your lips. 
Warm exhales and breathy sighs echoed between your open mouths, meshed together in the exchange of saliva as your thumb tugged down the neckline of Wanda’s dress along with her bra so you could thumb at her hardened nipple, your other hand taking another handful of her ass.  
Wanda had never felt more sexually desired, your hands on her body making her feel that you were thoroughly exploring her out of deep interest and pulsing arousal. 
It was no obligation or passive act. 
It was desire and craving, and you wanted her. 
Then she felt the urge to have her mouth on your cunt, to feel you pulsating around her tongue, to feel your warm, slick folds against her lips. She wanted to taste how wet she made you and how badly you wanted her, to swallow your cum and have your flavour spread across her tongue. 
She’d never pleasured another woman before, but all she felt was hunger, so much of it that it was painful, and that desire surpassed any need for prior knowledge. 
In a few moments your thighs were wrapped securely around her head, Wanda on her knees beneath you as she noisily ate you out. The intermingled noises of her moans and the sound of your soaking pussy made your heart race. 
She was far messier and dominating than you’d initially imagined, and you could hardly catch your breath. Each moment you thought you’d caught up, she’d want more, grabbing at you, delving her tongue into your opening or rubbing her flattened tongue against your aching clit. 
She gripped at your hips, pulling you down onto her face so desperately you worried you might hurt her.
She opened her eyes and you saw her meet your gaze behind the mess of her dirty blonde hair, and you reached down and carefully brushed strands of her hair away from her forehead, revealing green eyes darkened by carnal desire.  
The way she stared at you sent chills up your spine, causing you to roll your hips forward and bump your clit against the tip of her nose. She looked wildly predatorial, her relentless tongue and hot breath paired with a melody of deep groans and light girlish moans almost animalistic. 
Wanda saw your hand reach down, fingers twitching in hesitation, before she interlaced her fingers with yours and brought your hand to the back of her head. She felt very literally… hungry — she craved you.
You nudged her mouth against your cunt and Wanda mewled in pleasure, feeling caressed as if she were being pet. Her hair was smooth, and feeling it now, you found she truly had thick hair and it wasn’t just the way she styled it in the mornings. 
There were a lot of things you were newly finding about Wanda, new ways of viewing and understanding her that would make her different from how you had understood her before. 
You’d never be able to see her without knowing how she looked on her knees, eating your pussy in her shop in the early evening, never being able to unfeel how her hands were firm and confident as they rubbed your thighs and squeezed your hips. But her fingers were delicate and careful, likely from her profession handling flowers. 
You knew her touch.
Wanda knew exactly when you came — she felt it first before she heard it with how your thighs were wrapped around her ears. She could feel you contract and begin to pulse against her tongue, felt the way your hips chased her mouth and how your hands grasped at her desperately. She knew you had reached your peak because it reminded her so much of herself, and she helped you through your orgasm and through its aftershocks as she had for herself during the times she had come to the thought of you.
She carefully licked around your cunt and your inner thighs, cleaning you up as she blindly felt for your pants and underwear before sliding it back up your thighs while you caught your breath above.
When she buttoned your pants you helped her stand up and you adjusted her dress for her. Wanda leaned flush against your body with a little smile, watching your face as you straightened her dress, feeling your gentle hands rub against her.
Then you met her eyes and wrapped your arms around her waist, returning a smile.
She leaned forward and kissed you chastly, just feeling your soft, warm lips against her own, one of your hands moving up her back and rubbing softly. 
“Was I good…?” Wanda asked a little nervously as she pulled away and looked at you. The tip of her nose brushed against yours lightly.
You nodded.
“It felt amazing…” you answered honestly, your fingers making shapes against her lower back through her dress. “I think, also, that I’m really attracted to you.”
Wanda laughed, feeling her cheeks heat up, and she buried her face in your neck.
After a moment, she added shyly, “That was my first time.”
Shocked, you turned your head a little to look at her but Wanda kept her face hidden in the crook of your neck and in the curtain of your soft hair. 
“I couldn’t tell,” you told her.
“Are you being sarcastic…?” Wanda asked, looking down to play with the ends of your hair. “I can’t see your face.”
“I’m not being sarcastic.”
Wanda blushed, uttering a small ‘Thank you’ before she raised her head, fidgeting with your shirt a little. 
“Shall I drive you back home now…?” she asked, looking up hesitantly.
You swallowed, feeling an ache of disappointment and longing at the thought of ending the night without getting to talk with Wanda more or even make her feel good. But if that had been her first time, she’d already done quite a bit.
You didn’t want to push her further or pressure her, so you nodded once silently in spite of how badly you wanted to be able to touch her too.
During the drive back, Wanda felt a dull ache behind her exhilaration, forcing her to admit that she was still not entirely satisfied. She’d underestimated the significance behind how much she fantasised about you, and how much desire truly went behind how strongly and how often she thought of you.
She nervously tapped against the steering wheel with her index finger and she bit down on her bottom lip.
“Was that…” She swallowed and carefully picked out the right words as she saw you turn to look at her from the corner of her eye. “Were you looking for… just a one-time thing…?”
Wanda couldn’t stop herself from turning and looking at your expression when there was perhaps a millisecond’s worth of silence after her question.
You felt a weight drop in your stomach and your fingers pressed against the flower vase sitting in your lap. 
How would you come off if Wanda had been looking for something casual and you told her you weren’t? You would look childish and naive and disrespectful of her busy life.
You considered lying or perhaps answering nonchalantly, but tonight was the first time she’d ever gone down on another woman, and you felt you owed her honesty.
And… after all, it was still Wanda. She wasn’t someone to be scared of.
As Wanda turned into the neighbourhood, you answered, “I want to be closer to you than that. I don’t think I would want something like that to be a one-time thing.”
Wanda took in a sharp inhale when her chest tightened and filled with adrenaline, and she squeezed her hands around her steering wheel. She pulled into her driveway and parked the car.
Worried about the silence that would come over the both of you if she turned the car off, Wanda kept the car running as she ran her hands down her thighs as she gathered her confidence to speak again.
She turned to you and felt her heart pounding against her chest, threatening to suffocate her, when you turned to meet her eyes.
“Would you like to come in?” she asked directly. 
Wanda’s hands laid in fists atop her lap as she regarded you, her posture straight and her shoulders rising and falling in tiny rhythmic motions as she steadied her breathing. From the dim lighting of her driveway from the light above her garage, you could see her eyebrows very slightly furrowed and her eyes gleaming with a nervous vulnerability, her expression patient and waiting for your answer.
You nodded once. 
You stuttered when you tried to speak, then tried a second time, uttering a tiny, “Yes, I’d like that.”
The motions of following behind Wanda as she walked up her porch and unlocked the front door were mechanical and you watched her from behind, wishing desperately to know what was running through her mind. 
There was a soft warm light coming from the living room that grew slowly brighter when the front door was closed behind you and your eyes adjusted to the gentle lighting of her house. This was the first time you’d ever been inside.
You looked around at the decor and the evidence of Tommy and Billy’s presence that remained even when they were with their father — their shoes were put away on a rack, some of their schoolwork on the small table by the front door, and their jackets hung on the coat rack. 
“Are you thirsty or hungry for anything?” Wanda asked, evidently a little nervous.
You saw her take a breath and hold it when you set the vase down on the table where she had placed her keys to hold her hand. “I want to be with you, Ms Maximoff,” you said sincerely.
She swallowed and squeezed your hand and gave a little nod.
“I want to be with you too,” she replied, a little smile coming onto her face when you seemed to respond positively to her answer. She led you upstairs and you walked up beside her for how nervous she still seemed, and so you wanted to be close with her rather than following behind. 
Wanda closed the bedroom door behind her and with the bedroom curtains left open enough to have the room illuminated by the evening, none of you turned any other lights on. She turned around to face you once she came to her bed, and her hands nervously came to the waistband of your pants, fidgeting a little.
“Are you nervous…?” you asked her quietly, stepping closer so her hands were caught between your bodies.
She looked up and nodded silently.
Then she said, her voice small, “What if I’m not good at this?”
You ached at her evident insecurity and unfamiliarity around being so vulnerable. 
Your hand reached up to brush her hair back and you kissed her temple and murmured, “Not good at what?”
“At… this — making you feel good and being close with you, and connecting with you. I’ve never felt…” Wanda’s breath trembled and she swallowed.
She took a little breath. 
“I really like you, Y/N,” she explained, her gaze falling to your shoulder and your body pressed flush against hers. “I want to be good at this…”
“No,” you protested softly and pulled your head back to look at her. “That’s not really how it works, Ms Maximoff…”
She explored your soft gaze, curious about what you would say but also caught up in how kind and patient your eyes were. 
“You don’t really know how to do these things,” you reassured softly, “you just feel it.”
Wanda has always known what to do with things, and if she didn’t, there was someone who did know. Her marriage was all about expectation and filling roles as parents and as spouses, and her life, more or less, was about living through a planned schedule, doing things in order to be good at them and doing them right.
Was it okay to mess up?
Was it okay for her to do something just because she wanted to? She’d never been well-acquainted with the feeling of wanting something for herself to begin with.
“Can you call me by my first name?’” Wanda asked. 
You nodded and smiled at the humour of her request. 
She smiled in return and blushed before stepping back and allowing her hands some room to begin taking your clothes off.
You laid Wanda onto her back once her dress slipped from her shoulders, revealing her smooth skin and the contours and curves of her body. 
Wanda felt extraordinarily sensitive to your every touch, unable to take her eyes away from the way your hands moved across her skin; it wasn’t enough to just feel the way your palms glided across her sides, your thumbs pressing into the contours of her obliques as you kissed down to her belly button, then her thighs, her calves, and her ankles when you bent her legs slightly moving back up her body — she had to see it too. 
“Can I take your bra off?” you asked, looking up at her.
Wanda nodded and guided your hands to her back where her bra strap was, her back arching from the bed to allow you some space. She felt a surge of nerves course through her stomach when you took her bra off.
It had been so long since she was intimate with anyone, and even longer since she was with someone she felt engaged with, but it was the first time she was with someone she was truly interested in and attracted to.
For the first time, with your eyes running over her naked body, Wanda felt insecure about herself in a way she hadn’t previously; she was much older than you, and she started thinking about the other girls you must’ve been with.
None of them had ever been married or had children, and Wanda suddenly felt a dread come over her, feeling that she and her body were less attractive because of her age and what she’d done that neither you nor your previous sexual partners had.
But in spite of her anxiety, what she worried about wasn’t indicative at all in the way you continued to kiss her and caress her.
Your lips wrapped around one of her nipples, your hand coming to massage her other breast, and Wanda’s head lolled to the side atop her pillow, overcome by the feeling of being ravished and spoiled. 
Then you moved up and began kissing her neck, and if you bit her, you did it softly, taking just a little of her skin between your teeth and nipping softly. She laughed breathily when you tugged at her earlobe with your teeth.
She loved the feeling of your weight on her body — a physical, tangible reminder of your presence, symbolic of how she had surpassed the period of fantasy and yearning.
“Get on your back,” Wanda told you, running the tips of her fingers down the curve of your spine.
While you adjusted your position, Wanda sat up and leaned over the edge of the bed and rummaged somewhere you couldn’t see. She sat back up and laid beside you, a translucent purple dildo in her hand. 
Heat immediately rose to your cheeks and you imagined Wanda rolling her hips into it, slowly slipping herself down, and moaning as she fucked the faux cock. You even dared to imagine she fantasised about you. 
“Can I use this on you?” she asked, holding it up for you to survey the size.
The very sight of Wanda holding a dildo in her hand, asking you for your permission for her to fuck you with it, her green eyes curiously exploring your expression, her naked body pressed against yours so her breasts brushed against your upper arm…
You had to blink a few times to make sure you weren’t just dreaming it all up, napping on the couch of your place before heading out to the festival.
Wanda moved closer and kissed your cheek. “I can be gentle with you,” she reassured. “If that’s what you’re worried about…”
“I’m not worried.”
“Really?” she asked, teasing, lifting her head to meet your eyes. “You haven’t said yes yet.”
You immediately nodded, heat rising to your cheeks.
“Is that a yes?” Wanda pressed, feigning curiosity with furrowed eyebrows.
“Y-Yes,” you practically choked out, stunned at her sudden display of playfulness. 
She leaned back to where she had reached down before and came back up with a bottle of lube. Placing the dildo between your hips, Wanda asked for you to lather it on, holding herself up beside you and kissing up your shoulder and neck as you pumped your hand around the faux cock.
“As much as you want,” she purred. “I want to make sure you feel comfortable.”
You shifted your positioning a little so Wanda could have a better range of motion. One of your legs was perched up and your legs were parted, and you were laying back against a pillow for just a little elevation.
“Tell me if it hurts or if I should slow down, okay?” Wanda asked, nudging the tip of her nose against your cheekbone softly. She was taken by the urge to take care of you, to keep her body as close to you as possible, to feel your bare flesh against her own.
She really did think you were so sweet and precious, and the urge to care for you came stronger than it ever had before. 
She wanted to make you feel good. 
“Is this feeling okay, Y/N?” she asked, her other hand rubbing up and down your upper arm. 
Your eyes were shut, allowing you to fully take in the scent of Wanda’s laundry and her hair and her perfume. The soft sounds of her little moans and noises as she made careful efforts to enter and tease you sent chills up your spine and made you throb. 
“Th-That feels really good, M–”
You corrected yourself: “Wanda.”
A little flutter resounded in your chest at the feeling of calling her by her first name — it felt so personal. 
“That’s good, Y/N,” she cooed softly. “You’ve nearly taken half. It’s a big stretch, huh…?” You hesitated to nod; it was a big stretch, but it wasn’t too much, and you didn’t want Wanda to stop. 
“But you’re a big girl, right…?” she asked, and you immediately opened your eyes at her wording and the soft coo of her voice.
“I- Yes, I… I am.”
You watched as Wanda took her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes running down your body as her wrist curled and twisted back and forth, each time slowly pressing further into you. Her forearm muscle flexed with each movement and you could hear her breaths begin to quicken.
“Can I confess something a little embarrassing…?” Wanda spoke after a few moments of intimate silence, and you looked up from her forearm to her face.
When you met her eyes with patient curiosity, she continued. “I’ve pleasured myself to the thought of you many times, but I’ve never used this,” she told you. “I suppose I couldn’t imagine you in its place. It feels far more fitting to hold it.”
Heat rose to your cheeks and your breath hitched.
Wanda’s eyebrows raised and you felt a slightly forceful thrust, causing you to whimper. “Did you like hearing about that? I pulled out just a little and you’ve made quite the mess around it…”
The way her eyes scrutinised you, the focus in her expression, made you feel like she was observing you in great detail, feeling that her interest was sincerely piqued as much as she was aroused.
Then, with one more thrust, you felt the coolness of Wanda’s fingers pressed against your warm folds, and you knew she was entirely in. 
“Does that feel good, Y/N?” she asked, settling herself more comfortably beside you so she was sitting up, your head lying in the crook of her neck. Her arm was wrapped around your head with her elbow keeping her up, her hand stroking your head softly.
You felt like you were struggling to get words out with the size of Wanda’s cock inside of you, along with the gentle and tantalising way she entered and pulled out. She was practically cradling you against her as she maintained steady motion, and you felt as if you were being babied.
“Th-That feels really good…” you mumbled.
“Oh, I’m so glad, sweetheart…” She began petting the side of your head and you mewled.
You watched through hooded eyes Wanda’s focused expression as she continued her soft thrusts, the positioning of your bodies making the act look almost masturbatory with how your bodies laid together, meshed.
“I had a feeling this would be the pace you preferred, Y/N,” Wanda said, her voice a soft mumble, her voice now sounding raspy with how low she was speaking. “If I’m honest… I thought a lot about what kinds of things you might like… I always enjoyed thinking that you were a careful lover, and shy…”
Even though she spoke at a hushed volume, you could hear her soft laboured breaths from her stern efforts to keep her arm at a steady pace, and often you looked down to see her forearm muscles flex subtly beneath her smooth pale skin.
“I thought about that all the time,” she confessed, a little moan passing her lips as the recollection. “I thought about how… polite and delicate you were, and your sweet smile and how kind you were to me. I thought that must mean you were quite accommodating in the bedroom, but I just wasn’t able to allow my mind to wander that far, thinking about what you might be able to do for me. I just kept thinking about what you’d let me do, and that soft little blush on your cheeks…”
She looked up at you and met your eyes. Hers crinkled at the sides when she looked over your expression, and when she smiled, the faint hints of dimples on either side of her smile made your heart skip about a dozen beats.
“The kind of blush you have right now…” she whispered. 
“I wish you could see how you look,” she added, and you could feel her speeding her thrusts up, a new desperation in her efforts as you felt her move closer to you. Her hips knocked against the side of your thigh and her hardened nipples grazed against your upper arm.
Her breathing became laboured, and you felt yourself in a trance just looking into Wanda’s eyes, feeling pressure steadily build between your thighs she quickened her pace. 
It was almost a little embarrassing hearing how wet you were, listening to how you stretched open each time Wanda thrusted her cock into you, and how you sounded when she pulled out, your tiny moans and whimpers building, seemingly encouraging Wanda to speed up.
“You look so cute, looking up at me, just waiting on what I’ll do or what I’ll say,” she said. “Do you feel cared for, baby…?”
Slender fingers brushed your hair out of your face.
“Y-Yes, I-”
Wanda interrupted you — not that you would’ve had anything very substantial to say anyways with how you started to speak and stutter without really knowing what you were going to say. “I knew it was wrong, fantasising about someone so young… But I couldn’t help it…”
She moaned softly and you could see her rub her thighs together just below your eye line.
Your eyes were beginning to flutter shut, for you were feeling the pressure in your lower stomach begin to coil, and you felt yourself tightening around the faux cock, suddenly sensitive to every noise and brush of Wanda’s hair against your skin.
Her arm unwrapped from around your head and Wanda suddenly leaned her head down and wrapped her lips around one of your nipples, causing you to moan out at the feeling of her warm tongue flicking over you, her teeth gently nipping at you before switching to the other.
“You’re doing such a good job, honey,” she reassured, trailing her kisses up to your neck and beginning to run her warm tongue up your skin. “So close, aren’t you?”
You nodded, trying to respond with intelligible words but only getting so far as a little whimper of affirmation. 
From beyond distracted hooded eyes, your eyes flickered between Wanda’s fafe and her soft breasts, still pressed warm against your upper arm. 
“You’ve gotten so wet,” Wanda purred, biting at the corner of your jaw. “My fingers are slipping from around the base; I have to keep readjusting my grip. It doesn’t help that you’re so tight…”
“If I had a cock of my own, baby, I’d have you on your knees, bent over with your face in the pillows…” she mumbled against your ear. “You’d be so tight and warm around me… You don’t know how wet it makes me to think about fucking a young thing like you… Hearing your little sounds and your pleas…”
Your eyes squeezed shut and you reached out to take hold of her hip. “W-Wanda, I’m-”
She moved her other hand down and interlaced your fingers. 
“Come for me, Y/N,” she cooed.
Wanda was entirely captivated seeing you come, feeling the resistance around her dildo as your walls squeezed around it, your body arching from the bed while you cried out squeezed her hand. You came on the very bed and sheets she had to the thought of you countless times before, but the way you came was different. 
It was more delicate than hers — from what she could recall from her own self-perception — your moans fluttery and broken into tiny whimpers, your body combed over with tiny tremors and involuntary twitches.
"That's a good girl," she whispered against your temple as you came, her other hand squeezing and stroking your shoulder. "Just like that, honey..."
She was careful when she pulled out of you, and couldn’t help but bring the dildo up to her lips and clean some of your mess off of it with her lips and tongue. Then she set it down somewhere on the bed and moved down to be able to wrap her arms around you, bringing your head against her chest.
Her arm that wrapped around the underside of your head stroked the side of your temple while she kissed your forehead, her other arm wrapped around your torso, rubbing your side soothingly.
After a while of Wanda rubbing your hip and your stomach, your upper arm, and anywhere she could reach while kissing your face gently, you caught your breath and cuddled close to her.
“I really do like you, Y/N,” Wanda said after the moments of silence. She pulled away a little to be able to look at your face in its entirety, and she smiled down at you softly. “I think you’re very kind, and very sweet. It’s really been a long time since anyone thought or cared as much about me as you do.”
Then she added, a bit shamefully, “I know it just sounds selfish, but over the last while since you moved here, I’ve been thinking of you quite a bit. And I was always very nervous to pursue anything, or even allow myself to feel anything like this for you.”
You didn’t want to speak up and interrupt her, especially since she seemed a little nervous confessing her feelings.
“Not only was it my first time regarding someone of your age in the way that I had begun to, but I think there were just a lot of things I was used to that I had to try to unlearn, and find confidence in diverging from.”
Then she looked away from your eyes and began fiddling with her fingers. Sensing her nerves, you squeezed her hand softly and rubbed your thumb against the back of her hand. Though she didn’t look back at you, she acknowledged your gesture and squeezed back.
“And there was also my age…” she hesitantly mentioned. “I felt… insecure, and unsure of myself, being how old I am and not knowing what to do. I felt… late to everything I was feeling for the first time, and thought that everything I was feeling was some desperate fantasy.”
Hesitantly, she met your eyes again, and looked relieved when you were already looking at her. 
“You have no idea how good and happy it makes me feel that you’re sincerely interested in me…” she told you, a tiny shy smile spreading on her face. “I’ve never felt this way before, even with Vision… and I feel really lucky to be able to be with you like this.”
A realisation suddenly came over you hearing Wanda’s confession — did she really think it was all luck? You had been so shy about everything that you had failed to tell Wanda much of how you felt and how you saw her, and it wasn’t even your first time with a woman.
“I mean… it wasn’t really luck,” you said, fidgeting a little with her fingers, which Wanda thought was really cute. “I did ask to drive you home and visit you and work and… asked to see you this weekend.”
“Oh. That’s right, isn’t it?” 
She looked like she had a moment of deep pondering as she looked off to the side. Then she looked down at you again and smiled. 
“I guess I just didn’t really allow myself to accept the possibility that you were doing it all because of that,” she admitted bashfully. 
You let go of her hand and brushed your fingers against her hip, drawing nervous shapes against her soft skin. “Can I touch you too, Wanda?” you requested. 
For a moment, she looked surprised that you would even offer; her lips parted and she blinked, before closing her mouth and nodding slightly. 
“What will you do?” she asked, curious and sounding a little insecure in a way that you couldn’t entirely understand. 
The two of you shifted positions and Wanda laid on her back, looking up at you with eyes that made your chest ache. She looked vulnerable and almost a little anxious. 
Being intimate with women wasn’t the same as being intimate with men — Wanda figured this quickly. It wasn’t the same kind of mutual pleasure, but rather, rooted in a kind of selflessness, a deep and involved desire to please the other without receiving explicit pleasure of one’s own. 
Sex with Vision and any of the scarce intimate encounters she’d had since her divorce all seemed rather mechanical — it wasn’t so much about desire and interest as it was about fulfilling a role and doing what you knew you were expected to. 
Vision hardly ever went down on Wanda, and she was never quite interested in asking him to nor was she interested in connecting with him in that way. 
It wasn’t that she held any bitterness or negative reservations about him that confined their sex to duty or seeing it as an impulse of nature, as in having sex as one would eat when one was hungry, or sleep when one was tired. 
It was more so that their marriage was not the kind to be seen as based on passion or desire; that hadn’t been how Wanda had seen him when they first met nor how he had seen her. 
The idea that anyone could desire her to begin with, but moreover that one could desire her selflessly, whose justification was solely self-determined desire, made her anxious and uncertain. 
It was, paradoxically, a selfish form of selflessness, where Wanda had only ever known duty and expectation. 
“What you did for me before,” you told her, now settled between her thighs, on your knees. “Is that okay?”
Wanda nodded, looking at you. She adjusted herself a little, but you settled her by placing your hands on either side of her outer thighs. 
You firstly moved up her body, making Wanda think that for a moment you changed your mind about all of what you’d said, but instead you started softly kissing her, laying your body flush against hers as Wanda’s legs parted before squeezing her thighs around your hips. 
Her arms came to wrap around your torso. She stretched her fingers out so she could feel more of your skin, feel the way your back arched and curved as you kissed her lips, then her cheeks and then her neck. 
“You’re beautiful…” you muttered, making Wanda open her eyes and turn her head a little to look at the way you had your face buried in her neck, your hair sprawled out a mess across her chest. 
“Your skin is so smooth, and you’re so warm when you hold me,” you said. 
All Wanda could do was whisper a small, “I like holding you, Y/N.”
You slowly descended back down, your palms running down her sides as if to hold the shape of her body and the frame that made it up in your hands, caressing her. 
You massaged her breast, making Wanda loll her head to the side and let out a soft moan, her own hand coming to the back of your head and tightening her grip when your lips wrapped around her nipple. 
Your tongue was soft and teasing over her hardened bud, and you sucked with a gentle force that wasn’t hesitant, but careful, treating her delicately. 
Her hand stroked the back of your hand with her fingers, gently massaging your scalp and readjusting her hand’s position often to keep combing through your hair. 
Moving further down, you pressed kisses to her stomach, beneath her breasts, down to her belly button, watching Wanda’s expression intently as you looked up at her. 
She looked beautiful with her eyes fluttered shut, lips parted as she sighed and made little noises of pleasure. 
You hoped she felt taken care of. 
Your fingers began tugging at the waistband of her underwear and you looked up to her, expecting Wanda to feel a little hesitant, but instead she breathed out telling you to take them off, even reaching down and tugging at them. 
Wanda’s heart raced when she felt your breath brush briefly against her pussy. A shudder ghosted across her skin and up her spine when your tongue flattened against her, pushing through her folds as your lips wrapped around her. 
Her thighs squeezed around your head and she shut her eyes; the gentle curls and prods of your soft tongue set her on fire, and the way you rubbed at her thighs, squeezing gently, made goosebumps run up her skin. 
She really was quite sensitive, for you could tell exactly how her body would react each time you dragged your tongue up her cunt, pressed against her clit, or secured your lips a little tighter around her. 
You were gentle and intentional with how you ate her out, and Wanda could tell obviously that you certainly weren’t as inexperienced as she was. 
When opened her eyes and looked down, she met your gaze and immediately felt that you were too far away, and she quickly came to prefer not to come without you much closer to her. 
She loosened the grip of her thighs and reached down, her hand coming to the side of your head. 
“I want you up here,” she said. 
You couldn’t exactly hear what she said, but you could tell she wanted you to stop, so you lifted your head and Wanda guided you back up her body.
Quietly, you asked, “Are you okay?”
“I want you with me,” Wanda told you, wrapping an arm around your torso and pulling you close so your chest was flush against hers. Her other hand found your wrist and she led it down between her thighs. 
You felt that you previously didn’t understand Wanda the way that you now did after being intimate with her. She was sensitive and a bit shy, and you hadn’t expected her to be so loving and attentive when it was your turn before. 
There were things like the way she squeezed her arm around your torso when your fingers entered her, sighed into your chest, her head tucked under the crook of your neck, and took every opportunity to keep her body pressed against yours, that made you begin to reshape how you saw her. 
You liked to hold her, to kiss the top of her head. You liked how she kept pulling you against her. 
“Is this okay?” you asked. 
She nodded quickly.
“Am I going too fast?”
Wanda shook her head. 
She felt warm and tight around your fingers, and you were beginning to feel a sort of intimacy feeling the way she squeezed around you, and how she fluttered subtly when she moaned and arched her back to adjust herself. 
“Say you want me, Y/N…” she whispered softly. 
You lowered yourself to kiss her temple. “I want you, Wanda,” you said. ”You feel so good around my fingers. You’re so wet.”
She whimpered, eyes squeezing shut again as she lolled her head to the side to lay against your chest. 
“You feel so warm,” you told her, lips brushing against her forehead. Her hand squeezed at your side. “I think you’re so pretty, and sensitive, and I want to take care of you. I want to make you feel good. I really… want to be with you.”
The words nearly made Wanda want to cry, and she lifted her head, meeting your lips in a gentle kiss. She’d never felt so much connection and longing for another person before. 
It frightened her, at the back of her mind, feeling the way she began to cling at you. It was only you who she’d felt all this for, and she wasn’t sure what she’d do if suddenly none of this worked out. She felt an overwhelming sense of passion, felt it as it filled her chest and forced her to take big breaths to soothe the feeling.
You sped up, mostly curious to hear how wet she was, and Wanda yelped a little, her back arching and pressing her stomach against yours. Her knee bent and she parted her legs further. 
You ran your eyes across her naked body, the way she was spread beneath you and clinging onto you, listened to her deep groans and little yelps and whimpers, watched her breasts rise and fall. 
When Wanda came she was much quieter than you were. She hugged herself close and cried out into the crook of your neck, her sweet-smelling hair filling your nose. Her other hand grasped at your shoulder, and you paid close attention to how she pulsed around your fingers. 
Suddenly her hand came down to wrap around your wrist, and she kept your fingers in place while her body shuddered with the aftermath of her orgasm.
Keeping your fingers deep inside of her and moving them not even a little let you feel her every movement while Wanda’s body slowly relaxed. She wanted to keep feeling you inside of her, just to feel that intimacy for a few moments more. 
Then she nudged your hand away on account of how tired she was to speak, and you carefully pulled your fingers out of her. 
As you looked at her beneath you and listened to her tired sighs and pants, you thought about how you’d seen Wanda as a woman on a platform for much of your time with her. Though you liked her and were attracted to her, you thought you’d always seen her and felt a little intimidated; she felt far away and greater, bigger, than your own life. 
But now she seemed sensitive and delicate, panting, her chest rising and falling, her body coated with a sheen of sweat, her closed eyes fluttering gently. She looked incredibly vulnerable, and in this state it was far easier for you to tell that it truly had been her first time with a woman, and with anyone she felt very interested in or close to in a while. 
You thought of her in more detail, your hand rubbing against her lower stomach, her own hand wrapped loosely around your bicep, her arm other around your waist. 
Wanda had been married and divorced before, she had children and a business and years of her experienced life that you hadn’t yet lived. It still remained true that there were things you didn’t quite yet know about her, and things that would always indicate a difference in your ages and experience, and a general difference in how you lived your lives. 
But in spite of all that, she had chosen to be here with you, and wanted you here with her. 
At the moment her cheek was pressed against your chest, and she adjusted herself and guided you so you could wrap both your arms around her shoulders. She intertwined your legs with hers and tucked her head beneath your chin. 
You wondered the kinds of things she must be thinking. 
The truth was that you wouldn’t know unless you asked or she told you, but sometimes even that wouldn’t be able to capture exactly the way she might feel — when words and language couldn’t bridge the gap of Wanda being unable to word how she was experiencing a romance and an affection that she hadn’t ever before. 
You thought a little about what Wanda said about her marriage before, and you wondered if you really made her feel seen and taken care of. 
You felt her breathing in your arms, listened to her soft inhales and exhales, held her body, and were the only one she wanted to be with and share this time with. 
“Can you sleep over, Y/N?” Wanda asked, lifting her head and meeting your eyes after adjusting her body to allow you to hold her more comfortably. She looked sleepy. 
You laid onto your side fully so your head was on the same pillow as hers. “Do you want me to?” you asked. 
She nodded. “Can you, please?”
“I’ll have to leave early in the morning since I live so far.”
A smile spread on her face and she nudged at your shoulder softly. 
“I want to stay over,” you then told her seriously, kissing her forehead and eliciting a little sigh of pleasure from Wanda. 
She said quietly, “I think I should get up and get ready for bed. I might still have a little makeup on.”
Before you could nod and ask if she had any clothes you could borrow, she sat up and looked at you. Her face was shadowed and her hair, now having lost the curl she had given it this afternoon, was a bit messy, and looked very soft.
You reached out to touch her hair, just to smooth some stray strands down, and make her face more visible. She tipped her face into your caresses, the back of your fingers brushing against her cheekbone.
While Wanda brushed her teeth and you were about to change into the pajamas she let you borrow, you suggested that you might shower together before bed. For most of the night there was minimal talking — not because you had nothing to talk about, but because both of you were far more occupied with just being together. 
Wanda’s hair was nice to feel when you lathered shampoo into it, and her fingers were strong when she washed yours. Her lotion smelled like the tiny whiffs you sometimes got around her but were certain wasn’t her perfume — it was her lotion.
On the bathroom counter were her earrings she sometimes wore and her glasses, and her makeup and face wash and hairbrush.
You liked seeing everything, and you liked being able to touch her whenever you felt, feeling your arms around her waist and being able to kiss her face and her exposed shoulders.
“Do you think… you’ll regret doing this?” Wanda asked quietly after some moments of silence while you laid together, the tone of her voice trying to communicate a space for you to be open and truthful with her. “You can be honest. It’s okay.”
You immediately looked over to her. She was on her side, her hand tucked under her pillow as she looked at you. The blankets were pulled up to her chin, making her look tiny. “No, not at all,” you told her. “I really want to spend more time with you, and I really like you. I’m interested in you.”
Then you wiggled a little closer to her so your knees bumped against hers, making her laugh at how you moved yourself into her personal space.
She wiggled close too until your noses were all but touching, and you could tell Wanda was trying not to giggle. 
“I want this,” you said. The serious tone of your voice sounded silly with how close you were to her face, and Wanda couldn’t hold herself back from laughing just a little. 
“Okay,” Wanda replied with a determined little nod once she stopped laughing. She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the sides. “Good. So do I.”
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Part 2 to how the group cannot fathom how you and Zuko are so close with your angel of a self and Zuko being... well, Zuko
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AN: OKAY! Look at me go, coming out with a part two. I think I might do a part two to some previous pieces of mine but we will see.
SO this is a part two, so you can read the first one here, it will give some context clues into this second part of the story (but can probably be read solo) : Part 1
Any who, ~2300 word count, enjoy :)
KIDDIE FREE ZONE
Good Friends
That's all you guys were. Good Friends. Zuko kept telling himself he had no reason to be so bothered by that statement, but he was. He didn't want to be just good friends, but you had given a better answer then he would have in your position. But now the Gaang has been flying for the past couple days and has given him lots of time for thinking. Especially having you for the majority of the time sitting with him leaning against his arm, grazing legs, as you were not shy to the general touch. You always seemed to start up the conversations with him, your way of speech held him in interest, but as already known, he never said much back, but always was happy to listen.
But ever since that last night of camp a few days ago he cannot let the thought go. Good Friends. He knew that the talks you two have, the moments you both cherish, and the secrets you two shared was enough of a connection to be more than just good friends, or at least in his mind it was. You two were absolutely glued to the hip, and seemed to be together, just without the title. Zuko was fine with no title, he would rather the group didn't know but for you two to have that clarity is what he was craving. He knew there were other things that were more important at the moment but it couldn't calm down in his mind. He had to know, he wanted to be together. Even if that became another secret you both shared he would gladly add it to the pile.
As the afternoon began to fall fast on the fourth day of travel, the Gaang was running low on rations and decided to hit the next market in the upcoming town. Upon arrival, Aang and Sokka grabbed Zuko to tackle their list as Katara and Toph grabbed you to get the remaining items. Zuko was hoping to buddy up with you but it would have to wait. As the group divided and conquered, Sokka was getting very nosy with Zuko about a certain someone. Zuko ignored all of his questions or what felt like more accusations. Meanwhile the girls had finished with their tasks and Toph had somehow gotten into a gambling match with the remaining money they had and won every time. You stood back leaning against a nearby wall smiling, not wanting anything to do with the situation but you weren't going to interfere either. You feel a brush against your shoulder and look up to see Zuko, you smile and greet Aang and Sokka. You ask how their huntings went and they all agreed it had gone well. Zuko looked at you and asked if Toph and Katara were seriously gambling the little money they had left. You laughed and were about to answer but before you could Toph came over with a large bag and tossed it at Zuko. He caught it effortlessly, and it jingled heavily. All of the boys eyes widened, and Toph said "We will be sleeping well tonight thanks to yours truly."
The Gaang walked around the town as the night grew darker and the many street lamps glowed near and far, Zuko's mind still buzzing with the taunting thought of good friends. Maybe he was over thinking it and there was already an unspoken agreement you two were together? Or was he being weird and obsessive? Or maybe you had a completely different view on all of it? Or maybe-
His thoughts were cut off by you linking your arm through his and pointing out the beautiful lights, from the shops, to concessions, to the fountains, to the groups of lively people. He looked down at you and for the first time, he wasn't really listening to you. He just looked at you, looked at your smile as if you knew this moment was made just for you. He would forever be in awe at how effortlessly you spoke as if you had already rehearsed it one hundred times. He feels your genuine happiness and spirit in your eyes as you look up at him and he wonders how you hold such grace through everything. All his thoughts left his mind as he looked at you and thought, yeah, that is my girl.
Once the Gaang decided to call it a night, you all looked for an Inn to stay at for the night. There was not much of an option in the small town, so you all entered the closest place and the lady at the front desk greeted you all with a warm smile. Aang went to talk with the lady and brought back a handful of keys. Everyone was confused as he handed everyone their own key and explained that they only had single rooms left for the night. Nobody really complained as everyone seemed they could use some time to themselves. Everyone shuffled into their rooms with quick goodnights, but before Zuko walked through his door, he looked over his shoulder at your direction, and there you were. Walking into your room and almost as if you felt his eyes you looked over your shoulder and stopped for a moment, you smiled at Zuko and gave a small wave of goodnight before stepping into your room and closing the door. Zuko's eyes stayed on your room for a moment longer, before a small tap on his shoulder made him spin around. It was Katara. Zuko was lost for words. Katara smiled and whispered "I won't tell, not that is isn't already so obvious, but you should really talk to her." Before Zuko could respond to her she waved goodnight and walked into her room. He stood in the hallway like a man who was shot and was too afraid to move. He looked back at your door, he felt the longing in every part of his being to just go and knock on your door and say everything he has been thinking just like you do. How you so effortlessly say exactly what you're thinking, that is what he wanted to do. He wanted to tell you what it meant to him to have someone like you become so close to someone like him. He wanted to tell you that the secrets you both shared with each other meant the world to him and he would take them to his very grave if you wished so. He wanted to tell you that every time you smiled it felt like it was for him and him only. But he didn't. He walked back into his room and shut the door.
Zuko got ready for bed and laid down for a few minutes, he tossed and turned and his chest felt so heavy. He let out a sigh as he laid on his back and placed a hand on his chest with the other one behind his head. He stared up at the ceiling. Zuko let out a small grunt of frustration when he got up, deciding to go get some water. He grabbed the bucket from the small table in the room and walked towards the door. Zuko grabbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation and pulled his hand down his face, he went and opened the door and to his complete shock, there you stood. You looked almost as surprised as he did. You both stood in silence for a moment, and for the first time, Zuko spoke first. He asked if you were alright, because the last thing he expected was for you to be standing at his door in the middle of the night. You replied softly, saying you were ok, just had a lot on your mind. You noticed Zuko holding the bucket for water and offered to go with him to fetch some, he agreed. This time you both walked in silence to retrieve the water and walked in silence back to the rooms. You both came to stand outside Zuko's room and he asked if you were sure you were ok, and you replied that you were, probably just over tired. Zuko looked at you and asked you if you wanted to come into his room. You smiled softly and insisted you didn't want to intrude. He didn't respond and just motioned you inside, you accepted and walked in, Zuko shut the door behind you.
Zuko grabbed the ladle and poured you some water while you sat on the bed, he handed you the cup. You smiled and thanked him as you grabbed the cup and took a sip. Zuko sits next to you and rests his elbows on his thighs and looks down between his knees to the floor, he's not sure how he wants to go about tonight. He has no idea where to start, no idea how to talk or truly express his thoughts. He worries about sounding like a bumbling fool compared to your angelic soft spoken way of words. But before he could think further, the bed shifted and you were now directly beside Zuko with your head leaning on his shoulder. He looked up and he knew he wanted this, he wanted to be the one to call you his. He wanted to be by your side every step of the way and watch you regain the pride of being a fire bender. He wanted to have you by his side helping him with the path of change after the comet, and he didn't want to do it as good friends, he wanted to do it together. Zuko took in a deep breath, and asked "Do you really think we are just good friends?" and without a breath missed you replied "I knew your ears were on fire that night." you sat up with that comment, Zuko smirked and chuckled, you two were very close now, mere inches from each other's faces. "But no..." you replied, "I don't think we are just good friends, do you?" Zuko looked into your eyes, they seemed to shimmer the most beautiful shade of amber even with the liminal lighting in the room. "I don't think so either." He replied. Zuko saw your eyes dart to his lips and back to his eyes but the second your gaze connected back with his, he was already pulling you into a kiss. He put his hand just under your ear, along your jaw, pulling you in gently, as if giving you an option to back out. But you didn't, you leaned in and placed your hand on his arm and you kissed deep. Zuko lavished in this moment and if there was any way he could pull you in even closer he would. You pulled away first and looked at Zuko, he looked at you with so many emotions, "We are together." he stated. You smiled so wide and nodded, for the first time you were speechless and practically tackled Zuko to the bed, kissing him so deeply while he gladly reciprocated with the same action. You were straddling Zuko as he effortlessly flipped you over on the bed so he was now on top, you placed both your hands on his jaw and leaned up to give him a small kiss and then laid back down. "Would you stay with me tonight?" Zuko asked, you smiled, "Of course I will, I thought you'd never ask." Zuko rolls his eyes and leans down for a kiss but you halt his actions by asking, "What about the others, they will see me leaving your-" Zuko cuts you off with a soft kiss and after responds "I don't care, they can make their own assumptions." You smile so happily and nod your head, "But, they are going to ask questions-" you started but again Zuko cut you off before you can overthink, "So answer them however you want to, however you feel is right." He leans down and kisses you so romantically, and moves to your cheek, and down to your jaw, and making his way to your neck, you let out the smallest gasp. You could feel tingles all throughout your body, from your fingertips to your toes. This was the moment you were both waiting for, Zuko knew this is what he wanted, he wanted you now, tomorrow, the day after that, the months that follow and the years to come. You were his as much he was yours. He gave himself to you that night as you gave yourself to him. Both vulnerable to one another, savouring each movement, each touch, every breath you both shared. The night was exactly what you both wanted, it was what you both needed.
The next morning Zuko woke up with you laying on his chest and his arms wrapped around you. Both of you spent the morning getting ready and just smiling at each other, no lingering feeling or questions of what ifs. You could both just be together.
It was time to check out and continue the journey, so you both gathered all your belongings and walked to the door. You both stopped and you looked at Zuko, "They are going to ask." you stated, and Zuko looked right back at you, "Then answer." he replied. He opened the door and the Gaang was waiting in the hall. Katara was the first to see you both exit and she tried to hide her smile with a polite hand, the others turned to look and were caught a blank. Zuko shut the door with you standing by his side. You greeted everyone and you both walked towards the group, "What are you all staring at, let's head out." Zuko said so nonchalantly, everyone stood in silence for a second longer and proceeded on like nothing happened.
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propertyofwicked · 5 months
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WAS IT REAL? - LN
lando is at risk of losing his job if he doesn't clean up his image, and his best friend needs a way of travelling the world. they come up with a flawless plan - which could not possibly go wrong, right?
based on this request! (i went a little overboard im sorry) ✧ my inbox is open! ✧
warnings - fluff, angst, small allusion to smut at the end - fake dating to lovers hehe. also, 5k words??? who am i?? (writen BEFORE the miami gp!! i needed a few days to recover lol)
the song inspo for this got removed from spotify but it is based on "was it real" by ben rodrigues <3
masterlist the playlist
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✧ tell me was it real...
...or was it just pretend? ✧
“and now i’ve had zak sit me down and essentially said ‘we don’t hire slags’”
“he said that your recent behaviour was causing concern for mclarens image - not that you were a slag, lan.”
“same thing,” he argued, ”i’m 24 for gods sake, if i want to speak to women in a nightclub that shouldn’t be any of zak’s business.”
“i think it became his business when someone filmed you, in your mclaren, having what im sure was a lovely conversation with the girl sat on your lap,” she teased back, emphasising her words slightly. he huffed at, crossing his arms over his chest as he leant back into her sofa.
lando had walked into her flat 20 minutes prior, as he had hundreds of times before, threw himself down on her sofa and launched into a long rant about the meeting he had just come from.
since he was at the woking offices, zak had taken the opportunity to discuss the several occasions in recent weeks where lando had been caught in predicaments with multiple different women. when he finally left, zak’s ultimatum ran through his brain on a loop as he drove to one of his closest friends houses.
“clean your image up, or we’ll have to reconsider the possibility of you having a seat next year.”
“it sucks, lan, but i really don’t know how i can help you here,” y/n told him, moving a stack of research notes to the table before sitting cross legged next to him so that her body faced his.
y/n l/n was a newly graduated environmental researcher, who was taking a year out to decide what kind of work she wanted to pursue. she needed to travel, see the world, and experience all elements in her field before she could make that decision - but travelling was expensive and she could not afford to be in anymore debt after university.
“i have an idea,” lando announced, the realisation of what he was about to propose never really settling.
“that’s never good,” she joked.
“no, no hear me out -” he started, “i need to look like a man in a stable relationship, you need to see the world.”
“yeah? so?” she questioned, confused as to where he was going with this.
“look, it’s ok if you say no. i’m just saying - you could pretend to be my girlfriend and use the opportunity to travel the world and research your little bugs.”
“i don’t know, that seems a bit…deceitful?” y/n replied, yet the idea mulled in her brain more than she wished.
“just a few public appearances. you come with me to my races and use it as a research opportunity. maybe stay in monaco with me for a bit? let people film us being domestic and that?” lando replied, stuttering as he tried to think of more reasons - truly, he had started talking before he’d really thought it through.
“it’s tempting,” she replied slowly, “and for the last time lando, i do not study bugs, i study the environments they live in.”
“all expenses paid, travelling the world, looking at trees across the world,” he added teasingly, “- and all you have to do is hold my hand in public,” he finished, trying to summarise the arrangement.
“ok.”
“ok?”
“yeah, what’s the worst that can happen?”
✧ tell me all the places that you wanna see...
....i can take you all the places that you've never been ✧
the two of them fell easily into a natural act, almost gaining a sixth sense for cameras and fans and reaching for each other. it started small - a hand on her back, standing close to each other, being seen arriving and leaving together. but it hadn’t been enough, many pointing out that y/n had been at races and stayed with him in monaco multiple times, and concluding the two were still, just friends.
so they upped the ante. lando began holding her hand when they walked anywhere together, kissing her forehead lightly as they both pretended to be clueless to the snapping of cameras. at the last race, y/n had spotted a reporter and made a quick decision to tug at lando’s fireproof, pulling him down and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
“that’s new,” he had told her, laughing lightly, but keeping his hands firmly on her waist.
“camera,” she told him, smiling up at him as he nodded.
and lando kept up his end of the deal, the two of them using the week of the australian grand prix to visit the great barrier reef.
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their plan was working - the two were elated that people were finally putting the pieces together and believing the two really were together. even zak began to notice the positive effect y/n had on not only his image, but lando’s entire life.
“say y/n,” zak started as he walked up to the woman, “you work in environmental protection, don’t you?”
“i guess you could say that,” she responded, too tired to correct him, and slightly startled that he’d approached her as she sat minding her own business in the garage before the race began.
“we’re doing some work with the barrier reef group and oscar in a few days - would you consider being a sort of environmental advisor? just tell oscar a few things that he could talk about for the project?” he asked her assertively, smiling as her eyes widened at the request.
“i’d love to! but im supposed to be flying back tomorrow. let me ask lando later and ill get back to you?” she replied.
“sure,” he replied, smiling at her again before returning to his job. she was filled with excitement, it wasn’t often that she got to talk about her degree, and being able to contribute to a project of this scale was an amazing opportunity.
and her excitement only continued throughout the race, a feeling she always got watching lando compete, but overwhelmed when he cross the line 3rd. y/n ran round to join the rest of the mclaren team at the pit lane, watching as the podium cars pulled in and the drivers hopping out to celebrate with their teams.
lando climbed out, removing his helmet quickly before turning, scanning the crowd for y/n, and half sprinting when he spotted her. later, he would celebrate with his team, but for now he ran to her, pulling her in closely as he pressed his lips hastily to hers, pulled in closer by her hands cupping his jaw. when they pulled away, he kept her close to his embrace.
“im so proud of you,” she told him, smiling as he bent down to kiss her again, before rushing off to join his team.
y/n tried so hard to push away the feeling rising in her stomach - she didn’t like him like that, it was just the excitement of watching her friend succeed. so she ignored it, the same way she pushed away the feeling she got every time he calls her angel, even when they were alone.
im only here so that he keeps his job she reminded herself.
lando was distracted - he got podium, he was excited, his team were celebrating. yet he couldn’t help but let his thoughts linger to that feeling that shot through his veins when he’d kissed her. the same feeling he got every night, when she wrapped an arm tightly around his chest as they fell asleep.
she’s only here for research opportunities he told himself.
“im so proud of you,” y/n told him later that day as they left the track. wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him in to a tight hug, his arms falling naturally to hold her waist close to him. lando risked everything in that moment, pulling slightly back to look at her, before pressing a kiss to her lips.
“camera,” he told her, feeling her hesitation. her smile fell slightly before she leaned up to kiss him again. of course - the cameras, that’s why he kissed me she thought to herself, saddened slightly at the realisation.
there was no camera. they were totally alone.
✧ colours of the sky in your eyes
...fragments of the truth in your lies ✧
lando felt alone, his apartment felt so empty without her. he was happy she had the opportunity to stay in australia and do what she loves, but he couldn’t help but dwell on the flames igniting inside of him when he saw the videos of her and oscar together. it wasn’t jealousy, he told himself, he just missed her. after spending the last few months in close proximity, it made sense that he missed smelling her perfume around, or hearing the way her voice travelled through his brain.
y/n had a calming effect on him, and right now, lando was anything but calm.
which is why he found himself going back to his old ways, in a club, surrounded by women he wouldn’t remember the next day. he was too gone to remember that people with cameras tend to follow him around, capturing his every move in 4k - and he was far too gone to realise that publicly he was in a relationship, a relationship that should not include him leaving a club with a blonde.
and of course, y/n had seen the images blasted over twitter, headlines titled “cheating scandal?” consuming her entire feed. it was hard to remind herself that this thing between her and lando was not real, it was all pretend. and no matter how many times she told herself that fact, y/n couldn’t help but feel jealousy consume her entire existence.
the flat had never felt so awkward than the week before their flight to japan for the next race. she had returned a few days after the incident, lando greeting her at the door with a tight hug and a kiss to her forehead, but something was off.
“you have fun?” he asked her offhandedly as they moved to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water for himself.
“i did,” she said with a smile, though her tone held malice, “did you?”
lando’s hands stopped opening the cap of the bottle as he breathed in sharply.
“the fuck does that mean?” he replied, his tone harsh in defence.
“i was just asking if you had a good time, lando,” y/n answered, “she looked pretty, your type.”
“nothing happened, y/n,” lando told her, his voice sounding almost guilty.
“it’s ok if something did happen - we aren’t actually together,” she assured him, even though she could feel the jealousy bubbling up inside her again, “can you just be more cautious next time? im not sure i enjoy being told i deserved to be cheated on every time i open twitter.”
“im sorry, y/n, i am. i dont know what i was thinking,” he apologised, his eyes still softening with his guilt.
“clearly not a lot,” she tutted, before moving to take her bags to her room.
the rest of the week followed a similar vibe - the two of them barely spoke if they didn’t have to, making a few affectionate public appearances to show the world that their relationship was as strong as ever… oh the irony y/n thought every time she saw something dismissing earlier lando’s actions. however, by the time they flew out to japan, the friendship between the two seemed to have recovered - lando had almost sighed in relief when he saw her smile at him again.
“where you off to today?” lando asked her, pacing around the hotel room as he packed his bag for the day.
“the marina,” she replied, smiling as she pulled her coat on, “looking at the fish.”
“gross.”
“what time is qualis?” y/n asked him, ignoring his statement.
“uhh…3 i think - but you should try and get there by 2?” he told her, glancing down at his phone to see the current time. lando strode over to her, cupping her face lightly as he pressed a quick kiss to her head - this was becoming second nature to him, and she wasn’t sure how he felt about it.
“perfect!” she replied, trying to stop the nervous blush rising her face, ignoring the way her stomach flipped, “ill be there,” she added before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek and leaving the room. the moment the door closed, lando’s hand raised to touch where she had kissed him, smiling fondly at the thought.
he was utterly and truly fucked. how had he let himself fall for her? how could he continue to pretend to love her, when he really did?
y/n spent the rest of the morning in a similar state of panic, mentally shutting down at the prospect of loving lando and knowing he’d never feel the same. she hadn’t even intended to leave him today, but found herself quickly googling anything for her to do the moment she woke up with his arm wrapped tightly around her stomach and his head resting on her back. y/n needed space, she knew she couldn’t keep up their little act when her heart was slowly shattering every time he kissed her for the cameras.
so caught up in her own thoughts, she didn’t realise the time until it hit 2pm and she was stuck at the marina, desperately trying to find a taxi to get her to the track. and when she finally made it, y/n wish she hadn’t bothered.
lando was pacing angrily, talking under his breath as he checked his phone constantly - he only had 5 minutes before he needed to go down to the garage and get ready for qualifiers. the door slid open, and y/n walked through - ready to spurt out her apologies - but she stopped suddenly, sensing the anger looming in his room.
“where were you?” lando asked her, trying to keep himself calm, though the race nerves mixed with his temperament made that quite difficult.
“im sorry lan, i lost trac-”
“lost track of time? found something more interesting to do? save it, i don’t wanna hear your excuses,” he argued back, interrupting her with his ever loudening tone.
“you’d know all about ‘finding something more interesting’, wouldn’t you,” y/n replied, her own voice raising to meet his. if there’s one thing y/n will do, it’s stand up for herself, even when all she wanted to do was kiss him. dont kiss him, hit him she told herself.
“fuck you,” he spat, shoving past her to leave the room.
“at least im here!” she shouted back down the hallway, desperate for the last word
y/n stayed in the room for qualifiers, trying to stop the tears running down her face before lando returned. she hoped his anger was only heightened by his nerves, praying that after securing P3 he would return as his normal self, laughing and joking with her. in a strange way, she wanted cameras on them, she wanted him to be affectionate with her - she needed him to comfort her.
the woman walked nervously down to the garage, hoping to catch him quickly before he had to run off for media duties. maybe now he had secured a solid start position for tomorrows race he would be more willing to have a mature, sensible conversation with her.
or not.
lando spotted her immediately, pulling her arm quickly to lead her round to a secluded area outside the garage. he wasn’t angry at her, he was angry at himself for letting it get this far. he was so irritated, he couldn’t even spare a moment to see the fear in her eyes as he took in a deep breath.
he wasn’t angry at her, but he didn’t know how else to express his overwhelming emotions.
“what do you want? make it quick, ive got media to do,” he snapped, letting go of her arm as they stopped walking. she rubbed at it, her skin still burning from his tight grip.
“i just wanted to see you lan, congratulate you,” she replied softly, biting back tears once more.
“oh now you want to be here to support me?” he breathed out, crossing his arms over his chest.
“what does that mean?”
“i let you come with me to help with your career, and yet you can’t even turn up to support mine. i knew you were selfish but thi-”
“selfish?” she argued, trying to keep her voice low, “me? selfish? i haven’t got enough fingers to count the amount of times you’ve missed my important things because you were busy with your career. and have i complained once?”
“well no but-”
“but nothing, lando. i can’t even pretend to love this version of you,” she ranted, her anger being overcome with sadness, “you know what? fix your own reputation - or don’t. i don’t care what or who you do anymore,” she finished, turning on her heel and storming away from him.
he wanted to follow her, he wanted to hold her close as he apologised. lando knew he was being selfish, he knew it wasn’t fair to string her along under the pretence of saving his career. he knew he could no longer pretend, not with her and not with the public. lando needed her in every sense of the word. but duty calls, so he settles on dealing with this later, sitting her down and telling her the truth, even if it had the potential to destroy their friendship - he figured he couldn’t make it any worse.
but y/n isn’t at the track when he finishes up for the day, and she’s not at the hotel when he returns - and neither are her belongings. lando checked his phone repeatedly, messaging her desperately.
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he fell to the bed, head in his hands as he tried to regulate his breathing.
she was gone, and it was all his fault.
✧ i know that you're perfect for me
…tell me that you're sorry
…won't you please just take my heart again ✧
it took a few weeks for lando to finally stop messaging her, though y/n noticed an increase in visits from max, their mutual friend, under the guise of “just checking in” on his childhood friend. y/ wasn’t stupid, she knew who was behind max’s sudden interest in her wellbeing. but max was stupid either, he knew why the two of them had taken this fall out so hard.
“you did what?” max shouted in shock.
“i asked her to pretend to be girlfriend so i could keep my job,” lando sighed, hiding his face in his hands.
“you’re stupid.”
“i know.”
“in what world was that ever going to end well?”
“the world where i didn’t realise i actually do fancy her?” lando replied quietly, questioning his own admission.
“im so stupid,” max replied.
“how are you the stupid one here?”
“stupid for believing the two of you had finally worked out what has been right in front of you since we were 13.”
lando was desperate. he needed to talk to her, he needed to tell her how he felt - but for now, he settled with knowing she was ok.
“she’s alive and healthy - and she had pizza for lunch,” max told him over the phone, growing tired of this weekly routine the two of them had started.
“but she’s doing ok, right?”
“she’s good, lan,” he reassured, neglecting to tell him the part where she cried on him about losing her best friend over a trivial, child-like crush.
“but…?” lando asked, sensing there was more.
“but - she still doesn’t want to talk to you.”
“i could’ve guessed that one, thanks mate.”
“hey dont get mean with me - im just doing what you asked.”
“i know, sorry.”
“don’t apologise to me, find a way to fix this you muppet.”
y/n was not ok, spending most of her nights alone, scrolling through social media seeing the rumours about her and lando’s supposed split - “she’s wasn’t at the race” “i saw her leaving suzuka crying” “he looks so sad in interviews”. why do they care so much? but they aren’t wrong, she thought.
she began looking for a job, but nothing seemed as exciting as the work she’d done with mclarens environmental programme - which seemed to no longer be an option. unbeknownst to her, mclaren also loved the work she had done with them - her presence was greatly missed in the garage by many, especially those on the receiving end of lando’s current outbursts.
y/n’s phone lit up the entire room, the notification cutting through the silence of her room, breaking her away from her own thoughts.
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-
y/n was still convinced this was a trick, luring her to miami under the pretence of work so that oscar could push her head first into a trap. the thought stuck with her throughout her plane journey, as she checked in to her hotel, even up to the moment she knocked on oscar’s door to discuss the project. she was waiting for lando to appear, push her into a locked room and force her to talk to him.
“…’but if i talk to him, ill end up telling him why i ran, and how i feel about him, then he’ll reject me, laugh in my face and im back to feeling sorry for myself,” she told oscar, having finished giving him the run down for their project, and allowing the conversation to move to the elephant in the room - what had happened between her and lando.
“im sure that’s not true,” he replied, feeling sad for the girl in front of him, though he already knew most of the story from hearing lando’s self-destructive rants.
she opened her mouth to responded, but was stopped by a sharp knock at the door.
“oscar? are you ready to go?” a familiar voice called from the other side, sending y/n’s blood cold, her eyes widening in panic.
“what the fuck, oscar?” she whispered shouted, feeling betrayed.
“i didn’t know he was coming y/n, i swear, i’d never do that to you,” oscar reassured her truthfully, although slightly beaming as a plan formulated in his head, “stay there, ill tell him to meet me downstairs.”
oscar stood, moving to open the door slightly.
“hey mate - just got some things to sort out, ill meet you downstairs in 15?”
“sure,” lando nodded, turning to leave, but not before his eyes drifted into the room, spotting the same pair of flowery vans that had spent months sitting in his hallway. y/n’s vans.
lando walked down to the lobby, taking a seat as he waited for oscar, his mind consumed with the fact that y/n was here, in miami, in his hotel. why was she here? why hadn’t she told him? was she still avoiding him?
“he-”
“where is she?” lando interrupted the australian the moment he approached.
“’hi oscar, are you ready to go?’ would’ve been my response but ok,” oscar replied.
“where is she, oscar?” lando continued, determined.
“she doesn’t want to see you.”
“i know,” he replied bluntly, “why is she here?”
“y/n was invited to join mclaren as an advisor on a new climate video,” oscar gave in, replying as professionally as he could - he wasn’t here to discuss their ‘breakup’.
that’s a lie, he’s pretty sure zak asked him to do another environmental video purely to suggest that he contacted y/n to be an advisor. and he’s absolutely certain that zak, equally as fed up with lando’s attitude, was looking for a reason to bring the two back together.
“who invited her? where is she staying?” lando quizzed him as they walked towards the car, doubting he’d even get an answer.
“zak invited her, he appreciated the work she did for us in australia,” oscar replied, ignoring his second question. lando hummed in response, if oscar wouldn’t tell him, he would find out for himself.
it was only a press day, so lando split from his teammate and began his hunt for zak brown. it wasn’t hard, the man was wearing bright orange and had a laugh that could be heard for miles.
“hey zak,” he started.
“hey lando, what can i do for you?” zak asked, glancing at his at a text on his phone quickly before giving lando his full attention.
“how are you?” lando asked hastily, beginning his attempt to bombard his boss with questions till he slipped up.
“im good.”
“what are you doing today?”
“just going over some things with the team.”
“what do you think the weather will be like on sunday?”
“war-”
“where’s she staying?”
“the marriot i-” zak replied, pretending to stutter as he answered, feigning shock at accidentally revealing the hotel.
“thanks zak, love you,” lando called out as he jogged out. zak smirked to himself, replying to oscar’s message.
z → mission complete.
o → you made sure it looked like an accident, right?
z → jesus oscar i just told him the hotel name i didn’t kill him
of course lando couldn’t leave the track immediately, he had a job to do first. but the moment he became free for the evening, he was off, arriving at the hotel in record time. there were many cons to being a recognisable face, but a pro of being so famous was a hotel receptionist who barely batted an eyelid as lando demanded to know the room number of y/n l/n.
his knuckles rapped on the door quickly, his heartrate beating rapidly as he did. this could go so many ways, and most of them were not good. the door swung open, his eyes coming to look at the woman in front of him - she looked good, but she looked different, like something was missing.
“lando? what are yo- OSCAR!” she called out, turning to look back into the room, the door widening as she did revealing his teammate sat at the desk, “did you do this?”
“not me,” he replied, holding his hands up in defence. her head spun back around to look at lando, she was taking him in. he had a plaster on his nose, the curls were alive and well, and his everlasting tan ran the expanse of his skin. she didn’t want to admire him, but damn, miami was treating him well.
“go away i dont want to see you,” she announced suddenly, trying to shut the door but finding his foot blocking it.
“i know you don’t, but i need you to just listen to me, please. and then you can shut the door and never have to deal with me again,” he told her, pleading.
“oscar’s here.”
“actually, i should probably get going,” oscar announced moving to grab his stuff to leave. y/ns head shot back around, her eyes shooting daggers at him as if to say ‘dont you dare leave me alone with him right now’ to which he merely shrugged and walked out.
lando closed the door behind him, moving the two of them back into the room - y/n sat down awkwardly on the edge of the bed as he remained stood in front of her.
“what do you need to tell me?” she asked him impatiently.
“y/n, these last few weeks have been hell for me. i know i hurt you, i said some horrible stuff that you really didn’t deserve and i will do anything for you to forgive me and move past this,” he said, pausing before adding, “i don’t know about yo-”
“oh, so it wasn’t you sending max to “check in on me” every week?” she interrupted, her eyebrows quirking with her accusation.
“you worked that one out then?” lando replied, laughing slightly, relief washing over him that she didn’t seem angry at him.
“it was so obvious! since when has max ever felt the need to check im doing ok ever? let alone every week?”
“i sent him because i care about you y/n. you weren’t responding to my messages, dodging my calls,” he told her, watching her smile slightly, a blush rising her face.
“so why are you here now?”
“look, this whole ‘thing’,” he started, waving his arms to indicate he meant whatever the two of them were doing, “it started as something purely to benefit the both of our careers. but i think somewhere down the line, it turned into something more. something that should’ve happened years ago,” he told her, his heart ready to beat its way out of his chest and jump out the window.
the two sat in silence for a moment, y/n mulled over his words in her head. this is what she wanted, wasn’t it? she wanted him to love her the way she loved him. so, why did she feel so apprehensive about letting him back in?
“i know you felt it too, y/n,” lando said again, not letting her thoughts distract her too far.
“feel,” she said bluntly.
“huh?”
“you said felt. i still feel that way about you lan.”
“then why won’t you let me in?”
“you said some really nasty stuff to me, lan. really horrible stuff that had me reconsidering my entire life. you’re lucky i even let you stay. why couldn’t you just be honest with me - instead of pushing me away?”
“i didn’t know how to,” he admitted, stepping closer to her, “if i had a time machine, i would take back everything i said. id go back and slap some fucking sense into myself.”
lando now stood directly in front of her, his thighs brushing her knees lightly as his hand moved to her face, wiping away a tear she didn’t even know what trailing down her cheek. his fingers tucked a lose strand of hair behind her ear before settling on cupping her jaw lightly.
“can you forgive me?” he asked her softly, thumb stroking at her cheek.
“it’s not all your fault, lan. i could’ve said something too,” she told him.
“please just say you forgive me so i can kiss you, you idiot,” he laughed out.
“forgiven,” y/n said quickly, her head tilting so that their lips met. it was familiar, the feeling his lips on hers, but this time there was a sense of urgency. a sense of love that was absent anytime they had kissed before. his tongue swiped at her bottom lip, desperate for more which she granted happily, as her hands moved to rest in his hair, tugging at the curls lightly.
“fuck, y/n. ‘missed you so much,” he moaned out, the grip on his hair sending his mind blank.
“missed you too,” she replied as he moved to kiss down her neck softly, “even if you were a bit of a dick.”
“let me make it up to you?” lando teased, nipping at the skin of her neck whilst his fingers toyed with the hem of her top.
“there’s a lot to make up for.”
“ive got time,” he replied, pulling the fabric away from her body fully. her hands reached out, grabbing at his mclaren polo to remove it as well, dropping it next to herself on the bed.
lando laid her back on the bed, hovering over her as he continued kissing down the flesh of her torso.
“y/n i forgot m-” oscar started, barging back into the room, “oh my god, ive been gone what…? 3 minutes? how have you already taken your clothes off?” he exclaimed with a laugh.
“fuck off!” y/n and lando called out in unison, lando reaching for his top and launching it in oscar’s direction.
“ok ok, im going,” he replied, raising his hands again in defence, “stay safe kids,” he added before leaving the room, his forgotten phone now in tow.
“kids?” lando muttered, “im older than him?”
1K notes · View notes
blackbyakko · 1 month
Text
In Defense of Vanessa
All of the peeps hating on Vanessa and Wade ‘a relationship in Deadpool 3 need to expand their imaginations a bit lol.
Do you think Vanessa, the woman who fought so so hard to keep Wades spirits up when he got his cancer diagnosis, whose after fucking DYING in the second film told him that he had to continue on living and supported him to live a good life despite her not being in it, and upon seeing Wade after he ghosted her and then showed back up looking SOOOOO fugly (he’s adorably fugly) and her first reaction was to look lovingly into this man’s eyes and say “That is a face that I’d be happy to sit on”, would just simply LEAVE him? Just like that???
Y’all, I think we saw a different film lol.
Almost everyone in Wade’s life, has either belittled him, or have actively shown their distaste for him known at some point (Peter, Yukio, and Dopender my beloveds, we’re not talking about you). Vanessa from the get-go, matched Wade’s freak. When we saw Wade’s flashback of their break up, Vanessa never said that she wanted to break up with him. We heard HIM Say that if she wanted to leave him to get it over with already. One of Wades biggest character flaws throughout the film has been that he pushes people away through humor and through insults because he is terrified of being vulnerable with them. Vanessa is the only person throughout the films that, even when he’s hurt, he lets himself be vulnerable around her, even post break up. Vanessa didn’t want to leave him, she wanted him to be a better version of himself, because he was wallowing, and not allowing himself to look beyond his insecurities.
Sometimes, doing things for ourselves, for the sake of bettering ourselves is not enough motivation. Wade was not willing to pick himself up and try to live up to his potential until Vanessa encouraged him to. I don’t think she cared if he ever became an avenger or not, but what she cared about was that he had all this potential and no direction and she could see how it was eating him up inside. Why is everyone else in Wade’s life around allowed to rude to him and tell him straight up he’s being a fuckhead, but Vanessa telling him he needs to pick himself up when he takes a knee or asking him to let her walk with him, and when he refuses to do so, wnd gives him some distance when HE PUSHED HER AWAY, makes her the bad guy. You could tell it hurt her when he asked if she was seeing anyone. And that handhold? She absolutely took him back lol. And that’s good! Deadpool is not someone who would sacrifice a loved one to save the world, he would sacrifice the world to save a loved one. And Vanessa is the same, being ride or die from the beginning, and I will not hear her name besmirched.
Also are you really going to tell me that she saw fucking WOLVERINE and didn’t turn to her man and say, “We’re tag teaming him right?” Or that she saw a free child in X23 and didn’t turn to Wade and say “We wanted a kid, so we’re adopting her right?”
Use your imagination people lol. Vanessa would be the first person to drag Wolverine and X23 into their family. She gets a hot new husband and a kid, Wolverine gets a hot new wife and a husband, and X23 gets a new mom and two dads. Everyone wins!
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k-hotchoisan · 8 months
Note
OKAY OKAY OKAY BUT YUNHO GRIPPING YOUR HIPS (I’m a thicker girl so I got thick hips let me live) PRAISING YOUR CURVES BUT BUT BUT ALSO MUTTERING MINE AND JUST BEING SUPER POSSESIVE AND SLIGHTLY DEGRADING and maybe tells you to open your mouth so he can 🗣️💦 (only if you’re comfy with that) BECAUSE SOMEONE KEPT BOTHERING YOU AND OOGLING IVER YIU AND YIU DIDNT GET IT AND WERE SO INNOCENT AND LET IT HAPPENED…..I’m not thinking about that at all. 😫
Alright, enough of San for now, I know some of y’all hotteoks are hungry for some Yuyu so I’m serving it on silver platter for you guys 🥳😛🩷
As always, enjoy! 🩷
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golden retriever
<Yunho x fem!reader>
Synopsis: “Do you get jealous?” You ask your partner one day. Well, you were about to find out.
Genre/warnings: dom & possessive!Yunho, dirty talk, slight degradation, oral (m & f receive), unprotected sex, cumming on face, cum eating, orgasms
Taglist:
@bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs
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Golden Retriever.
That’s what everyone seems to associate Yunho as—loyal, considerate, funny and especially so loving. You felt it first hand, even before the both of you officially started dating—him constantly making sure you were comfortable in a room full of mostly men (his friends).
And when the both of you became official, he let you do whatever you wanted—mostly with his arms constantly around you, and you chalking it off as him being clingy. Well, he is known well to be very affectionate, not that you were complaining, and he doesn’t get upset easily, at least, that’s what it seemed.
He was definitely a giver, and he’d cross over the fucking oceans to make sure you were content.
People have different sides to them, that was a fact you knew clear as day. But such a soft person like Yunho, definitely had another side to him right?
“Do you get jealous?” You ask out of the blue. Yunho blinks at your question, wondering what to even reply to that.
You’ve asked all his friends, and they were all pretty adamant that he’s not a jealous lover. It still did not deter you from poking the bear.
And you definitely got your answer when his demeanour completely changes at the sight of another fuckin male trying to talk to you. It started off as ogling your body from a distance. At first Yunho brushes it off—he’s being held hostage by Mingi at the moment near the bar. He doesn’t shift when the male strikes up a conversation.
Yunho simply watches you attempt to entertain this sorry excuse of a person.
And he slams the glass whiskey glass (god knows how it didn’t break) when he notices the way the male is brushing his fingers on your shoulder, and Mingi only surprises a smirk as he watches your boyfriend intercept the failure of an interaction this male tried to initiate.
You jolt slightly at Yunho’s sudden touch on your waist but for some fuck ass reason, introduce the male to Yunho, who apparently was your friend. Yunho barely keeps his face poker, forcing smiles while the male who Yunho does not even bother remembering his name continues to yaps his fucking head off.
Yunho’s annoyed. And he’s never really felt annoyed often.
The fact that you’re completely oblivious to it all makes all the more astounding, especially when your friend had almost touched your arm up while he was laughing away, and Yunho’s arms wrapped around you in the guise of pulling you away, which you thought was nothing more than just a gesture of affection from Yunho.
Half way through his yapping, Yunho, at the peak of his irritation cuts him off, telling you that he has to rush back for an important show he’s catch up on. A blatant lie that you or your friend never caught on.
Oh, but you soon do, when you reach home with Yunho and he has you carried bridal style right into the fucking bedroom.
Yunho has you sprawled on the bed, his fingers wasting no time to tug your bottoms off—including your panties. He’s in a rush to strip you bare for him. Your breathing is jagged despite you trying to calm yourself. Yunho’s lips are burning against your skin as he trails his lips from your sternum till he reaches your hips.
“Pretty curves. So perfect for me”, he murmurs, pressing soft kisses against your skin after every word that leaves his lips. Gasps escape your lips every time you feel him suck against your skin, leaving pretty love bites to bloom in his wake.
“Yu-“, you try, but you’re immediately cut off when he plants another hickey on your hips, a soft groan replacing what you wanted to say.
“Do I get jealous?” He asks rhetorically, crawling over to face you from above. He scoffs as he sinks his fingers into your mouth, swallowing hard when you take his fingers, licking and sucking with a glazed out expression. “What do you think?”
You’re barely in the right mind to process his question, even when he pulls his finger out of your mouth, and especially when he trails his soaked fingers right to your pulsating cunt, rubbing your clit in slow circles.
You grasp at any remaining sanity that remains, your mind swimming in the depths pleasure, ready to just plunge in any moment.
“N-no”, you answer, completely entranced by the way Yunho is staring right into you, lust dripping in his gaze, before your body jolts in pure bliss when he stuffs you two fingers full, your arms immediately wrapping around his neck.
“Not wrong, babe”, he smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes entirely.
“But I fucking hate it when people touch what belongs to me.”
There is a haze that’s clouding over your mind when he begins slowly pumping his long fingers in and out of you, the squelching sounds exposing how much of a dripping mess you are. You try to focus on his words, but barely anything is going through.
“And do you know what belongs to me?” He asks you again, his fingers now completely pulled out of you, leaving your cunt fluttering uselessly in the air. You feel like your heart is at your throat, threatening to jump out from the anticipation. You’ve never seen Yunho like this before, and it’s sending electricity through your spine, you feel goosebumps litter across your skin.
You choke on sob, your turn to swallow hard this time.
“Me?”
Yunho’s smile spreads across his face again, oddly calming, holding anything but hints of gentleness.
He’s not planning to let you go tonight.
He’s not planning to let you sleep tonight.
“Smart girl”, he hums, soothing his hands across your thighs, spreading them open, barely giving you any time to process before his cock pushes into your hole, fitting in all the way through despite his size. “But not smart enough to ask your little friend to fuck right off.”
Your mind blanks out, your breathing deepens in an attempt to accommodate his fucking cock that suddenly slid into you, another hard swallow as your thighs shake, and soft whimpers escape you. Yunho finds it all the more endearing watching you slowly fall apart right in front of him like this.
His good boy golden retriever personality is far from a facade, but there’s a sore spot in him that he does his best to ignore. And he does it well.
At least, up until now.
“And you’d best remember that, babe”, Yunho grunts, his thumb sinking into the corner of your lips, watching your eyes roll back as he snaps his hips against yours, making sure you feel the entirety of his cock filling you up to the brim, the sounds growing wetter by the second.
“-big”, you mutter, your body fighting against the pleasure, your eyelids barely holding up. His fingers press against the sides of your cheeks as he tilts your head to face him, your eyes watering slightly as you hear Yunho’s voice lulling you back.
“What was that?”
You don’t even hesitate, only feeling your thighs twitch whenever he slides his cock into you again, letting your words leave your mouth without even bothering to filter.
“You’re so fucking big. It’s so much. Fuck.”
Something in Yunho shifts, and he slows down in you, his cock decorated with glistening sheens of precum and cream when he pulls all the way out. You gasp at how empty you feel, about to whine at Yunho and your promptly shut up when his face is right at your soaked pussy, lapping you up from your hole all the way up to your clit.
Your hands immediately tug on his hair. Yunho’s gaze is eyeing you down—watch your reactions as he slowly brings you off the edge. His cock can’t take it—he’s rutting against the sheets and staining them with his thick precum, but he still continues to flick his tongue against your clit, making sure your arching your back in pure bliss.
“That’s it, remember who’s in between your legs, fucking you with his tongue”, his voice vibrates through your pussy.
“Yunho, fuck-, wait, I’m gonna cum-”, you gasp, your orgasm being dangled right before you, creeping into your body. Yunho doesn’t relent, for the first few seconds, and you’re sent off the edge, your toes curling when the sensation hits your pussy, and then your empty, pulsating pussy is filled up all the way by Yunho’s thick cock in seconds.
All while you were being engulfed by your orgasm.
That’s when you realise it—he’s gonna send you to the fucking stars—his cock in you while you were cumming amplifies the amount of stars you see splattered in your eyelids, and he doesn’t give you a chance to cry about being overstimulated, because his hand has your throat in a chokehold while he makes sure he fucks you while you ride your orgasm out.
He never once breaks eye contact with you throughout the process, enjoying the feeling of your cunt just clamping down onto him while he fucks you full. Fuckin hell.
“That’s a good girl. See, it isn’t so hard to be well-behaved, isn’t it?” Yunho hums, his voice still low and husky, biting back the pleasure he’s feeling. You don’t answer—only soft hiccups as your eyes continue to water, but the sounds of your wet, sopping pussy does.
Yunho’s lips engulfs yours, prying your parted lips to open further, and you taste yourself in him, moans muffled when he pins your wrists above you, snapping his hips against yours with raw desire.
“You’re gonna behave and take this load”, he whispers when his lips leave yours, wet with spit. You nod frantically, already surrendering yourself to him. He pulls out of you with a wet sound following, before his cock is facing you, letting you watch him fuck his hand.
A string of curses tied with your name leaves Yunho’s lips when he ruts before jerking slightly, then spurts of white decorate your pretty face, and you stare up at him, cum dripping down your chin, as your tongue sticks out. Yunho only takes it as an invitation to collide his lips against yours, satisfied that he’s tasting himself on you.
“Fuck. Can’t get enough. Need more”, he hisses before his lips are your neck again, littering his marks all over your sensitive skin as he pushes you down back onto the mattress to spread your legs open, giving your clit light taps as his half hard cock slides right back into your abused cunt, and you return the favour with marks down his back.
“Yu-ah! It’s too much”, you pant, your tears fully streaking down your temples when you feel him completely growing fully hard in you.
“Don’t worry, babe. I’ll definitely show you what’s too much.”
2K notes · View notes
ellastone-olsen · 9 months
Text
Make her happy-Wanda Maximoff
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★Pairing: StepMom! Wanda x f!reader
Summary: one day your father brings home a new woman, and then that woman brings you home. drunk. and you're in love with her.
★Warning: NSFW 18+, stepcest, age gap (all legal), mommy kink, praise kink, masturbation, smoking, alcohol, forbidden relationship, mentions of violence, little fluff at the end off course
★Word count: 3k
★AN: there are a few set expressions that are in my native language, but I don’t know how it sounds in English, so I translated it verbatim
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There was a crowd of people around. A lot of young people like you, who came here with the same goals: to drink, have fun, maybe find someone for the night, as is usually the case. You never needed a lot of alcohol to start feeling drunk, and after a bottle of beer you were already in high spirits and holding the second one in your hands. Your friends went into pairs and danced together, you looked around: some were kissing as if they were ready to eat each other, some were simply jumping in the music like you, some had already begun to go to separate rooms or to their homes for more private relationships . As always, the student party smelled of alcohol and debauchery. A girl was dancing across from you; you were clearly having fun, even if you didn’t know each other’s names.
You've always had a taste for older women, so it wasn't a surprise when you realized you liked your stepmom. Your parents divorced when you were 11 and immediately after that your mother left for oblivion in another city. At first, out of childish naivety, you tried to call her or write, but as you got older, you realized that your life was no longer her concern. When this realization came to you, there was an unpleasant pang somewhere in your heart; for the first time you realized that there was no such person who didn’t care about you. Even your father, with whom you stayed to live in your hometown, seemed in no hurry to provide you with parental support and care, you just saw each other at home, as if you were neighbors, but were not close. And then Wanda appeared.
Your father chose not to tell the details of their acquaintance and at first, of course, did not bring her to your house. You just knew that somewhere out there there was another woman named Wanda, who, according to your father, was a real angel and you would definitely make friends with her. Of course, you were overcome by skepticism about this. He said this about Jessica and about Emma and about... and you no longer remembered the names of all his ex-women with whom he tried to start an affair after your mother left. Generally speaking, you didn't expect anything. But when their relationship (as your father thought) reached a new level, Wanda showed up at your house. You were a little over 19 at that time and you were studying at college not far from home, God knows why, but you didn’t want to go somewhere else to a life full of uncertainty and doubt. Of course, the factor that living with your father was easier financially and domestically also played a role; you knew that your small salary as a salesperson and an even more meager stipend would not be enough for the same comfortable life as you had now.
As you walked out of your room to the sound of the door opening and two people talking, Wanda greeted you with the most beautiful smile you had ever seen. You just stood there in your pajamas and stupid bunny slippers and stared unblinkingly at the woman with the big green eyes. The thought “what someone like Wanda saw in your father” even flashed through your head, even if it was wrong to think so. From that day on, the woman became a frequent guest in your home, and gradually in your thoughts.
One day, walking past a room that belonged to your father, who was not at home at that moment, you looked into a small gap from the door that was not completely closed and stood in place, as if stuck to the floor. Wanda stood with her back to the door and pulled the straps of a lacy black frameless bra over her shoulders. In the mirror that was a little to the side, you saw the reflection of her full breasts, the barely visible outlines of her nipples and her soft, toned stomach. You knew that you shouldn’t do this, at least for reasons of personal space, and at most for moral reasons, but you couldn’t help yourself, this sight fascinated you so much. Your mouth watered and your breath caught in your throat as you watched the woman who was your stepmom. When Wanda started to turn around to take a red knitted sweater from the bed, you jumped away from the door as if struck by an electric shock and quickly went to the kitchen, turning on the kettle and carefully pretending to choose between several types of coffee. A minute later, the older woman joined you, making her presence known with her hands sliding softly over your waist. Of course, your trembling at this action did not escape her attention.
In the end, Wanda finally settled in your house and with each passing month her presence drove you more and more crazy. It seemed like she deliberately didn’t close the door all the way when she went to change clothes or take a shower, putting on a little show for you. Her touches, which were unusual for you, gave you goosebumps, but due to the lack of warm relationships in the family, you thought that all “parents” do this: they hug you from behind and leave soft kisses at the base of your neck. One small incident became the point of no return for you personally.
You have never been a morning person, if in the morning and during the day all you dreamed of was a sound sleep, invariably with the onset of night a small hyperactive motor would start up inside, but perhaps your insomnia was also to blame. The clock showed 2:34 when your eyes scanned the Tik Tok feed and you giggled at stupid videos with animals, before having managed to take turns drawing, then reading, and so on in a circle. The apartment was quiet, only the sound of the clock ticking away the seconds, disturbing the peace of the heated spring air. You took off your massive headphones and pressed the off button when you heard some strange sounds somewhere behind the wall in the back where your father's room was and... oh. You held your breath and listened more closely, but there was no need because Wanda didn’t seem to be trying very hard to control herself. Every second, the woman’s screams of pleasure were muffled to your ears and an insistent pulsation settled between your thighs. With every sound coming from her mouth, a hot wave appears in the bottom of your stomach and the desire to relieve it was driving you crazy. Then for the first time you did THIS with thoughts about your stepmom.
The hand pulled the pajama pants down your legs along with ruined panties. When you pushed two fingers inside, your pussy was already wet and ready for invasion. You focused your mind on the image of the woman behind the wall and your own moans were drowned in the pillow. You imagined how her hips were rolling now, how her breasts were bouncing, her soft tender skin, in your mind there was only Wanda.
You look in prostration at the boiling kettle when a familiar hand strokes your lower back. "Good morning, my dear." You don't look at her, cheeks turning red from the events of this night. "Good morning." You drink your coffee in silence, you avoid her gaze. The click of a lighter breaks the ringing emptiness between you. A woman lights a cigarette and the smell of tobacco reaches you; a hand with a red manicure hands you a pack. It’s not that you hid your bad habits, but you didn’t allow yourself to do it in front of your father. A sigh leaves your lips and you take one, Wanda strikes the lighter and brings the fire to the tip of the cigarette between your lips. Nicotine hits your head and everyone is dizzy from harmful pleasure. "How did you sleep?" She asks as if she's mocking you. Only now did you notice that she was wearing a light night dress, which did not hide her breasts too much. You try your best not to look there, your gaze runs from her face to her chest several times and she sees it perfectly. “Like dead.”
The party was in full swing, the second bottle of beer was finished and thrown into the trash. It was your friend's friend's house or something like that. You stood in the kitchen and poured yourself some water, hoping that there would be lemon in the refrigerator. Someone’s arms wrapped around your waist from behind and you were scared because the body pressed against your back was clearly taller and larger than you. “Baby, do you want to go upstairs?” You immediately disentangled yourself from the unwanted hug and looked at the guy you saw a couple of times in college, but didn’t even know his name or what year he was in. “Who are you anyway?!” He made another attempt to come closer, but you had already jumped away towards the living room with a crowd of people. “Come on, don’t pretend, that’s how you look at me in college.” You were confused. “What are you talking about? I don't even know who the hell you are." You turned and started to leave, but his strong hand grabbed you, holding you in place. “No, I didn’t finish.” His grip was strong and you had already imagined all the worst possible scenarios, but like a blessing from above, your friend appeared. “Dude, haven’t you mixed up anything? Do you want us to go out now and I’ll put your brains back in place a couple of times?” You were immediately free. The guy raised his hands in surrender. “Okay okay, take it easy man.” He retreated as quickly as he appeared. You were shaking a little from the situation and you immediately took out your phone, finding Wanda’s contact.
“Y/N how are you? I don’t know who called him here, do you want to go outside?” You shook your head in reluctance. “Everything is okay, I’m drunk and I’ll probably go home. Wanda will pick me up." Your father was not in the city; in truth, he began to go on business trips too often, which aroused certain suspicions. Wanda saw this too and began to understand where everything was going. The answer came immediately, as if she had been waiting for this message. “I’ll be there in 20 minutes.” Her text message said.
After saying goodbye to your friends in the driveway, you got into Wanda's red Volvo, where the woman interrogate you about what had happened. “What an asshole.” You were already at home in the kitchen and the woman was swearing under her breath while she made you both hot tea. She changed into her home clothes, back into one of her light night dresses. Your alcohol-fogged brain was screaming to touch her. You watched her body move under the thin silk fabric and legs themselves carried you in the right direction. Wanda was stirring sugar in her tea when your arms grabbed hers and you pressed your body against her back, burying your face in her hair, inhaling the aroma of shampoo. The woman mentally smiled at your gesture of tenderness. "What is a cute girl?" She reached out her hand and slide it in your disheveled hair, slightly pulling back the tufts of hair. The little whine escaped you and you pressed yourself closer to her, as if you were trying to become one with her. “You smell like beer and cigarettes Y/N.” Well, it was a statement of fact, so it’s not offensive. You nuzzled her neck and Wanda turned in your arms. Now was, if not ideal, then a great moment to lay all the cards on the table. “How dare this bastard touch what’s mine.” She whispered it on your lips and your heart sank. “Wanda...you...” The words died between your lips as the older woman pulled you into a kiss. Out of shock, you didn’t immediately answer her, but quickly relaxed and attacked her lips, pressing the woman into the kitchen counter.
“Wanda...I...” You tried to convey your thoughts about your feelings for her between kisses. “Hush, pretty girl...I know everything.” You stopped and looked at her with wide eyes. The older woman laughed and took your face in her hands. “Did you really think that I wouldn’t notice anything? Oh what a sweet little thing." Everything seemed too good a dream, the woman was about to take you to her room, but you stood on the threshold, refusing to go there. “No, come to me.” You clearly didn't like the idea of ​​doing this with Wanda in the bed where she slept with your father. Then you remembered who she is to you and how you both act towards him. “Wait, but my father...You are his wife.” “And it only started to bother you now? Oh don't worry about it baby, he's been cheating on me for a long time and I want to file for divorce. Just don’t tell him.” She winked and closed your bedroom door behind her. She didn't seem upset about it.
Wanda was lying on your big soft bed, surrounded by plush animals, her housedress riding up to her hips and it was too good to be true. It seemed that you would wake up and everything would be over. You didn't care about taking off your dirty street clothes, all that mattered now was the woman underneath you. “Come on baby, make mommy happy, make me cum.” The title that Wanda gave herself completely drove you insane and you tore the silk from her body, leaving only panties decorated with lace. Even though you were on top, Wanda controlled the situation. Her skillful hands and voice guided you on how to do better.
Your knee put pressure between the older woman's thighs, which you held with your hands so tightly that they would leave bruises later. Her skin was as soft as you imagined and Wanda held your hair and guided you to her breasts, encouraging you to play with her nipples. You were ready to suffocate between her breasts, you liked them so much. Your lips wrapped around her nipple and grip on your hair tightened. “That's such a good girl, now give me your hand.” She guided you between your legs where underwear was soaked with arousal. When your finger brushed over her swollen clit, she flexed and grabbed your hair tighter. “You’re so wet, I need to try it, can I?” You whined, desperate to please.
She was completely naked in front of you and your mouth was watering at the sight. “You are even more beautiful than I imagined.” Your lips peppered her stomach with small kisses. “Did you imagine me naked, baby? Mmm I bet you were touching yourself when you thought about it.” She again directed your head, but this time to her pulsating center, and before diving between her folds, you decided to add fuel to the fire. “To be honest, I heard you scream while you were fucking with my father and while listening I touched myself right here on this bed.” You said this and your lips wrapped around her swollen bud, causing Wanda to arch her back. She squeezed around nothing and you put three fingers into her at once, twist them so that each time they hit her sensitive spot. "Yes Yes! That’s my good girl, you make mommy feel so good!” She screamed into the emptiness of the apartment and fidgeted all over your face. You pounded into her at a fast pace and added a fourth finger. After a few minutes, her walls began to tighten around you and she came, squeezing your head with her thighs as if she were going to crush you.
When she relaxed, you rose to her lips and brought you together. “Did I do good mommy?” You whispered in her ear, biting her earlobe. "Yeah baby." You lay under her side playing with her tits, sometimes kissing her shoulder. The woman stroked your cheek and lifted your face, urging you to look into her eyes. "Do you want to be with me?" The question took you by surprise and you remained silent. Wanda took this as a refusal and turned to the other side, covering her naked body with a blanket. "I understand." It came muffled from her. The last thing you wanted to do was upset her, especially since you wanted to be her girlfriend more than anything.
You got up from the bed and the older woman thought that you were leaving, but you walked around the bed and sat down in front of her so that you could see her face. "Yes, I want to be with you. I think I love you Wanda." After these words, she crawled out of her homemade cocoon and extended her hands to you. You crawled into her arms.
"What will happen next?" Your question hung in the air. More than anything, you hated uncertainty. Wanda turned to look at you. “I will divorce with your father and move into my old apartment. We can see each other without hiding it, he’s unlikely to mind.” You nodded but remained silent, encouraging her to continue. “I don’t think he should know about our new type of relationship, of course, but that’s just for him.” You nodded again. It was like something self-explanatory. In your dreams, you had already moved into Wanda’s apartment, but you didn’t tell her.
"So what is next?" A grin settled on her face. “And then baby, I’d like to think about your satisfaction.” She said as she pulled your clothes off.
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cutebat · 2 months
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Yandere Batfam x Neglected, but Defiant Reader
The First Page
Warning(s): Neglect, emotional abuse, physical abuse, mind break (There are no yandere themes yet, but will be in another chapter)
(This chapter is basically the first part of the prologue and some things fixed)
~~~~~
10 years old.
You were only 10 years old when the Gotham's billionaire, Bruce Wayne, entered through the doors of the orphanage that you lived under of.
You could remember the owner holding your hand as she lead you to the man who is going to be your father.
You remember when he placed his hand on your head as he introduced himself to you and promised that he'll give you a great life.
You remember when you came to the manor as he introduced you to your new family that consists of four new older brothers, one new older sister, and a butler.
You remember when everyone would talk to you and welcome you with loving embraces.
You also remember a few days foward when Bruce gave you a costume that resembled a white dress with pink details, which earned you the title of Batgirl.
And after all of that, it's like it never happened.
~~~~~
You are now being ignored by everyone.
Nobody gave you a glance, made excuses, and basically beat the shit out of you. Well, not exactly.
For example, there was one day when you came up to Bruce with a flyer in your hand.
"Um, hi, Bruce... I know you're busy right now, but... I'm going to have a school play and I got the main role. So... I hope you can stop by and watch."
You tell him in the nicest way possible.
However, Bruce was so focused on his paperwork that he didn't give you a glance. All he said was...
"Hm? Yeah, I'll go check it out if I finish all of this."
And suprise, suprise, he never showed up.
This resulted in you crying in the girl's restroom all alone in your costume.
~~~~~
There was also a time when you felt like you needed to train more, so you did it by going up to Dick who seems to be training with Damian.
"Um, guys? Can I join you two?"
You ask as you smile awkwardly as your two older brothers turned to you.
Which is why you became surprised when Dick smiles.
"Sure! But, do you mind if you wait until me and Damian are done with this sparring session? It won't take too long."
He said with a chuckle as Damian looked like he was glaring at his little sister.
You didn't want to be rude, which is why you just nodded before you went over to the corner and watched your brothers train.
As an hour passed, Dick and Damian stopped, which made you take the chance to finally train with them.
However, you seemed confused when you saw the two turning around and walking out of the batcave.
"He-Hey, Dick? I thought you and Damian were going to train with me."
You speak up in a timid tone, which the two clearly heard.
"Oh, about that. Sorry, (name), but we were already planning to go to the cafe for a break. Maybe tomorrow, okay?"
Dick said with an 'apologetic' expression before he leaves with Damian.
Because of this, you never asked him to train with you again.
~~~~~
These were all easily common, but there were some moments when it scarred you.
One time, Tim was basically forced to bring you to a mission along with his friends.
As the patrol went on, you seemed to get distracted a bit when you spotted Conner having some trouble.
Because of this, you left the scene and quickly dived in and fought alongside the teenage Kryptonian. Thanks to you, everything was handled.
Conner thanked you before someone yelled out your name. This made you jolt as you turned to see an angry Tim storming over to you.
Before you can say anything, he cuts you in.
"What on earth were you doing?! I told you to stay where you are, and you just had to ignore everything I say, don't you?!"
He yells as if someone murdered his close family member.
This made you so shocked as Conner was stunned. When Cassie and Bart came over to the spot, they were both shocked to see their friend, yelling at his little sister.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Calm down, Tim. (name) didn't do anything wrong. I was the one who called her over to help me."
Conner defends you, but of course, Tim doesn't listen.
"Don't even try to defend her! She knows what she did! Oh, I am SO going to report this to Batman, so don't even try to cover yourself up!"
Tim said in a frustrated and angry tone towards you before he used his grappling hook and swooped down, leaving you behind with his friends.
"Hey, what the hell, asshole!"
Conner shouts out at his friend as he was shocked to him this angry.
He lets out a sigh before he looks over to see Cassie and Bart, comforting you as you are crying in their arms.
~~~~~
Yelling wasn't the only thing that you had to endure.
You even went through moments when things got a little too... physical.
It all happened when you were just trying to help someone in need.
You were walking down the hallway during the night as you just wanted a cup of water. As you were wandering down the hallway, you noticed some voices from someone's bedroom.
Jason's bedroom.
This made you curious as you got close to the door to hear Jason talking amongst himself as he sat on the edge of his bed.
He kept muttering stuff out of his mouth, which made you worried.
That is when you made a mistake by going inside.
"Jason...? Are you okay?"
You ask in a timid voice.
At that moment, Jason snaps his head towards you before everything starts to go blur. All you remember is him grabbing something like a pole type object before it was brought down towards your head.
And then, you woke up in your own bedroom, except you have a bandage wrapped around your head.
When you sat up, all you saw was Alfred, the family's loyal butler. No sign of your other family around, concerning about you.
Luckily, you recovered, and the wound went away after a month.
And, of course, Jason never apologized for what he did to you.
~~~~~
A few months was in, and no improvement has been made. You were always ignored. They made excuses of not wanting to spend time with you, and some of them actually hit you a few times.
All of that happened to your ten year old self.
But, did you give up on that spot? Nope.
You discovered on the internet what you can do to please your family to gain their attention. There were a lot of results, but the one that kept popping up the most was trying to reach your best achievements, which would result in them showing you more support from them.
And that's what you did.
You started to join in many after-school activities and studied all your might. It was tiring, and you almost passed out from exhaustion, but you kept going because you wanted at least your family to notice you.
The problem is that they never did.
They never congratulated you, celebrated on your accomplishment, and most of all, they didn't even give you a glance when you showed off.
All of that for nothing. Damn.
~~~~~
The breaking point wasn't because of all that. It was when someone else entered the family.
Duke Thomas.
A metahuman teenager whose parents died from the Joker Venom.
You thought that they might treat him the same way that they had treated you.
But, nothing.
Duke was showered with love, attention, and even praise.
The things that you never got when you came here.
Whenever you pass by whatever event that they're holding, you will always see them together. Being all happy, chatting, and laughing with one another.
They never do that when they're around you. Even on your birthdays. Actually, when was the last time they all celebrated your birthday?
At that moment, something inside you just snapped. Like, a loud crack echoes through your head that makes a loud ringing sound, kind of like a wake-up call.
Then, it all clicked.
They never cared about you.
They never even liked you.
The only reason why Bruce adopted you is because nobody wanted to.
~~~~~
The thoughts kept running through your head as you walked into an alleyway with a trash bag in hand.
Earlier today at school, you dropped out the clubs that you absolutely hated and pretty much just purposely laid back in your classes.
You feel empty.
When you finally reach the dumpster, you got on top of some stacked boxes because of your height and open the large lid.
You could only stare inside that had a lot of black colored trash bags. Your eyes were blank as you stared down inside.
That's when you muttered out.
"Why even bother...?"
With that, you tossed the trash bag that you were holding on into the dumpster.
After what it felt like hours, you finally got off of the boxes that you were standing on top of before you walked out of the alleyway.
As you walked away, something fell out of the trash bag that you threw out.
It was a white bat eared helmet.
The accessory that once matched with your costume.
That's right.
You were no longer Batgirl.
You never were, anyway.
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idiotmf · 2 months
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omg please write a piece about reader getting fucked by a ghost i neeeeed it
Hey, anon! Fear not, I shall deliver. I wasn't sure whether you wanted afab or amab, so I went with the usual afab. I'm happy to rewrite it into amab, if anyone wants it!(^ω^)
Edit: Here is the amab version!
Feel free to send me asks and requests or little imagines, I'm always happy to expand upon it, it gets the creative juices flowing a little. ^-^
NSFW, Minors DNI, I can see you.
TW: dub-con
Anyway, enough talk. Here's Reader getting not-so-respectfully railed by a ghost:
When your grandma left you a house after she passed, you assumed your troubles would finally be over, and for a while, they were. When you moved in, things were amazing. You didn't have to worry about rent anymore, and the utilities were surprisingly cheap. It's like you hit the jackpot, finally able to live with a few less worries.
Obviously, when you weren't working or hanging out with the odd friend that came over, you spent your time at home, keeping yourself occupied, mostly by either watching something, playing something, or masturbating out of boredom.
Things continued like that for a while, until you found a rather cryptic note from your late grandma that explained in unnecessary detail how there was a ghost living in the house. She strictly referred to the ghost as "him" and mentioned he was fairly friendly, unless provoked, and even then he would only play pranks on you.
Being the rational person that you are, you chalked it up to grandma being senile and that she was just keeping herself entertained since she lived in the house all alone. It would have been fine if that's where it stopped.
One night, your old friend came over, and you did your usual routine of watching something, and then halfway through, you ended up fucking. That's where it really all began.
The next morning, things were on the ground, not like someone had ransacked the place, but it was noticeable enough, though of course you thought it must've been just your old friend who had knocked some stuff over while leaving in a hurry. When you went to bend over to pick some things up, you could feel something grabbing your ass, and without hesitation, you turned around, only to be faced with nothing. Maybe you were going crazy, you thought; it wasn't an awfully strong grip, so maybe it was something your body did.
This excuse became increasingly less effective as time went on. You felt hands everywhere and at the worst times. Caressing your arms and legs, tracing your stomach and back. Eventually it got to the point where you could feel a hand slipping into your pants, playing with your clit. Of course, you were scared at first. Something was clearly there, and it reminded you of the letter your grandma left you.
You began shouting at the ghost. Telling it to stop fucking around and leave you alone. However, the ghost didn't really care; you broke his one rule that he had agreed on with your grandma, and even if you didn't know, he was going to punish you. How dare you bring another man into his house and have the audacity to fuck him?
His touching escalated the more you allowed him. Eventually you noticed a mouth and a wet tongue licking your neck, tracing down to your breasts. It seemed strange, considering you were usually clothed when this happened, yet it felt like it was touching your skin directly. The licking felt nothing like what your old friend would do, although in truth the sex with him wasn't all that good and really just a way to get fucked every once in a while.
Before you knew it, multiple hands were all over you, joined by at least three tongues licking you. This made no sense; you wondered if there were multiple ghosts. It became increasingly difficult to even find the logic in this when you were constantly being groped and licked. One tongue had found its permanent place on your sensitive nub, flicking and sucking it with every move you made; one was carelessly sucking on one of your nipples, alternating with one hand that usually played with the other one. The third mouth seemed to like making out with you, its tongue constantly shoved in your mouth, wrestling yours.
Despite feeling all these ministrations as if they were real, when you looked at your reflection, there was nothing there. Your mouth was gaping, but nothing was in it; your panties were soaked beyond belief most of the time, yet nothing seemed to be there. But truly, the worst part about it all was that it wouldn't let you finish. Whenever you were just about to cum, the mouth disappeared before continuing its torture. It took about two days before you couldn't take it anymore, pleading with the ghost to let you cum. It didn't listen, though it did use more hands to restrict you when you went to touch yourself before shoving something inside of you.
It wasn't much of a sensation, and you felt it curl, so you naturally assumed it was the finger of another hand. “Please,” you began whimpering every other minute, your tone getting more needy with every ruined orgasm that he put you through as minutes began to feel like hours.
“I'll do anything,” you finally managed to choke out through tears as he played with your sodden pussy for what you could only register as an eternity again, bent over the kitchen counter, legs held apart, wrists gripped tightly by the ghost. For a moment, there was nothing but stillness; all the mouths stopped what they were doing, and most of the hands disappeared too, except the ones keeping you in place.
“Anything?” A shiver ran down your spine as you heard the noise that you assumed to be the ghost's voice. It sounded distant and more like the wind howling than a human voice, yet you knew immediately who it was. You nodded, the tears running down your face falling onto the kitchen counter, your twitching cunt trying to feel any sort of stimulation now that the mouths and hands were gone.
“Yes, anything.” The words came out before you could even attempt to stop them, accompanied by a howling sound, which made you wonder whether it was meant to be a laugh or not.
Another few moments passed before a loud noise forced itself out of your mouth at the sensation of something stretching you open. It was long and thick, covered in strange bumps, providing nothing but the most torturous pleasure as it thrust into your hungry cunt at a punishing pace.
Despite your mind still questioning whether this was okay and logical, your body was writhing against the kitchen counter, hands still held still by him, your legs forced apart as he fucked you from behind. No matter how much you attempted to stop it from happening, desperate, high-pitched mewling sounds escaped your lips at a rapid rate as you felt another orgasm approach, hoping this would be the one to finally let you cum after two days of torture.
“What a willing little slut,” the ghost taunted with his howling voice, making him sound distant yet all around you at once. The insults made you mewl louder; something about being used like this by a ghost made your pussy clench harder.
In a small moment of defiance, you glanced back at what might be behind you, but just as expected, there was nothing. Despite your pussy being stretched to an almost painful level, gaping around air, no figure was there to account for it.
Just as your orgasm threatened to spill over, something was shoved into your mouth, making your jaw hurt, before it found its way down your throat, drowning out your mewls and desperate groans.
“Be quiet, whore. I'm not done with you yet.” With those words, your eyes fluttered closed as you let this torture continue for another minute or two, pussy and throat both stuffed full with invisible cocks, bigger than any human's you've ever had. The thought alone was enough to trigger your orgasm, finally sending you over that sweet edge with a loud groan that only came out as a hum. Your body went limp from the impact, and you saw stars in front of your eyes, the ghost holding you up by your wrists as if it were nothing.
Without a word or even a moment to spare, he kept slamming into you, the bumps rubbing against your insides, making you feel like you were stuck in a never-ending orgasm for a moment before it did finally subside, though you could feel the cocks twitch, their movements becoming more erratic and aggressive. You tried to say something, but your throat was simply too stuffed to make any worthwhile noise.
Suddenly, you felt a hot sensation in both of your holes, almost making you gag and cry in pain, as the sheer amount of ectoplasmic seed forced its way into your womb and down your throat, spilling back into your mouth, even running down your chin. Before you could fully register what happened, you were dropped, the ghost probably leaving you to deal with the aftermath. As you lay there, the sheer amount of cum almost formed a small puddle on the ground, your fucked-out pussy leaking more as you desperately tried to swallow the remnants in your mouth.
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lives-in-midgard · 5 months
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A Cute Couple
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Summary: You distant yourself from Bucky because you think he doesn't feel the same, not knowing that he is also in love with you.
Word Count: 1180
Request: Bucky and Reader who are best friends and really close, then someone says that and Bucky furrows and is like “we are not a couple.” But he didn’t see the changing expression on readers face because she is in love with him. [See full request here.]
Prompt 19: “You’re such a cute couple.” “We are not a couple.”
A/N: Thank you for sending me this request I hope you like it!!
Divider made by @firefly-graphics
Masterlist
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Bucky is your best friend, and you are his. It all started when you joined the Avengers shortly after Bucky did. You immediately had a special connection and became best friends after a while. You were there for each other when the other one was going through a difficult time. Bucky knows exactly how to make you feel better and you know what to say or do to make him feel better. You tell each other everything, well almost everything because you both have a secret and are afraid of telling it to the other.
You have a huge crush on Bucky and Bucky is also in love with you.
You weren’t sure how Bucky would react if you told him how you feel until one day.
Bucky and you were sitting on the couch in the living room of the Avengers compound. A few minutes ago, Bucky asked you how something on his phone works and you explained it to him. You had to chuckle when he didn’t understand something and after a while you found yourself sitting very close to him. A few more minutes passed when Peter Parker entered the room. He was a new Avenger and you both hadn’t really spoken to him much since he joined.
“Hey, Y/n, hello Mr. Barnes.” Peter said politely and sat down on an armchair. You both looked over to him with a smile.
“Kid, I already told you that you can call me Bucky.” Bucky said and you giggled.
“Okay, Mr.…umm Bucky.” He stuttered nervously and then blushed. You continued to talk to him for a while.
“You’re such a cute couple.” Peter suddenly said and you started to blush and then to smile.
“We are not a couple.” Bucky answered and then chuckled. Your smile dropped not because what he said was wrong, but because of the way he said it. You didn’t hear what Peter said next, you just wanted to get away from there. So, you slowly moved away from Bucky and stood up, Bucky then looked at you confused.
“I have to go. …I completely forgot that Wanda wanted to talk to me…now.” You stuttered as you looked at Bucky and then at Peter.
“Oh, okay, but we see each other later, right?” Bucky asked.
“Yeah, sure.” You mumbled and Bucky smiled, although he was a little confused about what just happened. You quickly said goodbye to Peter and then went to your room. When you opened the door to your room, you laid down on your bed and started crying. Of course, you know that you’re not a couple, but when Peter told you that you and Bucky were cute, it made you happy and then Bucky chuckled. He probably doesn’t have the same feelings for you, you thought. You decided that maybe it would be the best if you didn’t spend so much time together anymore. But you have to watch a movie with him later like you always do.
After dinner you went to Bucky’s room like you did every day, but this time you were more distant and tried not to sit as close to him as you used to. Even if it was difficult for you, especially when he is such a cutie. When the movie ends you usually stay for a while, but this time you thought it would be better to go to your room.
“Doll, are you sure that everything is okay?” Bucky asked.
“Yeah, it’s nothing, I’m just tired.” Before you could leave the room, you heard Bucky say:
“Goodnight doll, and sleep well.” You started to smile and turned around.
“Goodnight Buck, thanks you, you too.” Bucky smiled at you and then you went to your room.
Over the next few days, you started not spending so much time with Bucky. You made excuses when he wanted to spend time with you, and once when you were training and he came into the room you stopped and said that you wanted to stop even though that wasn’t true.
You missed spending time with Bucky. You missed his smile, his blue eyes, you missed when he calls you doll and how he always knows the right thing to say. You even miss his grumpy side and how he always gets annoyed when he doesn’t understand something in the modern life.
Bucky also missed you a lot. He missed making you laugh, talking to you about everything, watching movies at night, and then waking up to you cuddling with him. Bucky even missed that you can always make him smile or laugh, even when he’s in a grumpy mood.
At first Bucky didn’t want to say anything to you, but after a few days he had to talk to you.
You were in your room watching your favorite show when there was a knock on your door. When you opened the door, you saw Bucky standing there. He looked nervous and had a sad look in his eyes.
“Hey doll, can we talk?”
“Sure Buck, come in.” You were nervous and quickly turned the TV off.
“Are you avoiding me, doll?”
“What, no, I’m not avoiding you.”
“Are you sure because you’ve definitely been trying not to spend a lot of time with me lately…Once you even left the room when I walked in. I really miss you, doll.” Bucky looked sad and now you were too.
“I miss you too.”
“Then please tell me why you’re avoiding me” Bucky asked and you looked down, not sure what to say to him.
“Please doll, tell me what I did to upset you.” Bucky said, and when you didn’t answer, he put his finger on your chin and lifted it up so you were looking at him. When you looked into his blue eyes and saw how sad he looked, you couldn’t resist.
“Remember when Peter told us that we were a cute couple?”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“When you said that we are not a couple, it made me so…so sad, especially the way you said it. Because…Bucky, I’m in love with you” You stuttered and were silent for a moment. When Bucky didn’t say anything, you became nervous.
“Bucky– “
“Doll, I love you.” Bucky interrupted you.
“What?”
“I’ve been in love with you for so long, but I wasn’t sure if you felt the same way.”
“Oh, Bucky, I can’t believe this.”
“You better believe it, because I’m so in love with you.” You blushed and Bucky suddenly tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, put his hand on your cheek and then he kissed you. At first it was softer, but then it became more passionate.
“This kiss was worth the wait.” Bucky said as you broke the kiss. You smiled at each other and are both so happy knowing that the other feels the same way. You are so in love with each other and can’t wait to see where this relationship goes.
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Taglist:
@marvelogic | @eviebuggg | @buckys-wintersoldier | @nicoline1998enilocin | @kandis-mom | @sergeantbarnessdoll | @noellez-best-life23 | @beaubbdoll | @sgtgarricks | @ratchildspartan | @scott-loki-barnes |  @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 | @mrsbuckybarnes1917 | @brnesblogposts
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jgracie · 6 months
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DELICATE — PERCY + DAUGHTER OF PSYCHE
masterlist | rules
❝ do u think u could write a percy x daughter of psyche reader headcannons, maybe one where shes super emotional bc psyches the goddess of the soul and stuff 🤍🤍 ❞ — anon
in which percy dates a daughter of psyche
pairing percy jackson x psyche!reader
warnings none
on the radio . . . delicate (taylor swift)
“Y/N, can you help with something?” Piper said as she barged in your cabin
Being Psyche’s only child, you got pretty lonely watching everyone else interact with their siblings. Luckily, the Aphrodite cabin decided to ‘adopt’ you, seeing as you had your emotional intuition in common
That’s how you became good friends with Piper, and how you ended up in this position: being dragged out of the comfort of your cabin and all the way to the beach
Proudly presenting you to the boy you recognised to be Percy, son of Poseidon, Piper said, “Y/N's a daughter of Psyche, she can help!”
You looked at Piper, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “I can help with what?” 
Percy answered for her, “this hippocampus is in pain and won’t tell me anything. I inspected it for cuts or anything like that, but she looks fine!” You didn’t need to hear him to tell he was exhausted. His aura had spots of dark red signifying his tiredness
You gave Percy a smile, channelling all of calmness in yourself as you said, “it’ll be okay, I’ll take a look.” You were glad to see it work - the red spots lessening. Using your voice to influence people’s emotions was something you were still working with Piper on 
As soon as you got near the hippocampus, you knew what was up. Once you got it to relax, you told them, “she’s not hurt, she’s pregnant.”
After that day, you started hanging out with Percy more. Well, if you called ‘doing occasional checkups on Sweetie the hippocampus’ hanging out. 
The two of you, along with Will Solace from Apollo, guided the hippocampus through her pregnancy. You read her emotions and Will administered the necessary medical support
Percy was just there because he’s a child of Poseidon and the hippocampi really wanted their lord to be there, as they believed it’d bless the child
When Sweetie finally gave birth, you couldn’t help but be a little disappointed. You really enjoyed spending time with Percy, and now you didn’t have an excuse to
Could you just ask him to hang out? Sure, he’d probably agree. But you wouldn’t do that. Stuff like this is really delicate to you, and needs to be treated with utmost care
Luckily, he did the asking for you
“Y/N!” Percy yelled. It had been a day since Sweetie gave birth, what could Percy possibly need from you?
You turned, “is Sweetie okay?” Ever since that day at the beach, you’d grown really attached to the hippocampus, and would hate to hear that something had gone wong
Much to your relief, Percy said, “Sweetie’s fine, I just wanted to thank you. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have even known she was pregnant. Do you wanna get ice cream with me later today? My treat.”
Your smile widened and warmth flooded your heart, “sure, Percy, I’d love that.”
The ice cream broke the ice between you and Percy, and soon enough you were laughing as if you’d been friends your whole lives. For someone who isn’t a child of Psyche or Aphrodite, Percy was pretty good with people
Your issue is that he’s too good. When he’d shoot you one of his handsome grins, or gently pull you into his chest as you’re about to bump into someone, or check you for scrapes after a game of capture the flag, you couldn’t help but fall in love 
However, he was so oblivious. Every time you read his aura, you were disappointed at the lack of pink in it. How could he still see you as a friend? 
Confused, you decided to consult the Aphrodite cabin
Another night, another sleepover at the Aphrodite cabin. From the perfume samples to the face masks, you loved it all
Clapping her hands, Piper sat on the floor next to you, completing the circle. Instantly, all of her siblings stopped talking, “we have something to discuss. Y/N, if you will.”
“So, I like Percy–” you heard squeals from all directions. Piper shushed them, “continue.”
“I like Percy, but I don’t think he likes me back. He does things for me - things that I associate with romance - but every time I read his aura, there’s nothing,” you sighed
The circle was silent as the Aphrodite kids thought of solutions to your issue. After a minute, a girl piped up, “have you done anything to show that you like him?” 
“Oh yeah, I gave him one of my chocolates yesterday.” Instantly, you felt judged, “I don’t do that for anyone,” you added
The girl next to you turned and placed her hands on your shoulders, “that’s the issue, Y/N. Sure, to you that's the epitome of romance, but it's a little too subtle for most people, babe. You’ve got to really show him you like him! If you do, then he’ll start thinking of you romantically, y’know?”
By the morning, you made your decision. You’d show Percy that you liked him
Meanwhile, Percy scarfed down yet another potion, grimacing at the taste
You see, Percy liked you too. But he was smart. He knew you’d be able to tell immediately if he liked you, since his aura would give his feelings away. So, what’d he do? He begged asked the Hecate cabin for a potion that’ll hide his aura
Considering you hadn’t said anything about it so far, he thought it worked
He felt bad lying to you, but he couldn’t have you knowing, not yet. Percy wanted to plan the perfect confession, and he couldn’t do that with your powers at play
With his aura concealed, Percy left his cabin. He was going to head to breakfast when he found you sitting at the steps of Cabin 3
"What’re you doing here?” Percy said, startling you. You were too nervous to knock on his door, so you opted to wait for him to leave his cabin instead
Taking a deep breath, you said, “Percy, there’s this movie I really wanted to see, and I was wondering if you wanted to see it… together?” You took his hand and looked down at your feet, too scared to check his aura
“Sure! Do you wanna come to mine or should I go to yours?” Percy replied, blushing. If this didn’t scream the fact that you liked him, he didn’t know what did
You looked up. His aura was the same - yellow, meaning friendship. You felt yourself tear up and ran, hoping he didn’t get suspicious
He did, of course. Percy chased after you until you got tired and he could finally catch up, “what’s wrong, Y/N?”
You snapped. You were getting sick of all of this, “I’ll tell you what’s wrong, Percy! I’ve been trying to figure you out for weeks! You always do romantic things for me but your aura’s still yellow, and it hurts, Percy, so I’d really appreciate it if you stopped leading me on!”
Percy felt like such an idiot. He explained that he did like you and the yellow aura was just because of the potion he got from the Hecate kids
Since you still had some doubts, he dragged you to the Hecate cabin and asked them to give him a potion that’d reverse the effects of the first one
As soon as he downed that one, his aura turned bright pink
True love
You started dating soon after. That night, you watched the romance movie you’d picked out and Percy held you as you cried about how cute the couple is
You can’t hide your emotions from Percy. Just because he can’t read auras, doesn’t mean he can’t tell when his favourite girl’s feeling down!
Whenever someone even thinks to tease you for being sensitive and emotional, Percy immediately gives them a lecture, telling them he’s sorry they don't have half your emotional complexity
He’s always asking you to read his aura, since he's very curious. It barely changes when he’s around you, almost always mostly pink 
You still tell him though and he gets this super proud look on his face and it’s really cute 
You’re really glad you have Percy because now you have someone to rant to about all the media you consume and how it makes you feel. Sometimes he spaces out because your voice is so soothing, but he makes up for it
You two are PDA central. Percy also has lots of feelings, so you always have to be touching in some way
You told him your mom's sacred animal is the butterfly once and now whenever he sees one he instantly thinks of you
“Oh my Gods Y/N is watching over me!” “Percy that’s a moth” 
Every day Percy thanks Piper and her mother for letting you guys cross paths, because your path and his are forever intertwined now
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queerpumpkinnn · 1 year
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You Snooze You Lose
3.9k words
Summary: you're just about to give up on the dating scene altogether, so who better than your neighbor friend to show you how good dates usually end? can you tell this is my favorite trope
Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader (can be interpreted as older!Eddie)
Warnings: piercedtongue!Eddie, softdom!Eddie, mention of reader having an awkward date, alcohol (both consume but they're not drunk), Eddie refers to reader as princess/pretty and reader is afab but pronouns and clothing style is up for interpretation, Eddie picks up reader, thigh riding, choking, brief weed mention, fingering, oral sex, singular biblical reference?? (not counting someone saying 'oh god' or something of the like, kinda vague i think it'll probably go over a lot of people's heads), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, hair pulling (eddie receiving), mentions of voyeurism, reader begs a lot a lot a lot, unprotected sex and creampie (this is fiction, wrap it before you tap it), nipple play, panty sniffing and stealing, scratching (eddie receiving), Eddie's mouth (however you're interpreting this the answer is yes), heaps of praise, sprinkle of dumbification, squirting, Eddie is a pleasure dom through and through, let me know if I missed anything
While reading, I recommend you listen to the altar is my hips - a Spotify playlist by me!
~
Your head fell back against the car, inhaling deeply and heaving a long sigh that devolved into something of a groan. Your social battery was impossibly drained.
You had just come from another pitiful excuse of a date, someone from work that a mutual friend had set you up with. It wasn't a total disaster, but it didn't leave you with butterflies either. But you were home now, so you could forget about the experience for the timebeing.
A voice calling your name pulled you from your thoughts. It was one you recognized immediately as your next door neighbor, Eddie. When your eyes located him you saw him sauntering out of his open garage towards your driveway, beer in one hand and jean pocket over the other. His chunky boots set in stone his walk, so casual and powerful, and oh god he's right in front of you now.
"You must be doing some serious thinking out here," Eddie chuckled, leaning on your car opposite you. "Either that or there's more to that tree than meets the eye because you've been staring at it for the last five minutes."
You chuckled back at him. "You've been watching me?"
"With a face like that, it'd be a crime not to."
There it was again. That little game you and Eddie played. Even from your first day in the neighborhood Eddie welcomed you with his abrasive charm and an open invitation to his services on a car. Which he seemed to exercise often- his garage door was often open during the afternoons, blasting music as he sat under his car doing god knows what. He never failed to wave and wink at you as you pulled into the driveway every day as you came home from work.
As you became more accustomed to him, your friendship evolved into frequent Friday night hangouts, sitting on the ground in the living room with a six pack talking about anything and everything.
You hated to admit it, but it didn't take long for your cheeks and ears to start to get embarrassingly red in front of Eddie, especially when your conversation topics became more, well, intimate. Whether or not he'd picked up on it, you didn't know- nothing had ever come of your little crush; you'd been content to leave that between you and your vibrator.
"Kid? Y'alright?"
There you go again. You shook your head, blinking a few times before shooting him an apologetic smile.
"Yeah, sorry."
"You seem a bit on edge. Wanna talk about it?"
You shrug. "It's nothing, really. Just got home from a date."
"Assuming it didn't go well?"
"It wasn't bad, it just- I don't know, it felt forced."
Eddie hummed, nodding lightly. "I hear ya. Tell y'what, take ten to get settled and let me clean up, then come over, we'll break out a couple of bottles and you can tell me all about it, yeah?"
"Sounds great," you agreed, and Eddie gave you a playful salute before sauntering back to his own driveway- which you may or may not have watched for a little too long.
Once you'd changed into more casual attire, you took the short walk down the street to Eddie's house. By this time, the sun was half set, and his garage had been shut, the only evidence that someone was home being the lights on in the kitchen.
"There you are. Was starting to worry," Eddie grinned at you as soon as the door swung open. You noted a flash of silver behind his teeth as his tongue swiped against his side teeth, and the tickling in your lower gut a moment later.
"Aw, you worry about me?"
“All the time, sweetheart,” the man flashed a grin, stepping aside to welcome you inside. "So, what's gotcha down?"
You heaved a groan, plopping onto his couch. "It's such a long story, I'm not even sure I have it in me to tell the whole thing. But he treated me like one of the guys. I mean, I want us to be friends too, but..." you clicked your tongue and sighed, words escaping you.
Meanwhile Eddie just watched you, arm slung over the back cushion across from you on the other side of the L of the couch. His beer bottle rested on his knee, balanced by his hand. "You wanted to be romanced."
"Yeah, I guess so. He didn't even make sure I got to my car safely."
Eddie's eyed widened, head cocking in disbelief. "Are you kidding?" When you shook your head no, he flung his hands in the air. "That's not even romantic! I do that for my friend's kids I drive around because I don't want them getting kidnapped!"
"I know, I know. That's not even the worst part."
Eddie scoffed. "What could possibly be worse?"
"Let's just say I know more about his bowel happenings than I would like to."
Eddie wrinkled his nose, sucked in a breath through his teeth. "Yeah, y'know princess, I get the feeling he's not your soulmate." He set his bottle down with a clink on the wood, running his hands up his thighs. "Man, even I could do better."
Something in your stomach turned over at the thought. Eddie seemed to notice your change in demeanor, however slight, and set his bottle down.
"Could you?"
Although it was after a few long, heavy seconds, the words escaped you faster than your brain could process them. Eddie's eyebrows twitched in something mixing amusement and bewilderment.
"I could," he mused. You swore that when he shifted his legs opened a little bit wider. "'Least your night wouldn't end complaining to a friend over a beer."
"Oh yeah? How would my night have ended?"
Eddie cocked a brow, lips curling.
You tilted your head to the side, eyeing him. Another long, heavy moment settled between you two, where you sat staring at one another.
Then your mouth moved of its own accord.
"Show me."
Slowly, so slowly, Eddie stood. sauntered over to where you sat. He watched you like a hawk, mischievous eyes captivating yours. A single, calloused hand reached out to your jaw, tilting it up a bit so that you were facing him. Eddie's mouth quirked up at the new sight.
"Y'want me to show you how your night should've ended, princess?" He crooned. You nodded dumbly, earning another chuckle. "Show you how you deserve to be treated, hm?"
Before you could give a response, Eddie's mouth was on yours, slow and deliberate and relaxed, seeming to simultaneously pull tension from your bones and set your skin on fire. Your fingers reached for his jacket, tugging him closer. Eddie gripped the couch back behind you to hold his weight, other hand coming to cup the back of your neck, slinking into your hair. His thumb rested on your pulse, smirking a little when he felt it racing.
"Pretty thing," he murmured in between hot kisses, "are you sure about this?"
"So sure, Eddie, please," you breathed, tugging his jacket off; the leather was cool to the touch, nice on your searing fingertips.
You could feel his mouth quirk up at your desperation. The hand that held the couch came down to your legs, lighting fire in their wake and finding the crook under your knee, tugging outwards. Heat brewed in your core at the implication- fueled even more so when Eddie pulled back with a grunt to tug his jacket away. Your eyes seemed to be locked in on his, somehow darker and lit with something primal. His kiss-bitten lips hung open in a lazy grin.
"C'mere, pretty." Eddie's hands grip your thighs with a searing mix of worship and need, pulling them apart and tugging you towards the end of the couch by the crooks under your knees. You let out a squeak, breaking quickly into a stifled hum of pleasure as his mouth found and made quick work of your neck, kissing and nipping and licking with that damn ball of metal down the front of your throat, hands splaying over your thighs appreciatively all the while.
"Eddie," your voice had risen into a near whine, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. All thoughts were clouded with his storm- his breath fanning your jaw, warmth radiating onto your body, almost chest to chest, hands teasing dangerously high.
"Hm?"
"Please, please Eddie..." you weren't sure what you were asking for, really, you just knew you wanted more of him. However he would give himself to you you would gladly take.
"Please what? Y'know I'm all yours, honey, I'll give you everything you want and then some but I can't help you if I don't know what that is."
"More," you huffed, reaching for his wrists.
"More?" Eddie teased; the condescending lilt in his tone was overwhelmingly obvious, but in your frenzied state you only nodded limply. Your hand tugged at his, and he followed your lead as you dragged his hand towards your neck, pressing at the back of his hand to indicate what you wanted him to do.
"Oh? Princess likes choking, huh?" The excitement in Eddie's voice was hardly containable, but he managed to play it off cooler than how he really felt- like a dog who just heard dinner being poured into his bowl. "That is interesting."
Eddie's grip on your neck wasn't really that strong, but it made your head spin nonetheless, eliciting a weak, content noise from you.
"There we go, fuckin' love hearing that." Eddie gave a kiss to your cheek, his other hand occupied with sending shock waves down to your gut as his fingers walked up the back of your leg. "What else does princess want, hm?"
You only let out a whine, too engrossed with the building, unbearable heat in between your legs, which, at the sound of his nickname, twitched further open.
Lucky for you, Eddie picked up on that immediately. "Aw, sweet thing, shoulda told me." He tuts, moving both hands under you and rearranging the two of you so that your crotch was hovering over his thigh, other leg hooking onto yours so that you were spread open for him.
"Here we go honey, y'wanna use my leg, hm? Get yourself off?" His words were muffled by the skin of your shoulder.
Realistically you knew you wouldn't be able to orgasm from dry humping his thigh alone, but God you were so eager for friction you were willing to try. You whimpered an 'mhm', setting yourself down on his leg- even that small touch made you gasp. Eddie's hands reached for your ass, helping you grind down onto him, nearly knocking the breath out of you when the contact you so desperately craved turned into a wildfire of need.
"That's it, sweetheart, keep going. 'S'it feel good? Yeah?" He mimicked your whimper of response, proud grin never faltering, even as he nipped at your jaw. His hands, firm, surprisingly gentle for how rough and calloused they felt, traveled from your ass to your waist, fingertips slinking under the hem of your shirt.
"Can we take this off, princess? Want to see you, pretty please let me see you." His voice was low and sultry and had goosebumps rising on your back. You whined an 'mhm', the thought of what he was going to do when you were topless spurring you to pull it over your head yourself.
Once your chest was bared to him, Eddie's hands, trailing lightly enough to tickle, found your poor, sensitive nipples, thumbs brushing over them enough to make you jolt, gasping in surprise.
"Eddie, Eddie- fuck, more, need more, please," you cried, hand flying to his hair when his head dipped to lick over your chest. Whether it was to tug him away or keep him there, you didn't know.
"Aw, I know, you're just insatiable, aren't you?" Eddie gave you his best faux sympathetic voice, and for a minute you actually thought he might feel sorry for you, like it wasn't his plan all along to get you worked up like this.
Eddie's hands worked under your legs, pulling you closer to him before hoisting you up, stomping somewhere in the house you'd only visited a handful of times and never under this circumstance- his bedroom.
It was a dimly lit room, smelling faintly of weed, but you weren't given much time to take in the sights because Eddie plopped you down on his bed, immediately towering over you, caging you in with his arms. His curls tickled your face, then your neck when he moved there. A few sloppy kisses quickly turned heated again when his leg wedged itself between yours. You took the opportunity, however fleeting, to rut yourself against the material.
But this time Eddie gripped your hips, pinning you down. "Patience honey, I'm getting there." The glint of warning in his eyes had you nearly shaking in excitement. A glimmer inside of you wondered what he'd be like if you ignored his warnings.
Eddie slithered down, slowly, kissing his way down to your navel. You willed your hips to stay down, not to lean into his touch, but they did anyway. Your eyes fell shut, head falling back and fingers finding the pillow for something to weakly grip onto.
But a tap on your hipbone snapped them open, looking down at a pair of big brown eyes staring up at you, hovering over your cunt. Knowing what he was asking, you responded with lifting your hips, making it easy for Eddie to slip your bottoms down Your phone nearly fell out of your back pocket from the force with which he flung them, as if he detested the fabric for its audacity to cover you up.
"Good, doing so good." Eddie gave your thighs a squeeze, smiling up at you with something a little kinder, more endearing than the smirk he'd donned the whole evening. With another squeeze, his head dipped down close to your clothed cunt. You swore you could hear him inhale, but your train of thought was halted when Eddie licked a fat stripe up the front of your underwear, sending shocks to your already hypersensitive clit.
"God- fuck!" You tried to clap a hand over your mouth, but Eddie tugged it away as quickly as it came.
"Y'doin' alright, princess? You seem a little tense." Eddie's teasing lilt came from somewhere under you, you could see the grin even through closed eyes. You opened them anyways. His smile was turned into something more playful, a glimpse of the boyish humor he always charmed you with. His head leaned against your thigh like a puppy, pouting up at you with false concern.
"Wonder fuckin' why," you gritted through your teeth, throwing your head back in exasperation.
"Easy tiger," Eddie chuckled, fingers pulling your underwear down- this time you definitely heard an inhale. You heard him mutter something along the lines of "saving these for later."
Eddie's fingers were quick to find you again, thumbs brushing over the joint between your thighs and your pussy, as if he thought the action was soothing and not setting you on fire.
You let out a strangled sound. "Eddie, I swear, if you don't fucking touch me-"
"You'll what?" Eddie's brow raised. His gaze alone made any snide remark die on your tongue.
As if on cue, your phone, long forgotten on the edge of your bed, lit up with an incoming call.
"Well?" Eddie prompted. You reached for the phone, seeing the absolute last name you cared to see illuminating the screen. You gulped, a tinge of guilt seeping in.
"Ah, I think I know who it is." Eddie chuckled, forehead knocking into your thigh as he made a poor attempt to hide his thorough amusement. "Well? Y'gonna answer it?"
You paused, made a face. You didn't even want to talk to him, really.
Eddie barked out a laugh at your reaction. "Shame. He could've learned a thing or two."
You giggled, but it quickly turned into a loud moan as Eddie's tongue, followed by that damn metal ball in the middle, began teasing circles over your clit. Somehow you were both infinitely relieved and worked up even more. Your phone was long forgotten, flung a little too far as, somewhere in the back of your brain, you heard it clatter on the wooden floor. Not that you could be brought to care, not with the way Eddie's tongue felt tracing your weeping hole.
"Fuck, all this for me? Sweet thing, if I knew how good this pretty pussy was sooner." You wondered momentarily what the end of that sentence was, but with his lips around your clit you weren't too worried. Ceaseless and electric his mouth was, bringing you slowly but surely towards that high you'd been chasing fervently for an hour now.
"Eddie, Eddie, I'm gonna- fuck! So good, Eddie, I'm gonna come, pleasepleaseplease-" You could barely understand yourself speak, so lost in your cloud of pleasure. But Eddie seemed to understand perfectly, cooing sweet praises into your cunt as he shook his head back and forth.
"Gonna cum, princess? Go on, you've earned it. Been so good, so patient f'me. Good, good, let go." He pulled both of your hands towards your lower stomach, interlacing them with his.
The noises you made as you unraveled under his marvelous touch were downright pornographic, downright sinful. One might be tempted to say you'd forgotten how to blush, but the heat in your cheeks would have shot down the theory. Waves of pleasure crashed over you, pulling pure electric heat from your sex as you writhed and shivered from Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.
But when the pleasure subsided into jolts, Eddie didn't stop. His tongue continued tracing your clit languidly, and- oh- a new sensation at your core had you squeezing his hands.
"Eddie, ohmygod-" Quickly you realized what he was doing, one finger prodding around your entrance before sinking into your embarrassingly wet cunt, which welcomed him. Your back arched when his finger curled, a guttural sound ripping from your throat as he pushed deeper, searching for that spot, the one that would ensure a noise complaint from a few neighbors.
"Shh, you're okay, you're doing so well, hm? So well, yeah, relax- just like that." Eddie hummed, another finger joining the first and a high-pitched moan from you following shortly after.
And then he found it. That damn spot deep in your gut, and he bullied it with his fingertips over and over and over again.
"Eddie!" His name fell from your mouth like a hymn, moans almost swallowed by the pillow you tugged to cover your face when the brief thought of the neighbors made you a slight bit guilty. Your second orgasm of the night was coming at you full steam ahead, much easier to find from your oversensitivity as well as the new sensation that joined his thumb swiping over your clit.
"That's it, princess, give me another. G'na get you nice and ready, yeah?" Ready for what, you had an idea that sparked, if possible, even more delicious heat in between your legs.
You were animalistic at this point, nearly screaming for him to make you come again. You almost sobbed when his fingers pulled out from you, hands reaching weakly for him.
"Easy, easy, I know. Gonna make it worth your wait, mm? You want my cock, sweet thing?"
Your mouth salivated at the mention, and you immediately propped up onto your elbows to watch him line himself up with you.
"Please, Eddie, please," you sighed, head lolling back.
And there it was, that delicious stretch that had your mind reeling and fingernails digging into Eddie's inked shoulders.
"Oh, oh oh, so good, so good, Eddie, right there!"
Your hands were grabbing for every bit of him you could find. Tugging his hair, scratching down his back, pulling his neck down into a searing, heavy-breath kiss.
"Fuck, princess, keep clenching and I won't last." Eddie grunted into your mouth. His hand, previously pressing onto your lower stomach, pulled your legs so that your ankles rested over his shoulders, bending down a little so that he could move deeper, and did it have you seeing stars.
"Keep- ah- keep going, please, 'm gonna cum, gonna- Eddie!"
Your cunt convulsed around Eddie's cock, throbbing inside of you as you felt white-hot release wash over you. You sobbed into Eddie's pillow, chanting his name as he overwhelmed you with praise. Eddie fucked you through it as best he could, but you could feel he was slowing down, spurts of wet heat in your gut moments later.
"Oh, baby... didn't know you could do that." Eddie was grinning like an idiot, incredulous grin staring down at his thighs. Dizzy, you looked down where he was staring like he just won the lottery.
His thighs were splattered with what you could only guess was your own arousal, even a few drops on his stomach.
"Oh my god," you flopped your head back, hand covering your eyes and trying to cover your embarrassed smile.
"Hey, that was hot." Eddie pulled your hand away, giving you that same sweet smile, squeezing your thigh before pulling himself out. You winced at the feeling, guilt following as you realized his sheets were definitely soiled.
You let out a long exhale, mind still racing. Eddie, having tucked himself into a new pair of pants, watched you. When he concludes you've had a moment to sit and think, he strokes your arm.
"Hey, cutie. You alright there?"
"Uh huh."
Eddie chuckled at the stupid smile you're sure you wore. "C'mon, gotta get you cleaned up."
"Yeah- sorry about your sheets."
Eddie pursed his lips, shrugged. "It was worth it, don't you think?" You attempted to stand, but Eddie held up a hand. "Allow me."
Eddie carried you into his bathroom, seating you carefully onto the toilet before excusing himself. He came back a moment later with your phone, wet wipes, and a glass of water.
You and Eddie fell into more casual conversation- the latter participant heavy on the cocky jokes- it was comforting. He'd offered you to stay the night; not like you hadn't conked out on his couch before anyways.
Brushing your teeth with your finger, you tapped your phone to check the time- and almost knocked it from the sink.
"FUCK." You nearly sprayed toothpaste foam all over Eddie's mirror, holding the phone inches from your face in case your vision had somehow failed you the first time.
"What, what what??" Eddie shouted from the shower, a bottle clattering on the tile shortly after.
You spat your foam out, coughing. You pulled the curtain open enough to push your phone into the shower to show him the time and name of your most recent call.
A pfft noise followed by loud cackling echoed off the tiles. "Oh shit! Y'think he got a show too, sure it wasn't FaceTime?"
Meanwhile you sunk your head into your hands in utter mortification.
Although a tiny part of you was laughing too.
~
Eddie Munson Masterlist
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kamiversee · 4 months
Text
˗ˏˋ My Love Note ´ˎ˗
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2 | draws me so close
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❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.
❧ Content | language, sexual tension, fluff, slight dirty talk, teeny tiny tinge of smut, flirting, suggestiveness, etc.
❧ Word Count | 6.7k
❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader.
| Chapters mlist |
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——Love truly is something beautiful, isn’t it? Especially the process of falling in love. It’s different for each person, the falling process. Some people stumble before they fall, some trip, and some simply leap into that fall.
But you, well, you do a bit of it all, really. You believe your first step toward falling in love was a trip— your heartbeat beginning to race, ears perking up whenever a certain someone opens his mouth, and finding yourself enamored by every second spent with the man…
It was a gradual thing. So much so that instead of love, it may have been a beautiful blend of lust and love in the beginning. And lusting for Gojo Satoru is something only a select few can say they’ve had the pleasure of doing, you being the newest to experience such.
From the day you met him, the friendship kinda just took off. That same day, you went home smiling from ear to ear all because you managed to get his number. Sure, you lived with your number one hater but, you’d deal with Choso and his attitude much later. All that occupied your brain when you got home was the oh-so-beautiful Gojo Satoru whose smile and flirtatious manner were etched into your brain after merely one day.
He had such a pretty smile, with cute dimples present on each side of his face, the most enamoring set of blue eyes-, fuck you could gush about his looks all damn day. Which is exactly why when you got to your apartment, you were quick to text him. Never would you let his number go to waste in your phone but it was truly surprising to receive a text back minutes later.
You’re not sure what you were expecting but it was pleasant to get a text back so quickly. From there, the conversation was just as charismatic and seamless as it was in person. Gojo was kinda an oddball but you think you liked that about him. Instead of constant texts asking what you were doing, he’d just tell you the most random things or ask bizarre questions.
This is what led to text after text, day after day, week after week. And in the midst of such activities, some texts became calls and some calls became Facetimes and before you knew it, you and Gojo were chatting it up every day. He’d have you laughing wee hours into the night, smiling seconds after you wake up to yet another spontaneous text, and giddy to start your day by going to that lovely cafe he works in.
These things became routine and you found yourself kicking off your senior year of university happily. Said routine continued unchangingly for about a month or so— cute moments of flirting, occasional hangouts, and these odd moments of longing looks shared that make both of your hearts skip a beat-
Okay, so that last bit is rather confusing for you. Often would you or Gojo find yourselves saying nothing and yet everything through your gazes alone. Despite how often it occurred, nothing but desirable glances took place. At least, until you found yourself knowing Gojo for a solid month and something had simply… changed.
· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·
On a rather windy Friday morning, you were on your way to that cute lil’ cafe, as usual, and hadn’t expected anything to be different today in comparison to the days prior.
Based on the little routine you’ve built up, typically, when you enter the cafe, you’re met with Gojo who surprises you with a different drink for the day (though, it’s always sweet for some reason). To your surprise, today was a bit different as you were met with one of his other coworkers when you walked in— Shoko Ieiri.
Long chestnut brown hair, similarly shaded yet tired eyes meeting yours, and a slight smile etched onto her face at the sight of you, you’d met her maybe once or twice before but you weren’t expecting to see her today.
“Heyy cutie,” She greets simply as you approach the counter. Ah, her voice is so sweet while she’s talking to you— you’re convinced it’s a requirement to be attractive in order to work at this cafe because so far everyone you’ve met is ridiculously hot.
You grace her with a smile, “Morning Shoko, you seem happier than normal…”
“I got out of workin’ late today by swapping shifts with Geto sooo, yeah, I guess you could say I’m happier than normal,” She explains, shrugging casually before tilting her head and narrowing her eyes at you, “Lemme guess, you’re here for Gojo?”
“I-, I mean… He texted me this morning telling me to come here earlier than normal so… yeah, actually,” You give her a sheepish little grin, glancing off to the side at how quickly she was able to see through you.
Nodding, Shoko gestures her head toward the back, “He’s in the storage room I think.”
Your brows pinch together, “…Am I allowed back there?”
“Girl, I don’t get paid enough to care,” She teases, chuckling a bit, “I’m sure you’ll be fine, go on.”
At that, you nod and then make your way around the counter. It was a bit weird for you to head further into the cafe like this, even though no one else aside from Shoko and Gojo was there. So as you passed Shoko and made your way to the back, you glanced at the woman once more with a look of worry.
To which she sent you a smile and gestured her hand for you to keep going. Then, you sighed and kept walking back, soon making a left that led to a small hallway with a few different rooms. One was a restroom, another a breakroom, and the last was the storage room.
You carefully approached the door to the storage room, which was cracked open, and pushed past it to enter. Your eyes were quickly met with Gojo’s back profile, his hands busy with something in front of himself and seeming as though he were looking through some kind of box.
He must’ve heard your footsteps because his voice is hitting your ears before you even get the chance to say anything, “Shoko I swear I was comin’ back out on just a second, I still can’t find my-,” He’s cut off by a pair of hands cupping his eyes from behind, to which Gojo freezes. “…You’re not Shoko, are you?”
You snort, “That’s such a cliche thing to say, oh my god…” Still keeping your hands over his eyes, you tilt your head and move to peak over his shoulder, “But since we’re bein’ cliche today, guess who?”
Gojo’s lips immediately curl into a smile, “Guess who, huh?”
“Mhmm,” You hum.
“Could you be that one cute girl who’s been comin’ in every day at around 8:13 am, perchance?” Gojo takes his ‘wild’ guess, his shoulders relaxing as the seconds of you being with him pass.
You giggle, “Did you really just say perchance?”
“I did,” Gojo utters suavely, “So, is my guess correct or should I be feeling uncomfortable that some random chick snuck back here and put her hands on me…?”
Giggle turning into a full-on laugh, you lift your hands off of his eyes and he looks back at you over his shoulder. “Your guess is correct, don’t worry,” You tell him as his gaze finally lands on you.
You think you can hear the faint thump in your heart as his face comes surprisingly close to yours due to the simple glance over his shoulder that you’d been peeking over.
Glancing right down at your lips for a split second, and then looking into your eyes, Gojo lets out a soft sigh, “Hi sweetheart.”
You gush, “Hi Satoru.”
He smelled maddeningly good, the space between you and him small and the eye contact almost intimate. Little did you know, Gojo was thinking the same thing as you— loving every second he got to inhale your sweet perfume.
“You look pretty today,” He suddenly compliments, voice lowering.
You quiet your voice to mimic his, “As do you.”
“Yeah?” Gojo starts lifting his hands out of the box he’d been digging in and then he turns his body to face you, tilting his head, “Y’think I’m pretty now?”
“I’ve always thought you were pretty,” You admit, shrugging your shoulders a bit.
The male pauses, eyes steady yet shameless to trail down your figure, “What’s so pretty about me, hm?” Gojo pries, leaning forward a little.
Playfully, you lift a hand to his chest to keep him from getting too close to you, “How about I answer that after you tell me why you wanted me to come here so early?” You divert as you raise a curious brow.
“Oh, no reason in particular, jus’ wanted to see you before I actually start working,” He explains while he glances down at your hand on his chest.
“Why?” You question further, eyes wide and as curious as ever.
Gojo gulps and suddenly avoids your gaze, something he’s only done a select number of times. From what you’ve picked up, it’s whenever you fluster him. “I can’t just want to see you?” He murmurs.
The hand on his chest shifts and you move to drag your finger against him, stepping forward ever so slightly, “Satoru… what’re you not telling me, hm?”
Your fingernail trails back up and stops where his heart is. You swear you feel it beating a million beats a minute and his breath hitches quietly. Gojo swallows thickly before moving his eyes to you again, “Uhm, well…” And he’s lost in your gaze all over again, especially as you tilt your head and bat your lashes at him. Brows tense, “There’s this-,” He clears his throat and shakes his head to snap out of his trance, “There’s this thing.”
“What thing?” You hum.
His voice gets lower, “This thing I wanted to… invite you to,” Gojo slowly gets out.
At that, both your eyes and your facial expression light up, “Really? What’s the ‘thing’ and when is it?”
He lets out a breath of air, seeming to have gotten something off of his chest with that, “You seem more excited about this than I thought you’d be…”
“I’m always excited when you invite me out somewhere,” You say with a slight laugh.
“Yeah but, it’s not… it’s not a casual hangout like we normally do,” Gojo sighs, moving to slip his hands into his pockets.
“Sooo…” You lean in, “What is it then?”
Gojo gulps yet again, “I-It’s this yearly thing my family does. Normally I take Suguru with me but last year my parents got on my ass about not bringing a date so…”
“Geto can’t be your date?”
“I-,” Gojo finally seems to lighten up, chuckling at your comment, “No, Suguru cannot be my date. I don’t want to take him as my date.”
You move to cross your arms, tilting your head as you stare at the man, “So then, you’re asking me out right now?”
“N-No,” He stammers, eyes widening at you for a split second before he watches the way your face twists into confusion.
“No?” You echo, raising a brow.
Gojo clears his throat and lifts a hand to scratch the back of his neck, “Yes but no.”
“So what is this then, Satoru?” A slight smile starts to draw across your face as you notice how nervous he is about this— it’s almost cute, “Are you askin’ me out on a date or not-“
“I’m asking you to come as my date,” He tries his best to clarify but you’re still left confused.
You blink, “What’s the difference?”
Gojo takes a deep breath, “If I were to take you out it’d be a lot different than me inviting you to some stupid gala my prestigious ass family-“
“Did you just say gala??” Your head cocks back a little and your lashes bat excessively, shocked by what just came out of his mouth.
The man gulps and his gaze shies to the side, “…I did.”
You step forward a little and lean closer in an attempt to get him to look at you again, “Your family’s hosting a gala and you’re inviting me as your date??”
Gojo quickly shifts his eyes onto you again, taking note of your closeness and how brightly your eyes are gleaming, “Yeah?” He replies, furrowing his brows.
“I-,” You sigh and then smile, “Satoru why didn’t you just say that to begin with?”
“B-Because you started making it seem like I’d be taking you on a date date and that’s not what this is-“
“Lemme guess then,” Cutting him off, you’re reminded of something you’ve done before. As such, you take a wild guess as to where this is going, “You want me to pretend to be your girlfriend or something to get your parents off your ass for a night?”
Gojo blinks, “Uhm-, well, yes, actually. That’s exactly what I want you to do.”
A sigh slips out of your mouth, “Again, why didn’t you just say that?”
He pouts and looks away, “I-I don’t know…”
“Satoru…” You utter, stepping closer yet again, there’s barely a foot of space between you and him now and you tip your torso toward him.
Gojo stares down at you, goosebumps unknowingly rising along his skin the longer he peers into those eyes of yours, “Hm?”
Almost innocently, “Do I make you nervous?” You ask, tone light and genuine. You truly weren’t trying to tease him but he may have seemed like you were anyway.
Especially with how he scoffs dramatically, “Pfft, you make me nervous?” Gojo laughs and looks away, “Y-You?” He unintentionally stutters.
You snort and go to mock him, “Y-Yeah, m-me.”
His casual expression returns and he rolls his eyes before settling them onto yours again, “You think you’re soo funny, huh?”
“A lil bit, yeah,” You reply cheekily.
Gojo mirrors your expression with a soft smile, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
“So I’ve been told,” You tease, “Anywho, when uh, when’s that gala of yours?”
The question makes him tense up where he stands and he tries to casually mumble out an answer, “Tonight…”
“T-Tonight?” You gasp, eyes going wide.
Gojo nods, “Mhm…”
You groan slightly before standing up straight, moving to pinch the bridge of your nose and shutting your eyes, “Why’d you wait til’ today to invite me?”
“I was nervous,” He admits honestly, grinning at how cute you look frustrated.
The second your eyes flutter open, he wipes the smile off of his face so you don’t catch him admiring you. Then, you raise a brow at him, “I thought you said I don’t make you nervous?”
Gojo lets off a little shrug, “I lied.”
You grin, “Right, and is there like a dress code I have to follow or…?”
“Yeah, but don’t worry, I can buy you something to wear if you want.” He offers.
That’s oddly kind of him, “Really?” You gape.
“Yeah ‘nd if we go right after I get off today I could even get a dress tailored for you if you want,” Gojo starts to think deeper about this, clearly having not planned this out before asking you.
“But the gala is tonight… How are you gonna-”
“I have my connections,” He chirps confidently.
“Mmmh,” Your eyes narrow at him for a mere second before you nod, “Alright then.”
His face brightens up, “So, you’ll go with me?”
“As your fake girlfriend to impress your family for a night?”
“Mhm.”
You nearly say yes but then, a thought begins to itch your brain and you can’t help but scratch, “Why didn’t you just ask Shoko or something-”
“I wanted to pretend to date someone I’m at least attracted to,” Gojo says as if that was the most obvious thing in the world.
You giggle to yourself and your voice lowers, “Could’ve taken Geto if that was the case-”
“What? I am not-,” Gojo pauses as he notices you snickering. Then he sighs, “Listen, Suguru’s hot, sure, but I’m not interested in him in that kinda way.”
You chuckle, “Mhm, sure you aren’t-”
“I’m interested in you though.” Gojo abruptly blurts out.
Your breath and anything else you were going to say get caught right in the middle of your throat and you choke. Clearing your throat you turn your head to the side to avoid showing how much that caught you off guard. Your face feels as though it were burning and you didn’t even know what to say.
Gojo, finding such a reaction cute as hell, smiles and steps a bit closer to you, eliminating all distance between you and him, the tips of his feet touching yours. A gentle and almost hesitant hand is placed on your waist, making your entire body go rigid as his other hand goes to your chin, forcing you to face him and look him in the eye properly.
“You knew that already though,” He whispers.
It was almost as though the entire atmosphere between you and him had changed in a matter of seconds.
You gulp, “D-Did I?”
Gojo lifts a careful brow, “I talk to you every day and we flirt all the time, isn’t it obvious?”
“I mean, yeah but…” You stare back and forth between his left and right eye— fuck, that shade of blue is so mesmerizing. “You can’t just say it like that,” You murmur lightly.
He tilts his head tauntingly and it makes you nervous for some reason, “I can’t say I’m interested in you?”
Heart skipping a beat, your gaze flies to the side, “No…”
Gojo leans his head in the direction you’ve looked off to, “Why not, pretty girl?”
And it’s right then and there that all your nerves get caught up and you become a stuttering mess, “C-Cause… It’s-,” You stop yourself for a second and he’s still just watching you struggle. Then you try to meet his eyes again and speak but your voice ends up dying off again, “You’re… uhm…”
The corner of his lips twitched into a stupidly attractive smirk, “You nervous?” Gojo teases.
God, if the tone of his voice doesn’t make you want to melt away into nothingness at this very moment. All you can do is nod, “Mhm.”
“I’ve never seen you this nervous,” He comments, eyes trailing up and down your flustered expression. Gojo finds himself whispering a curse beneath his breath, “Fuck. S’kinda cute,” He teases.
You grit your teeth and swallow down your nervousness, trying your best to return to teasing him instead, “Don’t you have a job to get back to?” You utter to change the subject.
The two of you were maddingly close to one another, Gojo’s got a hand lightly on your waist, your chest is a hair away from touching his, and your faces… hell, you swear if you breathe too hard they’ll be touching.
“It can wait,” He murmurs.
You bat your eyelashes as your eyes remain elsewhere, “What for?”
Gojo whispers your name and you tense up, “Look at me,” He directs, making your heart throb. You’re slow to do so but when you do, the two of you pause and simply take in one another's closeness, “See this?” He nods his chin slightly at the little space between you and him.
You sigh, “What?”
“The tension between us,” Gojo explains, eyes lowering down to your lips, “I could never pull this kinda thing off with Shoko.”
A shy little smile spreads across your face, “Right…”
“Nor would I ever have such a strong desire to kiss her,” The man suddenly blurts out. You could tell he didn’t mean to say that out loud by the way his cheeks flushed ever so slightly and his gaze flicked up to your eyes as if he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to.
You maintain eye contact and your breathing finally seems to grow steady, “Are you saying you wanna kiss me?” Tempting, your tone was— leaving Gojo so ridiculously drawn to you.
His gaze is almost full of need, “Would you let me if I did?”
“Maybe,” You utter, tilting your head ever so slightly.
The two of you had been inching your faces closer and closer unknowingly, lips almost against one another with the way you’ve tipped your head to the side.
Gojo looks down at your mouth, “Well I do,” He breathes out, nearly forgetting to finish his statement, “Want to kiss you…” He then clears his throat, “I wanna kiss you, can I?”
Your eyes are just as low as his are, soft breaths hitting one another’s skin before you let out a hum, “Mhm.”
It’s right then that he pauses, almost as if he wasn’t sure you just answered him. In his head, surely this was a mere dream. There was no way the girl he’d met but a month ago was allowing him to kiss her. And yet, there you were, gazing just as longingly as he was, lips almost touching, hearts pounding in unison— an enigma you were, truly.
After his little moment, he finally leans in, shuts his eyes, and presses his lips against yours. The sound of you letting out a hum almost immediately makes Gojo want to swoon, another hand of his grabbing the vacant side of your waist and tugging you closer to him. 
Your chest mashes into him and your arms are quick to move, sliding up and circling around his neck. Gojo’s lips twitch as he smiles against you and you feel his arms start to wrap around your waist, holding you nice and close. His lips were soft against yours, gentle, and slow as he took his time against you.
Your first time kissing Gojo being in the storage room of a cafe was quite laughable, really. Or at least, it would’ve been if things didn’t get heated rather after a bit.
At first, Gojo would just pull away slightly so both of you could breathe, barely open his eyes, and then smile before pressing his lips into yours again. This action was repeated a few times up until you took it upon yourself to part your lips over his, tugging his lower lip into your mouth and attempt pushing your tongue in.
His brows bush together at your action before his body begins to react. Stepping forward with you, Gojo slips his tongue out only to slide past yours and slither into your mouth instead of his. You nearly smiled at how he so clearly wanted to control the kiss, his hands shifting to explore your backside.
One of his hands slid up along your spine and the other dipped down to the small of your back, all as his tongue delved deep into your mouth and you released a slight noise that made his brain turn to mush.
Gojo steps forward with you again and his hand moves to your waist for a second before he starts playing with the edge of your shirt, fingertips just barely brushing over your bare skin. Your feet shuffle back as he begins to kiss you harder, more eagerly, up until your heel hits the edge of a door, prompting both of you to break away from the kiss.
A heavy pant is shared as your lips detach and a wet smack echoes into the air. Your eyes flutter open and you find Gojo still gazing down at your lips, refusing to look away.
You swallow and take a deep breath, “Satoru, we-“
The hand that was up along your spine is removed and Gojo pushes the door behind you shut. Then, all in one motion, he’s using the hand still on your waist to shove you back up against it, your breath getting caught in your throat all over again.
Your lashes flutter once more and you’re just standing there breathless with your mouth agape. Gojo, who’s yet to say a word, is panting so hard that it seems like he’s about to lose himself just from merely kissing you.
You go to whisper to him, “Satoru.”
He just nods, “Mhm…”
“We should… probably stop,” You suggest and you don’t miss how he grips onto your waist for a moment, his eyebrows twisting upward and lip poking out slightly.
“Stop?” Gojo whispers, barely lifting his eyes, “You want me to stop?”
You stare. Then, you look away, “Not really but, we should.”
The man’s got one arm practically above your head that’s still resting against the door, his other holding onto your waist, and his body right against yours. Your hands are loosely at his shoulders and you keep looking away from him, an action that’s genuinely driving him mad.
Gojo tilts his head toward where you’re looking off to and your eyes steadily find his.
“One more,” He whispers.
You blink, “One more?”
He’s nodding all eagerly and it’s kinda cute, “Uhuh.” Then Gojo leans in again.
“Fine but,” The man’s practically got his lips against yours as you try to finish speaking and you can’t help but smile, “…Don’t forget you have a job to go do.” You remind him in a sly whisper.
Gojo scoffs, “M’busy tryin’ to do you,” He utters boldly, “The job can wait.”
And then, his lips are on yours yet again. If his bold words just now didn’t have your body hot then it was definitely the way you feel his hard chest press against yours. God, you could only imagine every cut and crease of his muscles that lay beneath that flimsy shirt and apron of his.
Gojo’s busy tonguing your throat as you fantasize about what he looks like under all those clothes until he gets touchy again. That hand of his finally slips under your shirt and you jump at the contact of his warm veiny hand sliding against your bare side.
The faintest whine escapes the back of your throat and he doesn’t miss it for even a second. Tipping his head further to the side to really press into your mouth, Gojo pulls away for a split second just to whisper, “She’s sensitive,” He teases.
You hum at that but don’t get the chance to verbally reply before his moist lips connect with yours again. Gojo may be a shy idiot at times but you forget all about that while he’s kissing you, his hand sliding to your back again, fingertips caressing your skin before he pulls your body up against his and shifts a single leg in between yours.
Oh he knew what he was doing there. The way his thigh presses against your crotch tells you everything. And he knows his little movement was successful as he feels your hips shift forward against him, yearning for friction.
Gojo pulls back a little just to suck on your lower lip, then he moves to run his teeth over the skin and tug slightly, hearing the way you whine yet again. The arm that was caging you from above slips off of the door and Gojo latches that hand to your hip, guiding you forward against his leg.
Then, it happens. It was such a small sound, such a faint movement, but there you were— letting out a not-so-silent moan of his name, “Satoru,” You call out, not sure what for at this point.
The man just groans before his lips are all over yours, this time slipping off to the side of your mouth, trailing to your jaw, and moving right under your jawline as your head tips back.
“Drivin’ me crazy,” Gojo whispers against your skin, breath warm and ticklish, “Shit.”
Hot and open-mouthed kisses are decorating your neck and both of his hands are on your hips, holding you steady before he starts sliding his leg back and forth just a little bit.
You gasp and one of your hands flies down to his wrist, as if that would stop the movement of his leg. “W-Wait-, fuck, I thought…” You trail off a bit as he shifts his thigh and it suddenly presses against your clothed cunt all too perfectly— his leg was so muscular and the sudden pressure of him pressing against you had your legs weak. “Hahh… S-Satoru, you…”
He pries away from your neck, “Hm?” Gojo hums all innocently as if he doesn’t know what he’s doing.
Gojo lifts his face to get a good look at your expression and fuck if it didn’t take every cell in his body for his cock not to spring up at that very second. Your eyes were all low, lips parted, breathing heavy, and eyebrows twisted up slightly— you were so clearly aroused and the man found it difficult not to savor this moment.
Encouraging this expression of yours, his leg starts moving back and forth against you and he eyes the way your jaw drops further and your torso pushes up, back arching a little.
“Satoru,” Oh the way your voice was all breathy and your eyes full of pure need had his head spinning.
Gojo licks his lips, “What? Y’wanna get off on my leg or somethin’?”
You shake your head, “N-No… I want you to, hah, stop.”
In an instant, almost like a trained dog, his leg just halts. Body freezing and eyes everywhere on you, Gojo looked as though he was awaiting your next order after that.
You take a moment to catch your breath before leaning your head forward and resting against his shoulder, “This was… we uhm… we were getting too… y’know.”
“No,” Gojo taunts, “I don’t know. Why’d you want me to stop, hm? Did I make you uncomfortable?”
Your eyes go wide and you lift your head immediately, “No, you did the exact opposite.”
He has this smug look on his face, “Did I?”
Blinking, your eyes narrow at him, “Yes, you-“
“So why’d you stop me then?” Gojo interrupts.
You choke before clearing your throat, “B-Because we don’t have time to… continue this.”
He scoffs, cocking a brow, “Think so?”
“I know so,” You argue.
As always, he just peers down at you for a long moment, admiring every little thing about you. Then, he shrugs, “Y’know… I could’ve made you cum in a few minutes-“
You slap your hands over his mouth on instinct and your eyes go wide, “…I don’t need you to uh, do that.”
“Why?” His voice is muffled against your palm, “I know you’re turned on.”
“That doesn’t matter,” You argue as you slowly take your hands away, “We don’t have time.”
Gojo chuckles but he’s dead serious as he speaks, “Instead of all this talkin’, I could’ve been knuckle deep inside your pussy gettin’ you off like I know you want me to-“
“Jesus, Satoru,” You breathe, turning your head away from him in pure embarrassment due to the sudden throb in between your legs his words caused.
He pauses, watching how flustered his statement just made you. Then, he smirks, “We probably had enough time for me to get my tongue on you too-“
You frown, “Satoru.”
Gojo continues anyway, “Could’ve been on my knees in between your thighs right now, sweetheart.”
“I-“
“I promise you I’m an expert with my tongue,” He cuts off, staring you down like a man starved.
Gradually bringing yourself to look at him again, you swallow, “I’m sure you are but…”
“But?” His head weighs to the side curiously.
You shrug and nod your chin toward the surrounding area, “…In a storage room, seriously? Shoko’s literally right around the corner and you have to get back to work. We can’t do this.”
“We can, you just don’t want to,” Gojo clarifies.
“Later, Satoru. We can do… this, later,” You result in saying, “A-And preferably somewhere else.”
For a second, he seems to want to plead otherwise but, you do make a good point. He doesn’t need anyone scolding him for getting distracted in the storage room. Sighing, “Promise?” Gojo asks.
You grin, “Yeah, I guess. I-,” You cut yourself off once you notice he’s moved to hold his pinky out for you. You chuckle, “Dork…”
Then, you lock your pinky with his and he flashes this giddy smile at you, dimples poking out once more. “Did you just call me a dork?” He gasps dramatically.
“I did,” You hum as the two of you start to peel off of one another.
Gojo puts on this fake pout, “S’not nice,” He mumbles.
You watch as he moves to open the storage room and smile at him, “But it’s true.”
At that, Gojo simply rolls his eyes and you exit the storage room with him following behind you. The two of you act as though nothing had really happened in there and casually go about your days afterward.
Although, mentally— both of you were gushing over what had just taken place. So much so that after you end up getting your drink of the day from Gojo and wave him and Shoko bye, he’s watching you in awe whilst you get further away from the cafe.
“You fucked her, didn’t you?” Shoko blurts out suddenly, making Gojo snap out of his little reverie. 
Brows furrowing, “Did you hear her moanin’?”
Shoko scoffs, “No.”
“There’s your answer then,” Gojo utters cockily as he turns away with a smirk on his face.
Both chuckle but in Shoko’s mind, the two of you definitely did something in that storage room. She no idiot and you’re not the first girl to have been brought to the back by Gojo. Though, you are the first that’s had him smiling ear to ear like that…
· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·
Meanwhile, you’re practically skipping as you leave the cafe, taking the same path you usually do to head toward the nearby lot.
All you can do is replay everything that just happened, how cute Gojo was, the way he kept looking at you, the way he kissed you, touched you, held you, groaned against you-
Your face is getting hot the more you think about it and before you know it, you’ve got a smile all over your face. Hell, you almost forgot he invited you as his date to some family event of his. His family must be quite rich and important for them to be hosting some gala. 
It makes you wonder whether or not you've ever heard of the Gojo family before him… Alas, with no recollection of such a name, you shrug off the thought and tell yourself you’ll learn more about them later tonight. You’re sure they’ll be just as sweet as Gojo. Maybe they’ll even-
So caught up in your thoughts, you walk right into someone, your head coming in contact with someone’s chest and feeling pain in seconds. Fuck, did you walk into a wall?
Lifting a hand to your forehead, you rub it slightly, “Sorry, didn’t mean to walk into-,” Your gaze lifts to the person and your facial expression drops, “Oh. It’s just you. Your chest is hard as hell…”
Choso bats his lashes at you in disbelief, “Thank you?”
You roll your eyes, “Not a compliment.”
He chuckles and tips his head to the side, watching you rub your skin to soothe the pain. On instinct, Choso lifts his hand, swats your fingers away, and shifts to help ease the pain himself, “Yeah it is, dumbass. Means’ goin’ to the gym has been paying off.” He argues.
You sigh and drop your hand, allowing him to massage where it hurts like it’s nothing, “Whatever-“
“Lemme guess, you jus’ came from seein’ your boyfriend?” Choso questions curiously.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” You huff and his hand slides a bit to caress you, “But yes, I am coming from the cafe if that’s what you’re askin’. Where are you headed?”
“To get a coffee, duh,” Your best friend huffs. His voice completely contrasts how softly he’s touching you right now and it’s almost laughable.
You nod, “Uhuh, well, have fun.” The dismissiveness in your tone makes Choso feel weird.
After all, ever since you met Gojo, you’ve practically found yourself a new best friend. Even though you and Choso live in the same apartment, he swears he hasn’t been seeing or talking to you much within the past month and it’s odd for him to experience.
So, as you pull your head away from his hand and go to step past him, he’s blurting out, “Wait,” Without a second thought.
You pause and look at him, “Hm?”
“Uh,” Choso stares for a minute, forgetting why the hell he stopped you before he clears his throat, “You alright?”
Blinking, “Yes, why? Your chest wasn’t that hard, I just walked into you so-“
“No, I mean like, in general.” He explains, turning his body so that he’s facing you completely, “We haven’t talked much lately.”
That statement makes you freeze and you stare at your best friend with the most confused look ever. He’s not usually this concerned so, it’s almost weird to see, “I’m fine, Cho. Is everything okay with you?”
Almost like a little puppy, Choso nods his head, “Y-Yeah,” He’s quick to clear his throat and you may have imagined it but you swear the tips of his ears just went red, “Yeah, m’fine. I just uh… I dunno, miss talkin’ to my best friend, is all.”
You gasp overdramatically, “Do you??” Oh the teasing tone has him regretting what he just said in seconds, “Awww Chosoo, you miss me-“
“Don’t ruin it,” He cuts off, but you’re already moving to wrap your arms around his waist and hug him. Choso sighs and looks down at you embracing him, gulping, “Get off of me.”
You shift your head to look up at him and smile, “Hug me back first, don’t be weird. You’re the one who said you missed me-“
“I said I missed talking to you,” Choso huffs, not moving his arms in the slightest.
You frown, “Cho…”
“Stop calling me that,” He sighs, avoiding looking at your expression all of a sudden.
Rolling your eyes, you give up and start to pull away from him. Yet, your weirdo of a best friend finally moves to tug you back toward him, big arms wrapping around your head and pulling you into his chest gently. You chuckle against him and he grumbles something under his breath.
“We can talk after my class, okay?” You hum into his chest.
Choso nods, “Will you actually be home for once?”
“For a lil’ bit, yeah,” You snicker, “I actually have a lot to tell you but I’ll save it for after class, ‘kay?”
He looks down at you in his arms and you angle your head to look up at him. Choso’s expression is as unreadable as always but you’re smiling. As such, he just barely grins at you, “Alright.” He grumbles in that deep voice of his.
You beam and then pull off of him, to which he almost reluctantly lets you go. And then, his eyes drop to that drink in your hand and he nearly says something but he holds his tongue, instead moving to wave you bye whilst you turn away.
You return a wave of departure to him before walking off. Choso stands there for a while, watching you get further away from him. It was weird but, for the first time in a while, he was almost excited to talk to you later.
He wonders what it is you want to share with him, especially since you usually share everything with him but haven’t been doing so recently. Perhaps you were just too caught up with Gojo Satoru, Choso wonders to himself. At that thought, he sucks his teeth and rolls his eyes, stuffing his hands into his pockets and moving to continue his walk.
All Choso can do is hope that your becoming friends with Gojo hasn’t changed anything between you and him. After all, he’s the one who’s been by your side for nearly eight years…
With that, Choso chuckles at himself. The hell is he getting all worked up for? Clearly, based on that little hug and the smiles you gave, you still see him as your best friend. He’s not being replaced.
…Right?
Or was it just that you were only happy because of something that’d happened with Gojo? Scoffing, Choso tries to clear his head a bit. The fuck has gotten into him? It’s you he’s talking about here. Again, he’s not being replaced.
Or at least he thinks he’s not…
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cosmicbucky · 11 months
Text
verity
summary: an inadvertently broken heart and a girls' night in can only lead to one thing: you drunkenly confronting the very man who broke your heart in the first place - aka your best friend, bucky barnes pairing: bucky barnes x female reader word count: 3253
warnings: angst, alcohol consumption, reader gets drunk with friends, pet names, sad bucky, sad reader, drunk confessions, swearing, misunderstandings, reader gets sick (vomit), fluff, kinda friends to lovers (??)
《《《《 ♡ 》》》》
The music flowed through the living room around you, quiet enough to not overpower the conversations you were having with your friends, but loud enough for you to know what you were swaying in your seat to. 
It had been a while since you had a girls' night, though you were all but forced into this one; it was made clear by Nat that your presence was not an option - you were the only reason you were all gathered here now, each of you at least a bottle or two in. 
At first you resisted. You wanted nothing more than to wallow alone in your room, watching trash TV and crying over cheesy scenes. It wasn't that you didn't love the company you had right now, you just wanted other company. You wanted the same company you had every day for the last year. The same company that became your only solace ever since it took a literal bullet for you without thought just to keep you safe. The same company that read your favourite books so you had someone to talk to about them. The same company that sat with you and watched all your favourite shows so they could get a better glimpse of who you are and what you like. The same company you thought you were finally getting somewhere with. 
It felt like you got hit by a truck when the words "You know Bucky's been dating?" nonchalantly left Sam's mouth one day while you were having lunch. You didn't want to know more about it. You didn't want to know who they were, how the two met, or what they did for a living. You didn't want to be told anything other than the fact Sam was joking, that what you thought you had with Bucky really was real and not just in your head. Sam never said anything close to that, though. 
Bucky never brought up the dates to you, and you almost felt that was even worse than if he did. Why did he not want to tell you? Were you really not as close as you thought? Did he not trust you enough to tell you such a thing? Your thoughts continuously spiraled over the next few days, stealing away your self confidence and the air from your lungs. Nothing was the same anymore. You thought you knew where you stood with Bucky. You thought it all meant something. All the stares from across the room, the lingering touches, the 'just because' gifts, the movie nights, the sleepovers, all of it. But it meant nothing. You read it all wrong. And now it's been two weeks since you were able to look at him long enough for you to even say hi to him, let alone have a conversation with him. 
Bucky noticed the shift the moment it happened; when you slid ever so slightly away from him when he tried to hold you in his arms like he did every movie night. He noticed when the smile stopped reaching your eyes. He noticed when you stopped showing up for dinners with the gang every night. He noticed when you couldn't hold his gaze anymore. He noticed that you two just weren't the same, and it killed him. It killed him because he didn't know what he did, and he tried everything under the sun to get things back to the way they were, but nothing worked.
Everyone noticed when his demeanor changed. His fuse was shorter, his temper was stronger. He spent even more time in the training room, pummeling and destroying bag after bag until his knuckles were bloody; letting himself heal overnight only to do it all again the next day. He shamelessly threw a dining chair into a wall when Tony made a joke about how you must have smartened up and finally got sick of him, and his expression was so murderous that a Code White was called, effectively resulting in him being locked down in his room for a full 24 hours - he ended up staying in there even after the lockdown was over. The only reason he started leaving the confines of his room was to spend time with his best girl, and he didn't have that anymore.
All your friends were sick of it. They didn't know what was going on, and you both refused to talk about it. No one could even mention the others' name to either of you anymore without fear of having the nearest object thrown at their head. 
So plans were formed, and you now sat on the couch with a glass in your hand as you mindlessly swayed to whatever song was currently playing. 
"Who is in charge of this music? It is awful!" Yelena stated from her spot on the floor, taking yet another shot. 
"I picked it," you crooned, stilling your movements as you looked at her. "It's completely free of attachments to you-know-who."
A cohesive muttering came from all the women before you, and Yelena cleared her throat. "It is not bad," she corrected with a grimace, taking pity on you. 
"Are you drunk enough to tell us what happened now?" Nat asked, raising an eyebrow at you. 
Downing the rest of your glass, you looked at her with a thoughtful expression for a minute. "No," you concluded, filling your glass again. 
"Okay, this is torture. Time for a drinking game!" Wanda exclaimed, standing from her chair. "Everyone take a mustache and tape it to the TV. We're putting on a trash show and drinking whenever it lines up with someone."
You beamed with excitement, ready to both watch crappy TV and get drunk - gods know you needed at least one night to forget about Bucky. 
And forget you did. You can't remember the last time you were this far gone, the last time you had this much fun. The drinking game was very successful; it even got Yelena and Nat a little tipsy, which was not easy to do. No one said anything when you went a little harder than everyone else, when you drank a little more, taking shots when you weren't technically supposed to. You haven't smiled like this in weeks, and they weren't going to take that away from you. 
Your giggles carried on down the hallway, the echoes of your voice, of your laughter, music to everyone's ears - having gone so long now without hearing it. It captured someone's attention, socked feet being dragged towards the sound before even knowing what was happening, a seat being taken in the kitchen just to be that much closer, eyes gazing across at you, a face with such an amorous expression it would have made anyone who saw it sick. 
You audibly gasped as you caught sight of him, your eyes meeting his for the briefest of seconds before he looked away, contemplating whether he should go back to his room or not. 
"Oh, my god. Why is he here?" you asked the girls, unable to take your eyes off of him. 
"Why is who here?" Kate asked, following your gaze. "Him? What are you talking about he-"
"We don't know!" Nat chimed in, sending a warning glare to Kate that you were too distracted to see. 
"Why don't you go talk to him and find out?" Wanda suggested, quickly catching on to Nat's motive. 
You shook your head vehemently, making yourself momentarily dizzy. "Noooo. He broke my heart, Wan. What would I even say?" you replied with a whine, sinking into the couch as you lifted the glass to your lips again. 
She shared a look with Nat, two looks that said 'fuck, maybe we shouldn't let her do this' and 'what the hell does she mean by that?' You couldn't decipher either, though. The blood was rushing in your ears as you stared across the room again, torn between going to confront this beautiful, asshole of a man and staying in the comfort of the living room.
Before you could really think it through - and in your state, it's not like you really could anyway - you abruptly stood from the couch, taking a few seconds to steady yourself on your feet. 
"Fuck him," you muttered to yourself, vaguely aware of the girls trying to get your attention as you marched across the floor. 
His head snapped up when he heard you coming, his enhanced hearing paired with the fact you weren't exactly in a graceful state didn't give you the advantage of sneaking up on him. 
"Hi, doll," he said once you approached him.
Had you been in a more collected frame of mind, you probably would have noticed how quiet his voice was, how strained it was from the fact he was holding his breath in the hopes the two of you would go back to normal. You would have noticed the pain, the hurt, the confusion, and the hope dancing around in his eyes; making the blue that used to be your favourite colour now dull and stormy. 
You didn't notice, though. All you noticed was the burning pain in your heart that was supposed to be gone after all those drinks, but just one look at the man before you brought everything back. 
"You can't call me that anymore," you declared, shaking your head so much it made the room spin even more. "You gotta keep that name reserved now," you added bitterly. 
"Reserved?" Bucky asked, his brow knit together in confusion. "For who?" 
You scoffed, walking forward to close the distance that was left between you and the table he sat at. A few steps in and you lost your footing, but before you could even stumble Bucky was already out of his seat. His hands were on your arms in an instant, the feeling of hot and cold both burning your skin in a familiar way. The tenderness of his touch and the yearning you felt for it after all this time was almost too much to bear; your mind was spinning. Spinning from alcohol. Spinning from heartache. Spinning from anger. Spinning, spinning, spinning. 
"Let go of me!" you exclaimed angrily, shrugging yourself out of his grasp. "I don't think your little lover would want you touchin' me." 
Bucky could only stand there, blinking in surprise with his hands still outstretched. "My what?" he asked, his hands slowly falling back to his sides. "My lover?" he repeated. 
"Yeah, your lover - or… whatever the hell you want to call them. Sam told me, because you didn't," you told him indignantly. 
"I- what? Sam told you? Sam told you what?" he asked, more confused than ever. 
"That you're dating someone!" you yelled, the anguish clear in your voice. 
Bucky sighed and ran his hands over his face in exasperation before resting them on his hips, his lips pursed as he collected his thoughts. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he finally asked, trying to put the pieces together in his head. 
"Didn't expect me to know, did you?" you spat furiously. 
"I don't- sweetheart, what the hell is going on?" he asked softly, trying his best to remain patient. You were finally talking to him again, and it's definitely not the way he imagined but he'd be damned if he was going to let you slip through his fingers again. 
"No!" you said forcefully. "I'm not your sweetheart. She is. Whoever she is." 
"There is no ‘she’," Bucky told you calmly, trying his hardest to make sense of what was going on. 
"Okay, then he is!" you replied in defeat, finally throwing yourself down on the chair beside you. 
"What? No, that's not-" he tried to answer you, but you quickly cut him off. 
"Why didn’t you want to tell me?" you asked quietly, your voice cracking. 
“Because… I’m not dating anyone,” he replied slowly, more of a question than a statement. 
“Just stop lying!” you yelled, hands slamming onto the table. “Please, I can’t take you lying to me anymore, okay? You’ve been lying to me all year,” you added in desperation, your eyes starting to glisten with tears. 
“All year?” he asked, his voice quiet and shaky as he slid into the seat across from you. 
You could only nod your head, bottom lip trembling as the first tears started to fall down your cheeks. Bucky started burning from the inside out, wanting nothing more than to wrap you in his arms and kiss the tears away- but he couldn’t. So he stayed where he was, swallowing thickly as he willed himself not to start crying with you. 
“I never lied to you, you know that,” he said carefully. 
“You did, because this whole time you-... I really thought-... you made me think-” you couldn’t get the words out, falling silent as you tried to collect yourself.
Bucky instinctively reached his hands across the table to you before he caught himself, pulling them back and setting them on his lap. "What did I make you think?" 
"That you trusted me. That we meant something to each other," you explained softly, swallowing back more tears. "I thought you loved me back," you added, your voice so quiet it would have been inaudible to anyone other than him. 
"What?" Bucky breathed out, the air being stolen from his lungs with those last six words that spilled from your trembling lips. 
"I know you heard me." 
"Okay- now is not the time for this conversation," he sighed, running his hands over his face. 
You sat in silence for a moment, looking at him with such an recognizable expression Bucky felt like he was looking at a completely different person. "Figures," you muttered before shoving your chair back and standing up. 
"What are you doing?" Bucky asked, half out of his seat as he watched to make sure you were steady on your feet. 
Without another word to him, you turned and carefully started to make your way out of the kitchen and towards your bedroom. 
"Don't you dare walk away from me!" Bucky called from behind you, quickly on your heels. "No, you're not allowed to leave me like this again." 
"You left me first!" you yelled back, placing your hand on the wall to keep your balance as you walked a little faster. 
"I never left you once!" he argued, still hot on your trail. 
You scoffed, shoving open the door to your room and trying to slam it in his face; the attempt was unsurprisingly futile. "Stop following me, you said you don't want to talk."
"No, I said this isn't the time for this conversation," he huffed, shoving his way into your room and closing the door behind him. 
"Why? You don't want to admit what you did?" you asked, stumbling your way to sit on the bed. 
"For fucks sake, I didn't even do anything!" he defended with exasperation, leaning against the door.
"Yes you did," you argued, attempting to take off your sweater. 
"I'm telling you, I didn't," he told you, trying his best to not let out a laugh as he watched you struggle to lift the sweater over your head. 
"You did!" you yelled, voice muffled by the fabric. "You lied, and you kept secrets, and you - god, can you fucking help me?!" you asked with a huff, interrupting your own rant. 
Bucky suppressed his laugh as he stepped forward, kneeling down in front of you. "Alright, alright. Stop fuckin' squirmin'," he muttered. 
You stilled, muttering a few choice words under your breath that did not go unnoticed by him. Grasping the hem of your sweater, he carefully lifted it up and over your head to reveal your disheveled, pouting face. 
"There's my girl," he whispered softly, delicately brushing back your mussed hair. 
"I'm not-" you started to argue, before he quickly cut you off.
"Yes. You. Are," he said firmly, enunciating each word.
"But Sam-"
"Is an idiot," he insisted, cutting you off again. "He tried to set me up with someone but I never went. When he asked me about it, I told him we were gonna go out again so he'd stop fucking bugging me about it. I lied, sweetheart. I was never dating anyone." 
"You- there was no one?" you asked quietly. 
"There was no one else," he told you, his thumbs brushing away stray tears you didn't even know were falling. 
Before you could ask him what that meant, your room started spinning once more and your mouth felt like cotton and your stomach felt like it was making its way up your throat.
"I don't feel so good," you mumbled, staring at him with wide eyes for a moment before rushing to your bathroom, barely making it on time. 
Bucky was at your side in the blink of an eye, holding back your hair as you let loose the contents of your girls' night, his hand ghosting up and down your back. He sat patiently with you, muttering comforting words between each second of you getting sick as you gasped for air and sobbed, occasionally wiping your face with tissues. 
"Better?" he asked after a few minutes, his hands never leaving you. 
You could only nod in response, shifting away from him to rest against the bathtub as you closed your eyes. 
Bucky immediately fell into his old habits, wasting no time in taking care of you. The only thing that destroyed him more than not having you in his life lately was watching you practically wither away, unable to do a damn thing about it. 
"Drink, sweet girl," he told you, caressing your cheek in an attempt to rouse you before handing you the water you had no idea he even retrieved. 
You blinked up at him, taking a moment to process what was going on before taking the glass from him. As you drank he gathered up a washcloth, running it under cold water before kneeling before you once more. 
"C'mere," he whispered, taking your chin in one hand to hold you in place as he gently wiped your face. Your eyes closed once more, sighing in content as the cold water eased the burning under your skin. 
"I love you," you found yourself telling him. Your voice was a delicate whisper, but the words were so heavy you felt like they echoed off the tiles surrounding you anyway. 
Bucky stayed quiet, but you refused to open your eyes and look at him. Looking at him would make this moment real, so as long as you kept your eyes closed, you could pretend none of this ever happened. 
"Let's get you to bed," he finally said, causing your world to implode once more. 
Completely defeated, you allowed him to lift you from the floor. 
Not having the energy to fight him anymore, you cooperated as he helped you into some sleep clothes. 
Wanting to just hide away forever, you let him tuck you under the covers, pressing a kiss to your forehead before he slid in beside you, wanting to be there in case you got sick again.
The room was engulfed by silence for so long it almost felt like it was suffocating you, but just before your whirling mind finally succumbed to the allure of sleep you heard Bucky's gentle voice speaking out to you.
"Sleep this off, angel. Because when I explain to you how in love with you I am, I want to make damn sure you can remember what I say."
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traumawhomst · 22 days
Text
Ok but adoptive Fae King Dad rotating in my mind like a rotisserie chicken.
(800 words)
At first he thought you were a perfect chance to teach some humans a lesson. Letting a child walk alone in woods where Fae were known to live? Someone was going to learn sooner or later.
He stood dramatically waiting for your attention, ready to launch into a full lecture about how because of your neglectful parents he was going to turn you into some yet undecided woodland creature.
But you surprise him, you’re smart enough to know the potential trouble you’re in but also openly curious about him.
He’s always been a bit vain so when you start asking questions about him, his clothes and his magic, he can’t help himself from giving all the answers you wish.
Before he’s realized it, it’s been an afternoon and you’re politely requesting his help in bringing you home.
All plans of turning you into a bird or a squirrel are forgotten as he walks you to the forest’s edge warning you of the dangers of his domain.
He watches you make your way back to the hovel you call a home and he is already deciding in which wing of his palace you’ll be staying in.
You’re not the first child he’s taken an interest in, you have a few siblings at home you’ve yet to meet. None of which are surprised when their father comes home in a whirlwind already barking orders to his staff about getting rooms ready, clothes made and a ball to formally introduce you to his court as his youngest child.
He’s surprised when you willingly come back to his forest, sure that your parents would forbid it after you’d told them about Him, already four steps deep into a plan on how he was going to lure you back. But now he sees a much simpler path forward.
You started to come to the forest nearly daily and you talk and explore with him for hours at a time. It became a comfortable and solid routine, and you trusted if you came he would be there.
He immediately can tell how starved for attention you are, happily rambling about whatever you wished as you and Him walked together in his forest. The perfect foundation to build his plan on.
One day while you two are relaxing in the forest, you make mention of his more unnatural features, his horns, his wings, his teeth, with a tiny hint of jealousy.
He casually brings up his other children, talking about how they were once human, but now were fully Fae like him. A simple transformation, really. He says pretending not to notice the hunger that grows in your eyes.
He loves to compliment you, about how brave, smart and curious you were. He’d often go on about how proud your family must be of you. How they must’ve showered you in praise. Of course he’s not surprised when you nod and smile along, the smile not reaching your eyes.
He knows that it’s almost time when you bring up his other children, asking about what they were like. Watching you pretend not to care about the answer made him want to forget all his plans and take you home then. But he did not become King through rushed action.
So he talks about them and he’s unable to contain his joy and love when he does. All of them unique and interesting each he loved more than the world its self. He explained how all of his children chose to be with him. All from less than perfect homes, all who saw the life he offered and took it.
Then you and your parents have a fight, you’re spending too much time alone in the forest and now people are gossiping about your family.
Even at your young age, you know that the fact that they care more about people’s gossip than your safety and it escalates to a huge mess. Your parents forbid you from ever going to the forest again and it’s your breaking point.
That night you sneak out running to the forest as quick as possible, and as always he is waiting for you with open arms. He holds you as you cry, everything coming out about how your parents never cared and how you wished to have a parent like him.
Your face is buried in his shirt and so you don’t see the smile that slowly grows over his face. He gently calms you down and says how happy he’d be to have a child like you. And if you wanted, you could become as much of a Fae as he. You even get a family as a bonus.
How could you ever say no?
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