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yanaromanov · 1 month

Text

in unholy denial

･｡ﾟ*. 18+, minors DNI . * ｡ﾟ･

pairing: wanda maximoff x reader

summary: you’re the perfect all-american girl; a good student, a weekly churchgoer, you’re even dating the high school quarter back. so it’s all a big shock to you when your family decides to send you to a conversion camp, claiming they believe you’re a lesbian. you don’t agree with their accusation, telling everyone that you don’t like girls at all. but then you meet your camp mate wanda maximoff, who seems determined to sway your mind in another direction…

warning(s): conversion therapy, homophobia (externalised and internalised), religious mentions (christianity), smut, fingering, thigh riding, loss of virginity, hickeys, slight dubcon (only kissing), swearing, pet names (princess, honey), wanda and r are in high school but of age (over 18), cheating (r has a bf), slightly innocent reader, nude magazine, etc. minors dni

author’s note: this is my first time writing and uploading smut so i really hope it’s not terrible 🙏🏻this is heavily inspired by ‘but i’m a cheerleader’, only this time it’s with teenage wanda and much more smutty :) i also took light inspiration from @imaginedanvrs and her fic ‘atonement’, and though i did take a different turn, check it out because all of their writing is amazing :))

wc: 11.7K words

The car is quite on the ride up. You stare out the window, watching as your world begins to disappear. The camp is just under two hours away from your home town; far away enough that it feels like a whole different world, but close enough that your parents can still come visit on the weekends.

You’re not being punished. At least that’s what your parents have told you. They just want what’s best for you, want to help you find the right journey in life. Apparently this camp was supposed to do that for you. Though, you could quite see how - the apparent problem they claim to be able to fix, not identifiable to any part of your mind.

When they’d first brought up the idea, you’d been quick to confusion. A conversion therapy camp? But you weren’t gay. You had a boyfriend, the football team’s best quarterback at that, and you two were very happy together. He was handsome and kind, and you loved him. Except for maybe when he tried to kiss you, always left feeling grossed out by the encounter as his tongue tried to play with yours. But he must just be a bad kisser. That was at least what you always told yourself…

Aside from that, there were so many things that couldn’t have possibly lead your parents to believe you were gay. You were one of the top students at school, always getting the highest grades. Every Sunday you attended church, said your nightly prayers each evening before you slept. You were in the church choir, for goodness sake!

Still, your parents had sat you down in the living room one night and had a very serious conversation with you. They were concerned mostly, worried that something sinister had crept in and was tainting your life. You’d used all of your excuses in protest but they’d came prepared with their own.

A few posters from your room, filled with woman in bikini tops. You liked the patterns. Songs from your playlist that held ulterior meaning. You just liked the way they sound. The fact you hated kissing your boyfriend; a few comments you’d made to your friends about other girls at church. You thought everyone felt that way…

In the end, they’d convinced you to come along to the program, claiming it was in your best interest to attend and get the help you need. Although you didn’t believe you needed any help at all, you had agreed. If this camp was going to help them feel better, you were willing to give it a go, even if it meant getting treatment for a nonexistent problem…

Still, your heart aches a little as your small family car drives away from the suburbs you are used to, the view soon replaced by dense forest trees and vibrant undergrowth. The program was set out almost like a Summer camp, out near a lake where members could swim during their free time. That was one of the activities you’d read in the pamphlet your parents had handed you, the camp explained in its entirety alongside its promise to guarantee positive results. You’d initially asked your parents how long you would have to spend there, worried about being forced to remain when there wasn’t a problem with you to begin with, but your mom had simply smiled back softly and replied, ‘let’s just see how you get on’.

You’re almost lost in thought when the car finally turns on to the last stretch of its journey. The sight ahead of you drags you back to the present moment, eyes now searching the wide opening in the trees as the camp comes into view. It’s easy to spot, the only buildings around for a long while, and the white shutters standing out vibrantly against the green trees. The lake comes into view too, shimmering in the morning summer sun.

Soon the car slows, coming to a halt outside what looks to be the main building, its size large compared to the other’s dotted around. The ranch-style house is painted a soft blue, the fixtures and wrap-around porch shining dazzling white. All in all, it looks rather beautiful.

Your parents are the first out the car, looking around as they close the doors. You follow a moment later, eyes drifting over your surroundings as you inhale the sweet smells of the forest air. A pair of footsteps soon diverts your attention, your gaze falling to a tall blonde man making his way in your direction from the large blue house. He’s dressed very similarly to the men you see at church; a pair of neat navy slacks and a matching blue and white gingham shirt. You and your parents come to stand together on one side of the car just as he reaches your feet.

“Good morning,” the blonde says, his grin reaching from ear to ear. “Mr and Mrs Y/L/N, isn’t it?” There’s an exchange of hand shakes as your parents confirm his assumption. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. And you must be young Y/N.” His gaze falls to you as he speaks, a hand outstretching in your direction.

You take it, shaking it gently as you nod your head. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

The blonde lets out a low chuckle as he releases your hand, his attention turning back to your parents. “What a polite little girl you have,” he says, his smile widening. Your parents seem to take pride in his compliment, inching closer together as they stand and look over at you. “But please,” the man continues, turning back to you. “My name is reverend Steve so you can call me as such. Or just Steve if you prefer.” He smiles again as he shrugs his shoulders. “Sir always feels a bit too formal.”

There’s a trade of small laughter between the adults but you don’t find yourself joining in, still feeling a little apprehensive about this whole scenario.

“I do hope your journey here was alright.”

“Oh, just fine,” your father replies in response to reverend Steve’s question, smiling easily back at him.

“Good. I’m so glad to hear that. We’re just so happy to have Y/N here. And don’t worry, your daughter is in very good hands.”

Just at that moment, you notice another figure approaching your group, a woman, originating from the same place Steve had. When she reaches you, there’s a soft smile on her face, her red hair dazzling in the Summer sun. The reverend reaches one of his arms out, bringing the woman close to his side as his hand rests on her hip. “I’d like you to meet my wife, Natasha. She helps direct things around here, especially with the girls.”

Her hand also extends out to your parents to meet in a soft handshake as she smiles widely back at them. “Hi, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” With your parents, reciprocating the sentiment, the redhead then turns her attention to you. Her eyes sparkle a bright shade of green as the morning sun hits them. “Hello, Y/N,”

You find yourself momentarily stumbling over your words, something about the woman distracting you until she speaks. “Good morning,” you manage eventually, smiling back nervously.

In the time you’ve greeted her, it seems your parents have retrieved your luggage from the back of the car. “These are your bags?” Reverend Steve asks, reaching to pick them up. In truth, you hadn’t even noticed them being moved there. “I’ll just take these up to your dorm room, Y/N.” He smiles once more at you before he turns, walking towards the house with your belongings in tow.

“I’ll give them a little check over once we get there,” Natasha says, drawing your attention back to her. She passes you a playful wink that causes a strange feeling in your chest. “But I’m sure there’s nothing in there that will get you in trouble, hm?”

“I don’t think-“ Your response is cut off by your sudden realisation you’re standing alone, your parents retreating back to the car and already starting the engine. “Wait I-“

“Don’t worry.” The redhead’s words yet again distract you, pulling your attention away from the vehicle behind you. “They’ll be back at the weekend to visit. You’ll be seeing them again in no time.” Natasha turns to stand side by side with you, her hand resting on your back as she gently begins to press you forwards. “Now how about you just come with me and I can show you around the place. How does that sound?”

“A-alright,” you stumble, giving one glance back to the car that has already pulled away from the camp. You let the woman by your side guide you as you watch it slowly move further and further away up the road, officially leaving you all alone.

The tour Natasha gives you, however, helps to lift your spirits a little. The camp grounds are rather beautiful, the grass vibrant and speckled with small colourful flowers. The buildings themselves are also very pleasant, all adding to the soft summer camp feel the area had. Natasha first directs you to the small bunker home her and Steve resided in, claiming members were not allowed inside but there was a small bell if you ever needed them at any time. Next, she shows you the church; a small yet grand building with dazzling stained glass windows. As you walk the pews, Natasha tells you how their service is held each morning, directed by Steve himself.

“I hear you’re in your church choir?” Natasha quips as you take in the way the light hits the windows, spreading bright colours across the floor of the building.

“Yes,” you reply, lifting your head and smiling sheepishly. “I have been since I was thirteen.”

“You’ll have to sing for us one time,” Natasha says playfully, before beckoning you out of the church and off to your next destination. On your way, she explains a little of how their program works; a mixture of group lessons and singular sessions to help you understand your problem. “Do you still attend bible study, Y/N?” Natasha asks as you approach the main building.

Shyly, you turn to face her. “No. I stopped a few years ago when I turned sixteen.”

The redhead clicks her tongue but overall doesn’t seem too disappointed, still smiling over you. “Don’t worry,” she replies. “I’m sure our study will set you just right again.” She passes you another wink before you step in through another door that she opens ahead of you.

The building has a wide front opening, a set of grand stairs set out ahead in the expanse of the tall ceilings. At the bottom of them, you suddenly notice a tall girl standing there. She’s wearing a neat uniform, her long black hair pulled back into two braids. “Y/N,” Natasha says, gesturing towards the girl. “I’d like you to meet Kate. She’ll be your mentor while you settle in.”

The raven-hair girl smiles at you as she extends a hand. You shake it, sharing a quick greeting before she hands you a welcome packet. Natasha explains how all of the rules are written inside, alongside a list of other expectations and your schedule for your stay. You hold on to it against your chest as the pair walk you around the house on your continued tour.

Inside of the main building, it feels somewhat like a mixture of a house and a school. There are two classrooms, both filled with a set of students learning from a tutor at the front of the class. A large dining hall was also set up, functioning like a school canteen. Downstairs there were a few recreational spaces with small couches arranged around card tables, all littered with various bible verse posters along the walls. As you move upstairs, Natasha shows you the bathrooms and the couple isolation rooms they had, though she assured you, you most likely wouldn’t be spending any time in there.

“Now, let’s get you some uniform, hm?” Natasha says, moving further down the corridor. She opens a long cupboard, filled with rows of pleated skirts and crisp white shirts. She looks through the rails before handing you a set of uniform in your size. Her and Kate then give you some privacy in the cupboard to change while they step outside.

The uniform is light blue, the skirt pleated through with lines of navy. The sweater vest is a matching dark blue, the logo of the camp embroidered onto one breast. You pull it on over the white button shirt, followed by the long white socks and black patent shoes Natasha had also provided. When you step out of the cupboard, the older woman takes hold of your old clothes, claiming she’ll take care of them for you until you’d be needing them again. You’re not entirely sure what she means but she’s continuing on with the tour once more before you can truly give it much thought.

“These are the girl’s dormitories,” the redhead says as she opens another door, guiding you inside. As you step in, you notice two rows of small cots, lined up with matching pink floral bedsheets. You notice one on the end, your bags sat atop waiting for you. But what catches your eye even more, is the brunette girl splayed across one of the middle beds, a magazine between her hands. She looks up as all three of you walk into the room, her green eyes meeting directly with you.

“Miss Maximoff,” Natasha says as soon as she notices the girl. “Aren’t you supposed to be in your lessons right now?”

The girl diverts her gaze to the camp director. “I didn’t feel well so I came to lie down.”

The way the girl lay across her stomach, face perfectly amused as her eyes flitted across her magazine didn’t exactly come across to you as unwell. It seems that Natasha too picks up on her lie, simply passing the brunette a small scowl. “Nice try.”

There’s a moment where the girl stares back, almost daring the women with her gaze, but she soon gives up, instead rolling her eyes as a long frustrated sigh escapes her lips. “Fine,” she mumbles, lifting herself up from the bed and slowly walking towards you. As she does, you notice how her shirt is unbuttoned further down and how her skirt is rolled at her waist, climbing the front of her thighs.

Natasha seems unfazed by her antics, simply holding out her hand which the brunnete places her magazine into with another sigh. The redhead gives it a once over before staring back at the girl. “This is contraband. Where did you find it?”

The brunette simple smirks in response. Her shoulders briefly brushes against yours as she squeezes her way through your group, headed towards the door. Before she leaves, she turns, walking gently backwards as the smirk widens on her face. “The Lord showed me the way to it.” She turns again quickly, disappearing from the dormitory alongside her lingering gaze.

Natasha doesn’t make any move to follow her, simply inclines her head as as she shouts down the corridor. “Roll down your skirt, Miss Maximoff!” Her voice still echoing, the redhead then turns back to you, that perfect smile returning almost as quickly as it at dropped. “I’m so sorry about that,” she says, glancing down at you. “Some of the other girls are a little…challenged in finding the light. Sometimes they can be a bad influence but I’m sure if you just stick with Kate, you’ll be just fine.”

You glance at the tall girl stood beside you, her soft grin looking back. “If you have any questions, feel free to ask Kate. Or of course, me or Steve at any point,” Natasha adds, drawing your attention back to her. You nod in response and she smiles back, placing a hand on to your shoulder. “Now, how about we take a look at your bags?”

———

Settling in isn’t as hard as you thought it might be. Kate is nice, you discover quickly, and helps you get unpacked. You tuck your things away into the drawers under your bed, then some more of your belongings in to the bedside table - next to the complementary bible you find tucked inside. Kate explains you can put up some photos with blue tac if you wish, pointing out to some of the other girls’ beds who have done the same. You borrow some of said blue tac from her as you stick a photo of your family alongside one of you and your boyfriend up on to the wall.

Afterwards, Kate sits with you while you look through your welcome packet. A lot of it relates to the pamphlet your parents had given you before your arrival, talking all about the camp and its methods of tackling what they phrase, ‘the misdirection of youths towards homosexuality’. The entire idea is still a little scattered in your head, but you brush it aside as you delve further into the rules and scheduling of the camp.

There are quite a few rules written down, a lot of which you recognise from your own home regulations. No curse words are to be used, nor any other inappropriate language. The Lord’s name must not be used in vain. Members must pray before each meal and every night before bed. Uniform must be worn at all times.

Then there are other rules that make you feel a little more uncertain. There is strictly NO fraternising between members. No member is permitted in the opposite dormitory to which they are assigned. Any inappropriate belongings will be confiscated.

The last rule makes you wonder back to the girl you’d seen sat inside the dormitory. There have been something ‘inappropriate’ about her magazine, obviously leading to the confiscation by Natasha. You weren’t quite sure what about it could be so bad, the name you’d glanced at briefly unrecognisable before Natasha had quickly stashed it away from your sight. If anything, the whole ordeal had only made you more curious about the strange girl and what exactly she had been reading.

As if the universe could hear your thoughts, it’s barely a few hours later when you collide with the girl once more. It’s lunch time, Kate and you just having sat down with your plates of food after she’d explained how they were set out each meal time. The dining room is filling up, all of the other camp members filing in to take their place at differing tables. It’s as your inspecting the meal in front of you that a very particular member sets herself down in front you.

“Hey, newbie.”

Your head raises from the table as you hear the voice, looking up to meet the same pair of green eyes that you recalled from earlier. The brunette stares back at you, a small smile playing at her lips as she watches your face. “Uh…hi?”

You don’t get to say much more before Kate is speaking up, leaning over the table with a scowl. “Get lost, Maximoff. We don’t want you to sit with us.”

The brunnete turns to look at the other girl, a frown of her own appearing between two perfect brows. “Loosen up, Bishop. I just wanted to say hello to our newest addition.” As she finishes, her eyes trail back to you, the scowl dropping away to that same smirking expression. For a moment it seems as if she looks you up and down, scanning over your uniform before studying your face again. “I’m Wanda,” she says eventually, voice light. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You smile back a little awkwardly, torn between your polite nature and the instructions you had received to avoid this exact girl sat opposite you. “Y/N,” you reply, letting your manners overtake the situation.

“Just go away, Wanda,” Kate butts in suddenly, her voice raised. “I’m her mentor, not you.”

The brunette screws up her face as she turns to the raven-haired girl, scoffing under her breath. “God Kate, you’re so fucking uptight.” She sighs loudly as she pushes herself up from the table. As she does, you notice how her skirt is still rolled at the waist. But you don’t settle on it too long, distracted as she begins to speak again. “I’ll see you around, Y/N,” Wanda says, her voice playful once more. Her eyes train on you for just a moment as she backs away from the table, another girl soon taking her place.

“Just ignore her,” Kate grumbles over to you. She begins to list a string of complaints about the girl but doesn’t get far, soon interrupted by Reverend Steve calling for grace at the front of the room. You bow your head as he begins to pray, clasping your hands under your chin just as you did with every meal you ate at home. A chorus of ‘amens’ rings out as the prayer finishes, all heads lifting once more to begin eating their lunch. As you lift yours, your gaze briefly flashes across the room, catching across the way, a pair of green eyes staring back at you. Wanda sits smirking, but you don’t see much else, quickly finding yourself flustered and looking away, turning your concentration instead to the plate of food sat in front of you.

———

Natasha’s office is very nice. That’s your first thought when you enter through the door, guided by her hand on the base of your spine. There are a few wide windows on one wall, white shutters open to give a view of the lake just down a grassy hill. Her desk sits in one corner, a plush vibrant chair close by, then across the way, a small couch. There are shelves littered with both plants and framed pictures, most depicting some sort of bible verse.

You sit yourself down on the sofa while Natasha settles in her chair beside her desk, pulling out a notebook as she turns to face you. There’s an exchange of pleasantries as she explains exactly how these private sessions will go and how anything you say is entirely confidential. You nod, sitting rather folded in on yourself, uncertainty still coursing through your body.

“So Y/N,” Natasha says eventually, crossing her legs over the other. “To start off, why don’t you tell me a little bit about the first time you experienced homosexual tendencies.”

The request is one that leaves you stumbling a little. “Oh I- well…” You swallow, landing on the same response you’d had every time your parents had suggested the idea. “I’m not actually gay. Everyone just thinks that I am.”

Natasha’s face changes, taking on a soft but curious expression. “And why do you say that?”

“Well I’m not,” you reply. “I don’t- I don’t like girls. I have a boyfriend.”

That fact alone seemed enough to you for this whole endeavour to be needless. You didn’t like girls, couldn’t like them. You and your boyfriend had been going strong for over two years. He was handsome, funny, and you were sure you loved him. Even if you did feel slightly disgusted every time his lips touched yours…

“Listen Y/N,” Natasha says, her voice calm. “I know this whole experience can seem a little daunting but we’re here to help you, okay?” She smiles softly, the intention of her words feeling truthful. “But the first step of your journey needs to be your admittance to your problem.”

It isn’t that you don’t feel comfortable telling Natasha about your problem, in fact you actually feel a strange warmth in your stomach whenever she talks to you, but in your mind, there was no problem to begin with. “I’m not gay.”

Natasha sighs at your answer. She adjusts herself in her seat, her soft gaze looking back at you. “Think about it like this; homosexuality is like a disease. These thoughts weave their way into your mind, changing your behaviour.” The redhead raises a set of perfect brows. “But we can’t begin to heal if we don’t have a proper diagnosis. Can’t administer the right treatment if we can’t admit we’re ill, right?”

Her analogy isn’t lost on you, somewhat similar to something you’d heard your pastor say back at your home church. “Yeah…I guess that makes sense.”

“Now what you’re experiencing can be fixed,” Natasha continues. “I’ve seen it fixed many times before. You can heal Y/N, break away from this and find the light of our good lord.” With his name, Natasha glances up to the cross hanging on the wall beside you. Your eyes follow too. “Don’t you want that?”

You turn back to the woman, your voice sounding small. “Of course I do.”

Natasha smiles. “That’s good.” She rearranges herself again, adjusting to hold her notebook and pen better. “Now, could you maybe tell me first time you can remember ever having thoughts about other women?”

“I don’t-I haven’t,” you stumble. “I don’t think about them like that.”

Like that. It was a phrase you’d repeated like a mantra in your head. You didn’t want a girlfriend, you didn’t want a girl to kiss you. You thought about girls the same way everyone else did. Sure, sometimes your eyes would fall to their ass when they walked to the front of class, or perhaps you got a bit hot and bothered in the changing rooms before gym, maybe even your favourite movie scene was the one where all the girls would go to the beach and play in the water. But that was what everyone else thought too…right?

“Alright,” Natasha says, sighing again. “I can see you’re really struggling with this, but that’s okay. I’m here to help you.” She smiles. “How about we take a little look at your family history, hm? See if that can get things kickstarted for us?”

You spend the rest of your session talking about your family. Natasha asks about extended members, questioning about any problems there may be down your blood line. But as far as you know, it all comes up clean, your entire family the same good Christian folks you’ve always known them to be.

Finding nothing of interest, Natasha moves on to talk about your childhood. She asks about your time at school, how long you’d attended church, what sort of friends you had. It’s all scribbled down on the notebook in her hand as you list off answers, all the perfect idiom of what a good Christian girl should be.

By the end of your session, you’ve spoke about almost everything that’s led you up to where you are now. Natasha asks again about your feelings towards women, trying to compare the reasons your parents sent you here to real acts of homosexuality. But all in all, it’s no use. At the end of the hour, you’re still in denial, refusing any accusation of your alleged problem. Thankfully, Natasha doesn’t seem angry, still smiling softly as you leave her office. She send you away with an assignment to think about what could be your ‘root’, what she terms the initial source of your unholy thoughts, determined once you figure this out, it will begin your journey to sanctuary.

———

The next few days pass by without much excitement. You begin to settle into your lessons, listening as a few ex-members of the program give speeches of their experiences, or as Steve talks about how God can help give meaning to your life. There are group therapy sessions you attend, though mostly sit quietly through, but listen while others talk about their own experiences and thoughts. It’s in them you notice a certain person who seems to stare at you from across the room. You try to avoid making eye contact but it seems each time you glance over, Wanda’s stare is trained on you.

Following what Natasha had said when you first arrived, you tried to stick to Kate’s side as much as possible, avoiding the other girl who seemed to look at you more often than not. When you weren’t in lessons you could avoid her, instead hanging around with Kate and her friends in the recreational spaces, sometimes watching one of the approved DVDs that lay beneath the TV. At meals, your group sits together, always saying your prayers before eating your food. But it seems even there you can’t escape the strange brunette, always catching her stare from across the room. It’s only in bible study, on the day that marks a week since your arrival, that you actually get to speak to her again.

Kate was sick today. She’d caught a head cold, presumably from her parents who came to visit her at the weekend. You had also had a visit, your mother and father asking every possible question about your stay and how you were finding camp. The visit had went well, but now a few days later you were left with no mentor to guide you throughout your day. It isn’t too much of a worry in your mind though, the layout and scheduling of the camp already becoming a familiar routine to your body. But what you aren’t used to, is a certain strange individual sitting in the seat where your mentor usually sat.

You don’t notice it is Wanda at first. Feeling the body slide against yours on the bench, your first thought is perhaps that Kate has made a miraculous recovery. But when you turn to face the individual and are met with piercing green eyes, you are certainly even more surprised. “Um,” you fumble, looking back at the brunette as you try to stumble for words. “That’s Kate’s seat.”

Wanda raises a brow, her head spinning to look around the room before it returns to you. “I don’t see her.” She smirks. “Besides, no seating arrangements, right?”

Technically she is correct. There is nothing actually stopping her from sitting beside you apart from your slight aversion to interacting with her. You slide your body away a few inches to the right, shifting away from the touch Wanda had initiated as she sat down a little to close. The brunette seems to notice, glancing down at the gap now settled between you, but she doesn’t say anything about it, instead just looking up at you as she flashes a set of white teeth. “So Y/N,” she begins, rolling your name easily over her tongue. “Where are you from?”

“Not far,” you reply, still inclined to politeness even with your anxiety around the interaction. You elaborate further, telling her the name of your town just two hours north of the camp.

Wanda hums at your response then crosses her legs on the bench. You try not to notice the way her rolled skirt flashes a pair of smooth pale legs. “I’m from down south,” she says. “Further than you, though. About six hours. My parents only come to visit about once a month.”

You met her eye as you try to think of a response, but before you can, you’re being interrupted. Reverend Steve calls out at the front of the class, silencing everyone so that he can begin calling the register. As names echo out across the room, you and Wanda’s conversation dies, but the soft warmth emanating from her body close to yours, does not leave for the rest of the lesson.

Having quit bible study over three years ago, you were a little worried you wouldn’t be able to keep up, but as Kate had told you last week, some of these kids had never even been to church, so the pace was definitely slow enough for you to follow along. The story Steve told today was one you knew rather well actually, one of the most prominent ones you could recall from your early teens. Still, you pay the upmost attention throughout the entire time he talks, eyes trained on his figure at the front of the classroom. What makes that a little difficult however, is the girl sat right beside you.

Wanda is easily distracted you notice quickly, constantly fidgeting with the pen in her hand - your pen actually, borrowed by the brunette when she claimed she had forgotten her own. You sit a little in shock as she casually graffitis the open bible sat upon the desk in front of her, mindlessly drawing squiggles and random shapes into the margin. You try your best to ignore her antics but it’s a little hard when she accidentally tosses her pen across the desk, following a failed attempt to spin it around her fingers. It lands over on your side, just to the right of your own bible. You go to reach for it to hand back to her but it seems she’s already moving before you can even get the chance.

Her body lifts slightly from the bench, stretching out across the table with one arm for her lost pen. As she does, her chest is brought closer to your face. Your eyes fall on the black cross hanging around her neck, then suddenly dip lower, catching the area of her shirt where her buttons are undone further than they should be. There’s the briefest of moments where your eyes linger there, passing over the ever so slightly visible cleavage that swells on her chest, but it’s less than seconds later you’re darting away. Wanda eventually picks her pen back up, after what feels like an eternity, and pulls back in her chair. You glance momentarily over at her, then quickly return to the bible open in front of you, trying your best to follow along with the passage Steve reads aloud while ignoring the strange sensation that has settled in your lower stomach.

———

Camp isn’t quite the way you imagined it to be. Before you arrived, you thought it would be entirely awful, like a prison only with more…God. But for most of your experience, it just feels like you’re back in school. Although, now your lessons about maths or science are replaced by those about God and the way into his heart. Just over two weeks in, you’ve picked up the swing of things quite nicely, falling into an easy routine as you move through the services and lessons with ease. The one thing you just can’t quite seem to grasp is the understanding of why you’re here in the first place.

You’ve had three private sessions now with Natasha, each of them as feeble at finding a change as the last. You’re still not ready to admit your problem, as Natasha puts it, reluctant to find the issue within yourself. But as you’ve said since before you even came, it’s a simple fact you aren’t gay. Natasha seems determined in her ways to make you see something different.

She’s handed you a book, walking out from your last session. The title reads, ‘My Sexuality and Me: Finding the Root of Homosexual Tendencies’. You’re tasked with reading it before your next session in hopes it might finally help you understand your own thoughts. For now, however, it has to wait. Leaving your session, you go up to the dorm to drop it by your bed, taking just a moment before you have to head to your next organised activity.

The camp helps run on a set of scheduled chores that the members have to carry out. It’s on a rota, something Kate had shown you on your very first day, and changes each week. There’s everything from weed picking to cleaning dishes, all work that helps to keep the camp in shape for everyone staying there. Reverend Steve mentioned something about the work ethic helping everyone be grateful for what the lord had given them.

You have to go down to check the rota, forgetting what was scheduled for you this week. Most of the others are already dotted around the camp doing their chores, apparently your one-on-one session running over slightly and causing you to be a little late. You make your way down the stairs to the main room where the rota is located, pinned into a notice board on the wall. But as you turn the corner at the bottom of the stairs, you notice that you are in fact, not alone.

Wanda turns almost immediately when you round the corner. She’s stood up against the notice board, back resting upon the wall with one foot lifted against it. A smile appears on her face as you come into view, her teeth shining around the piece of pink bubblegum she chews. “Hey, princess.”

You try not to scoff at the name - an endearment the brunette had coined after seeing you one night writing in your diary about your boyfriend, claiming you were like a locked away princess longing for her prince to come save her. You’d rolled your eyes at her comment at the time, and had to deal with its return each time you’d bumped into her in the past week. Now, you try to ignore it as you walk past her and stare up at the notice board trying to find the chore schedule. However, Wanda is speaking again before you even get the chance to locate it.

“Looks like it’s you and me this week.” You glance over at her, watching as a pink bubble forms at her lips. You want to ignore her teasing, looking back to the board to locate where you would be stationed, but when your eyes fall upon the schedule, you realise she is right. Written on the notice board, right below the date of the beginning of the week is your and Wanda’s name, then below it; house duty.

You turn back to look at her, a pair of green eyes glinting your way. For a moment you think there’s some kind of mistake. After all, you had always been with Kate before. But then, not far away from yours is indeed Kate’s name written, not on house duty, but on pantry organisation.

Wanda smirks as she rolls the gum in her mouth, eyes fixated on you as she blows another bubble. When it pops, she finally speaks again. “You’ve never done house duty, have you?”

She’s right. You’re in unfamiliar territory and you don’t have your usual mentor to help guide you. “No,” you reply simply, gently shaking your head.

Wanda breathes out a laugh, throwing her head back slightly as she drops her leg from the wall. “Come on, princess,” she says teasingly, walking to close the gap between you. “I’ll guide you.”

Her hand is reaching for yours before you can protest against it. Soft skin slips into yours, gripping hold and quickly dragging you down the corridor. You stumble slightly, surprised by the whole encounter but Wanda doesn’t seemed fazed. She simply pulls you along the hall like a lost puppy. When your brain restarts from the initial shock, you look down at the way your fingers are grasped between hers. It’s a simple interaction at its core, an innocuous hand hold as she shows you the way to go. You’d done the same thing with your own friends back home many of times, but something about this one feels a little different. Something about the way her soft skin is warm against yours creates an odd fuzz in your head.

“Here we are,” Wanda announces, suddenly dropping your hand. You try not to think about the way it now feels cold as you watch her reach for a door handle. It opens to a cupboard, full of what looks like cleaning supplies. “We basically just dust everything,” the brunette continues, turning back to look at you. “Just dust and vacuum the floors in every room in the house. Oh- but not the bathroom, someone else will be doing those.”

You find yourself nodding, the task seeming simple enough. You’d dusted plenty of times at home, this couldn’t be any different.

Wanda lets out another laugh, seemingly at your immediate obedience to follow through with your task. “Alright, princess,” she says, cracking her gum. She reaches in to the cupboard, picking up a cloth and a bottle of disinfect spray. “I’ll do upstairs, you do downstairs?”

There isn’t much room for objection even if you had any, Wanda already beginning to walk away with the cloth thrown over one of her shoulders. You reach down to grab similar materials, standing back up to watch her figure moving down the corridor. “Stop calling me that!” You call out, but the girl is gone before your sentence is even finished, the protest seemingly falling on deaf ears. A sigh escapes your lips as you close the cupboard door, determined to just ignore the other girl while you begin your designated chore.

You start with the class rooms, wiping each desk with the spray and then dusting the other surrounding surfaces. You quickly find nothing was too dirty, the uphold from the other members ensuring the work wasn’t too difficult. You move next to the dining hall, then the recreational spaces, your cloth picking up any small specks of dust that have come to rest on the furniture and surfaces. When you’ve wiped down each room, you return to the cupboard for the vacuum you’d spied earlier. It’s older than the one you have at home but easy enough to work, quickly making light work of vacuuming the entire bottom floor.

It’s probably half an hour later when you finish, at least that’s the guess you make without a watch. You tidy away the cleaning supplies back into the cupboard before doing a quick inspection of everything to make sure you haven’t missed anything. Satisfied everything is clean, you turn your attention to your missing task partner. You haven’t seen Wanda once, barely even heard her moving upstairs. So, devoid of what else to do, you decide to head up to check if she needed any help.

You check a few rooms before you find her, the closest spaces absent of her presence. It’s only when you open the door to the girls dormitory that you finally see her. Except, she’s not cleaning like you expected her to be, in fact the cloth is entirely disregarded on the bedside table. Instead, Wanda sits with her back against the headrest of her bed, legs crossed over the top of her floral sheets and a magazine sat across her lap.

The door almost slams behind you as you catch eye of her, shock and repel taking you over. “You’re supposed to be cleaning!”

Wanda’s eyes pick up as she hears you yell, meeting your stare across the room. A smirk appears on her face, her expression seeming very amused by your sudden entrance. “Believe me, what I’m doing is much more enjoyable.”

You scowl back, annoyed by the fact you’d just spent the last half hour cleaning the house while she had been sitting up here doing nothing for who knows how long. If you were more argumentative, you would think of something to say in retaliation, some quick quip to get back at her for being lazy. But you’d never been very good at arguing, never very good at holding your temper. So instead you simply hold your tongue as you walk further in the room, watching Wanda as she stared back at you. Suddenly, your eyes fall to the paper in her hand, reminded of how similar this situation felt to the first time you’d met her. Like then, the same curiosity comes over you as to what she might be looking at, particularly how it could be classified as contraband. With that in mind, the next words you utter are not with anger anymore, but instead interest. “What are you reading?”

“Oh this?” Wanda replies, closing the magazine and holding it up briefly. She smirks your way, the grin wide against her cheeks. “Playboy.”

The word was unfamiliar to your mind. “What?”

Wanda’s brow raise. “Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of a playboy magazine.”

You notice in that moment she’d lost her gum from earlier. In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if she’d stuck it under a piece of furniture somewhere. But still trying to focus on the conversation at hand, you simply shake your head in response.

Wanda looks surprised, her brows raising even further. You think she’s going to jest you further, make fun of you for not recognising the name of her treasured magazine, but instead she simply extends it out. “Look.”

You move slowly, slightly hesitant to approach. You know Natasha had confiscated something like this from Wanda before and you didn’t presume this new magazine was much different from that previously banned material. Still, your curiosity seems to be getting the better of you because you slowly sit down on Wanda’s bed, your legs hanging off the side whilst the brunette crosses hers. Against the covers of the bed, Wanda slides the magazine between the two of you, opening it to a random page. What is plastered over it causes your eyebrows to raise completely in shock.

Women. But not just any pictures of women. The magazine was covered in dozens of images of women in differing stages of nudity. Immediately when you saw it, you felt the need to pull your eyes away, knowing that these kind of images were most definitely not the kind you should be looking at. But at the same time, it was like you couldn’t stop. There are about four models across the two pages scattered with different images, sometimes wearing sets of black lacy lingerie, sometimes wearing nothing at all. Theres a strange sensation bubbling in your gut, an odd warmth spreading through your mind as you look down at the pictures. The pure immorality of it all is enough for you to shake your head viscously.

“This is-we’re not-you shouldn’t have that.” You stutter, the images imprinted in your brain making it harder to focus and find the right words. You’ve never seen anything like that before, never looked at a woman’s body so out in the open. Now you could see why Natasha had quickly confiscated Wanda’s magazine and hidden it away from your view. “How do you even have this?”

The brunette seems utterly unfazed by the material in front of you. More so, her face looks amused at your alarmed reaction. “I steal them out of my brother’s backpack when he comes to visit,” she replies casually, as if this is something she’s been doing for months. “He’s pretty oblivious so he never notices, always thinks he lost them. Besides, even if he did know, he couldn’t tell my parents. He’s not allowed them either.”

While Wanda explains, you have to fight against yourself to hold eye contact. In your peripheral, you can still see the open page of nude women, restraining yourself from your body’s seemingly natural instinct to look down. “This isn’t right,” you reply, shaking your head. “We shouldn’t be looking at that.”

Wanda scoffs, looking displeased at your disapproval. She reaches out for the magazine, pulling it back into her own lap as she glances down at the images. Then, she’s looking back up at you, face inquisitive. “You’ve really never seen one before?”

You’re not sure exactly where she thinks you were going to find such a thing, but you’re certain you’ve never seen anything of the sort before. “No,” you reply sternly, shaking your head once more.

Wanda laughs to herself, rolling her eyes. “You call yourself a lesbian and you don’t even know what a playboy is.”

Her words cause a deep frown to appear on your brow, your voice raising to almost a shout. “I’m not a lesbian.”

A perfect brow raises in your direction as Wanda looks at you. Her expression seems particularly amused. “No? How’d you end up here then?”

The question hits you hard, the same thing you’d been pondering to yourself over the last few weeks of your stay. “I’m not gay,” you reply harshly. “Everyone just thinks that I am.”

“And why do you think they think that?”

Wanda’s eyes meet your own as she speaks, the question another one familiar to your own mind. “I don’t know,” you shrug. “Stupid reasons.” You think back to the conversation you’d had with your parents, the first time any of this had even cropped up into your mind. “A few posters I had up in my room, a couple songs on my playlist. Oh, and I told my boyfriend I don’t like kissing him. Which is totally stupid. I’m pretty sure he’s just really bad at it.”

A chuckle emanates from Wanda’s throat. You’re not quite sure why, watching as she leans in closer to you. When she speaks again, her face is barely inches from your own. “Oh honey, you don’t like kissing him because you like kissing girls.”

“What?” you exclaim, taken aback by her accusation. That couldn’t possibly be right. “No! I don’t! I told you, I’m not a lesbian.”

Wanda smirks, her eyes trained on yours. “Okay, maybe not a lesbian but I bet you’ve thought about a girl while he’s kissing you.”

The idea was entirely preposterous. “No!” you yelled back. “I haven’t!”

But your anger is only met with amusement on Wanda’s side, her smirk only deepening as she leans back on the bed. “You’re cute when you lie.”

The words have you recoilling, the inclination behind them picked up on yet rejected by your brain. And yet, you could feel a warmth spreading to your cheeks, embarrassment flushing in.

“Have you ever kissed a girl?”

You snap on to Wanda as her question rings out, watching as she casually slides her magazine back behind her bedside table. “No,” you reply firmly. “Of course not.”

“Then how do you know you don’t like it?” The brunette sits up again, leaning in closer to you. Her eyes meet your own, a strange shadow seemingly passing over them. She watches you for a moment, in almost unreadable expression moving across her face. “Surely theres only one way to find out.”

Wanda’s voice is low, barely above a whisper. You find you’re too busy watching her lips to notice her leaning in even closer, face barely centimetres from your own. Suddenly, you pull back. “What are you doing?”

Wanda doesn’t miss a beat, continuing to lean in even as you pull away. One of her hands comes to rest on your thigh, fingers grazing the material of your pleated skirt. “It’s okay,” she says lowly. “I’m just trying to help you.”

Her advance doesn’t stop, face moving closer and close towards yours. It’s only when she’s almost touching you, you realise she’s trying to kiss you. “No,” you say quickly, pushing her back by the shoulders. “We can’t do that. It’s not right.”

Wanda sighs, relaxing her posture a little. She shifts in the bed, eyes still trained on you. For a moment she simply looks over your face before that smirk appears once more. “Maybe…” she says, angling her head. “But isn’t that the whole reason we’re here?” The question slightly throws you for a loop, your confusion allowing Wanda to move closer to you once more. “Don’t do you want to be a good girl and finish the program?”

The way her breath fans across your face sends an odd shiver down your neck, goosebumps appearing on your arms. Her choice of words seems to form an odd feeling in your stomach, but you try your best to brush it off, nodding your head in response to the question. You did want to finish the program. You wanted to be able to go back home to your family.

Wanda smiles at your answer, her head angling to the side as her voice takes a caring tone. “Well we both know what the first step is…You have to admit to yourself you like girls.” She leans in closer, her eyes briefly flashing down to your lips. “You can’t heal if you don’t admit you have a problem.”

Her words mirror those of Natasha’s, the same thing she’d been trying to get through to you for weeks. But you can’t help but fight the part of your brain that recalls everything you’ve been taught about attraction. “This isn’t right,” you say quietly. “You have to stop.” And yet you find yourself making no move to pull away from the girl whose face sits mere inches from your own.

“As I said, I’m just trying to help you.” Wanda’s voice is calm, understanding. “Once you realise you like girls, you can move on with the rest of the program.” Then the brunette shrugs a shoulder. “Or hey, you maybe hate it and realise you actually are straight.”

It makes some sense in your mind but you’re still hesitant, knowing that what Wanda was even suggesting was against everything you wanted to believe in. “I don’t think that we should-“

“Just don’t think.” Wanda cuts you off before you can finish, and before you can even process what’s happening, she closes the final gap between you. Her lips meet yours, soft and warm against your skin. It’s gentle but rough at the same time, your eyes fluttering closed. Then immediately, as the warmth leaves, they snap back open.

Wanda’s staring back at you, face smiling. “How’d that feel?” You notice that her eyes look a little blown out, pupils wide against the sea of green. “Feels good right?”

Suddenly you realise what’s just happened, every part of your upbringing screaming inside your head. “What? No!” you reply, flustering. “No, it didn’t feel good. It felt wrong.”

But some part of you creeps up in the back of your mind, a part you recognised and yet wanted to snuff out more than anything, a part that knew you were lying.

And apparently, Wanda can see right through to that part too. “I can see it on your face, honey,” she says, voice now teasing. Her eyes trace over your features and you wonder what exactly gave it away. There isn’t much time to think however, as before you know it, Wanda’s leaning in again. Her lips meet yours, a hand sliding to your thigh once more.

“Stop,” you reply, pulling away. “This isn’t right. We’re not supposed to-“

Wanda cuts you off again. “Don’t think about what we’re supposed to do. Think about what feels right.”

You notice again the wildness of her pupils, only for a moment, before she leans in again. Your eyes close on impact, her lips crashing into yours in another kiss. Only this time you instinctively lean into it, pursing your lips against hers. Wanda pushes back, her mouth opening just slightly to take in your lips and you find yourself leaning in. There’s a reminiscent taste of bubblegum, sweet on your tongue as her saliva begins to mix with your own. The hand on your thigh tightens, another placed on to the side of your face. For a second you don’t think about anything other than just how good this moment feels.

It’s seconds later Wanda pulls away, her touch lingering but her lips missing. You find your eyes opening, gazing back at the smirking brunette staring back at you. “It feels pretty good doesn’t it?”

You’re lost for words, sure of your answer to her question but so reluctant to admit it. Wanda smiles back at you, her grip on your leg slowly raising up, ever so slightly bunching the fabric of your skirt. Before you can formulate a response, she’s moving in towards you. Her face disappears into the crook of your neck, her warm breath fanning out across your skin before her lips attach. Without thinking, your head falls back, only giving the brunette more access to nip at the skin of your neck. Your eyes feel heavy, an odd sensation pooling deep in your body. “I can make you feel so good…”

The words reverberate across your skin, sending shivers down your neck and across your chest. A small whine exits your throat, unintended by any part of you but seemingly drawn out by the gentle touches of both Wanda’s lips and her fingers dancing across your skin. “Wanda…”

The brunette slowly pulls back, her face rising to meet with yours. Theres a look in her eye you can’t identify. “You’re already a sinner now, right?” she says, voice husky. “No harm in twisting the knife.”

There’s a moment where you want to turn away, to listen to the rational part of your brain that tells you this is all wrong. But right now there’s only one thing you can truly think of; just how good it felt with Wanda’s lips against your own.

Your hands grab at the brunettes shoulders as you pull her in, the pair of you colliding before you even recognise what you’re doing. The kiss comes fast, clashing together in your desperation for the girl to stop talking and just to feel her against you again. Wanda smirks against your lips, humming an amused noise before she’s all over you.

Her hands find purchase in your hair, entangling in the strands at the nape of your neck as she pulls you in closer to her body. Her kiss becomes fiercer, control quickly being regained as she presses her lips into yours. A small hum of your own escapes as she presses her tongue into your mouth, quickly taking over as you simply let her in without protest. And in that moment a thought crashes over your mind; gay or not, your boyfriend was definitely bad at kissing. Furthermore, Wanda was very, very good.

Your hands grips slightly at her shoulders as the brunette domineers the kiss, her lips almost possessive against your own as her hand clutches as your cheek, manipulating your position to give her full control. You feel her other hand begin to drift further up your legs, pushing your skirt up to your hips before climbing even higher. Delicate touches grace over your stomach, then softly against your chest. You release a small whine as Wanda nips at your lip with her teeth, at the same time, reaching to unbutton the top clasp of your shirt. Her fingers work faster than your mind can even process, too distracted by the touch of her lips to notice her quick work of opening your entire shirt. It’s only when she reaches to touch your chest, a gasp of realisation releases from your throat.

Wanda however, continues without missing a beat. As you gasp, she lets her lips leave your own, reappearing quickly on the side of your neck. Her hand tightens around the skin beneath it on your chest, fingers squeezing around your bra and grabbing hold of your breast beneath it. Her soft kisses continue to move lower as you whine softly, her touch against your chest sending shivers down your body.

Then, her mouth turns more aggressive, resting just at the curve of your breast she begins to suck on the flesh harder, nipping with her teeth before smoothing it over with her tongue. You whine softly, the new sensation novel to your body but so intrinsically intuned. For the first time your eyes open, looking down to where the brunette resides again your chest. You notice the way your necklace rests between the wisps of her hair, a silver cross that you’d worn every day for years. The image is enough to remind you of how wrong this is, how under no circumstances you should be letting a girl kiss you or touch your body like this. But before you can fully wrap your mind around the forbidden nature of the act, a new sensation is stripping a small gasp from your chest. Wanda’s fingers move back to your thighs, slipping up the exposed skin before coming to rest on your underwear underneath.

“Wanda…” you breathe heavily, worked up by her touch and yet knowing how wrong it all was. You shouldn’t be doing this, any of it, especially what Wanda was insinuating as she slipped her hand beneath your skirt.

“Shh, it’s okay.” The brunette replies with ease, her voice low and sensual. Her eyes raise back up to your face, meeting your gaze with a blown out expression. “Let me make you feel good, Y/N.”

And with that, her mouth is on yours again. Her kiss is enough to distract you from forming a response, eyes closing as the sweet taste of bubblegum coats your tongue once more. Then you feel her fingers again, pressing lightly against the material of your underwear, tracing the lines of your folds underneath. Small noises travel from your mouth to hers, receptive to her touch, but it’s when she presses her thumb to your clothed clit, a moan finally slips out.

The situation is entirely new to you, never having been touched by anyone this way before. You and your boyfriend had always said you’d wait till marriage, just like you knew you should. But here with Wanda, her lips against yours and her fingers tracing your most delicate areas, the endorphins flowing through your brain are enough to say to hell with it all.

You push harder into the kiss, grasping hold of Wanda’s shoulders as you try to gain the upper hand. But the brunette is much more experienced than you and doesn’t let up easily. Her hands move to your own shoulders and quickly begin to push the open shirt from them. Her lips remain on yours, strong and fierce, until the shirt has been slipped from your body. Then Wanda pulls away, her eyes drifting down over you for just a moment before she’s grabbing at you again. She spins you around, pulling you fully on to the bed as her hands press your shoulders down into the mattress. In a swift movement, she’s kicking off her shoes to the floor, then pulling yours off too. She comes to settle on top of you, knees placed either side of your legs as she looks down. Her hands are quick as she unbuttons her own shirt, tossing it to the side. Then, she’s moving to unclip her bra.

You feel your eyes widen slightly as Wanda’s bare chest is revealed to you. Before the magazine she’d shown you minutes before, it’s the first time you’ve looked at another woman so nude. And in that moment, despite what your brain is screaming out to you, you can’t help but think about how good she looks.

Wanda seems to notice your staring, her face pulling an entirely amused expression as she looks down at you. “I don’t see why you deprive yourself of this, Y/N,” she says, beginning to lean in. Her lips meet your neck, sucking gently as you feel her fingers slip behind your shoulder blades, seeking the clasp of your bra. “Can something truly be so wrong if it brings you so much pleasure?”

You try to reply to her question, brain racking all of the answers you know you should be saying. But then her lips are sucking at your neck and you’re arching into her touch, once again taken over entirely by the flush of pleasure underneath her control. Theres a release against your chest as Wanda unclips your bra, tossing it easily to the side along with her own. “So gorgeous,” the brunette murmurs, one hand coming to grab at your chest. Then her lips are on you again, kissing at the skin around your nipple. When she pulls it into her mouth, teeth grazing over the bud, a needy whine erupts in your throat. Wanda smirks against you, breathing out a laugh. “So sensitive.”

Her mouth continues to work around the skin of your chest, before you notice her fingers crawling over your stomach. They take hold of your skirt, pressing it up to bunch at your waist. Then Wanda is moving away, fingers quickly hooking themselves under the sides of your underwear as she begins to slide them down.

For a sudden moment, you’re acutely aware of what’s going on, of how you are quite literally in a dorm at a camp where this type of behaviour was attempted to be corrected. Not to mention the rule of any sort of fraternisation being entirely banned. “Wait,” you say, looking down at the brunette between your legs, suddenly afraid of what you were about to do. “I don’t think-“

“I told you to stop thinking,” Wanda replies, eyes snapping to yours. She continues to pull your underwear down, throwing them to the floor once they’ve passed your ankles. Before you can say anything more, her lips drown you in a kiss. The sweetness of it all is enough to wipe any of the doubt from your mind, so when Wanda’s hands dip between your legs, you don’t hesitate to let her. Deft fingers run between your folds, teasing you slightly as they brush gently across your clit. You sigh breathily between the breaks of your kiss, Wanda’s touch like electric to your skin.

“God, you’re so wet, Y/N,” the brunette whispers, pulling her face away to smirk down at you. “Is this all for me?”

She’s teasing you, making you think about how hesitant you’d been to this whole idea, and then about how receptive you were under her touch. But you don’t want to think about any of that, don’t want to remind yourself of how wrong this all was. All you want is for her to keep going. “Wanda…” you whine, squirming under her as her fingers teased your entrance. “Please.”

You don’t even truly know what you’re asking for her to do, all you know is you need her. Thankfully, the brunette is proficient in picking up your body’s signals. “Shh, it’s okay,” she whispers, breath fanning across your face. “I know what you need, princess. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”

It’s only seconds later you feel her middle finger plunge into you. You let out a loud gasp at the contact, feeling her finger begin to move inside of you like nobody’s had before. Her name drips off your tongue, laced with pleasure, as her head moves back to your chest, tongue playing with your hardened nipple. Theres a mark resting there, red and throbbing below the skin of your cross. In the heat of the moment, you hands reach out to grasp the back of her head, intertwining with her hair as you feel her add another finger inside you.

The pleasure rolls of you in waves, Wanda’s touch like a skilled professional highly attuned to draw sweet subtle moans from your mouth. Her thumb circles your clit as she continues to pump her fingers inside of you, curling them to reach that spot that sends shivers up your spine.

“Fuck, Wanda,” you murmur, nails lightly scratching at her bare back.

The brunette chuckles, raising her head from your chest. “Now that’s not a very holy word, is it Y/N?” She smirks, and for a moment her touch is gone. You whine, chasing her fingers as they leave your needy core. Theres a second she lifts her weight and you see her reaching to remove her own underwear, then she’s back on you, this time sitting against just on of your thighs. You can feel her wetness against your skin, a soft moan escaping as she makes contact. “I wanna cum with you, okay?” she says, eyes meeting yours. You nod eagerly but your reply is swallowed up by a low cry as her fingers suddenly sink back into you.

Her speed picks up as she begins to curl inside you once again, a soft stream of curses leaving your lips at the unexplainable pleasure of her touch. You can feel Wanda begin to grind on to your thigh as she works, soft gasps escaping from her lips each time her clit brushes beautifully against your skin. She showers your praises as you whimper noises of your own, breaths heavy and moans unrestrained as she brings you closer and closer to that edge.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, princess,” Wanda husks over you. “Such a pretty girl for me.”

Her words only add to the building feeling in your lower stomach, that familiar coil building from the times you’d reached down to pleasure yourself after your parents had went to bed - not that you would tell anyone that.

“Please, Wanda,” you whimper, back arching into her. “I’m close-please…”

One hand continues to pump inside you, paced perfectly as her curled fingers reached that spot with each thrust. The other come up to play with a perked nipple, the bud rolling though Wanda’s fingers as helpless whines spill from your mouth. “Just a minute, princess,” Wanda replies, her breathing heavy. “I’m almost there.”

Surprisingly, her pace doesn’t falter as she too climbs closer to her orgasm. Her moans grow louder, her cunt grinding harder against your thigh as she continues to swirl your clit at the perfect speed. It’s when you finally tense the muscles in your leg, that she finally falls apart.

You feel her soak your thigh, gasping desperately as she cums. You watch mesmerised as her face screws up, her jaw hanging loose as she rides out her orgasm on your leg, drunk on pleasure. It only adds to the bundling arousal pooling in your lower stomach.

“Cum, pretty girl” Wanda whispers, still coming down from her high. “Cum for me.”

And you do. With her fingers curling just right inside you, you finally tip over the edge. Your orgasm comes hard, crashing over you in a tidal wave as Wanda slowly circles your clit, guiding you through it. A guttural moan elicits from your throat, Wanda’s name lacing your tongue. That pleasant buzz takes over your mind as you feel her fingers slow, riding out your high, drunk on her touch. You’re on the brink of overstimulation when she finally removes her hand entirely. Eventually your eyelids flutter open, heavy from exhaustion, and you spy the brunette with her fingers deep isnide her mouth, her tongue lapping up every last bit of your arousal.

“So sweet,” she murmurs above you, both of your minds still fuzzy from the resounding pleasure. Eventually, the brunette moves herself away from your thigh, whining slightly as her core is exposed to the cool air. Her body flops down next to yours, shoulders touching as you lay cramped in the single cot. Your heavy breaths are the only sound for a long while, loud in the silence of the dormitory. Then finally, when you’ve managed to right your body again, your face turns to look at the girl beside you. Wanda is already staring back, green eyes wide as a huge smirk settles across her lips. She looks you up and down, her grin only widening as she husks, “You still wanna believe you’re not into girls?”.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff fic #marvel

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xxxdreamscapexxx · 9 months

Text

Sweet trouble

Pairing: Step!Mother Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word count: 12.7k

Summary: Being left home alone is the perfect time to catch up on all your secret activities. What you don't expect is that your Step Mother has secrets of her own, or that you'll stumble on them accidentally. What will happen when she finds out you've been going through her things?

Warning: NSFW, 18+, lesbian relationship, Stepcest?, masturbation, edging, teasing, oral, fingering, finger sucking, Mommy!Kink, top!Wanda, Bottom!Reader

Masterlist with all my works.

When you woke up this morning, you never, in your wildest dreams imagined that one of your most secret, most shameful desires will come true. It was something you had only seen in fanfiction and maybe twisted porn, but never believed real people did, or that it could in fact, happen to you. Truthfully, if someone had told you such a thing will happen, you would have scoffed and called them crazy.

But you were getting ahead of yourself. Your morning started the way it often did during the summer. You got up and walked down the stairs, to find Wanda sipping her coffee and scrolling through her phone. As usual, she put it away as soon as she saw you and she greeted you warmly.

Wanda Maximoff was your stepmother. She had married your father a little over 4 years ago, but you had known her for almost 5 and despite having a rocky start with the woman, you actually had a great relationship with her. She was warm and sweet and she never treated you like a child, nor did she try to “replace” your actual mother, who did her best to stay in your life. In fact, Wanda treated you with respect and kindness and you soon saw her as a friend.

Well… That wasn’t entirely true. You started seeing her as a friend at first, but over the years that connection shifted. She talked to you about the things your parents never wanted to, she always listened without prejudice or judgement and gave amazing advice. She also cared about your interests and she supported all your hobbies and little projects and she even often helped you.

Wanda was there when you decided to make a replica of the “T.A.R.D.I.S” from “Doctor Who” and spent an entire weekend helping you build it, so it would end up perfect, she watched every scary movie you asked for, because you could never bring yourself to do it on your own, and even though you were both scared, she always pretended not to be. For your sake. And then, when you were too scared to sleep alone, she pretended to fall asleep on the couch and let you snuggle into her, even if her back hurt the next day. She encouraged your writing, she read every book you ranted about… She supported you when you came out. For all those things and so much more, you gave Wanda your love.

Unfortunately for you, those were also the reasons why at some point, you stopped seeing Wanda as a friend and started seeing her as the woman of your dreams. Yes, cheesy. But true. And that idea gnawed at you ever since you stopped trying to lie to yourself.

The truth is, you spent way more time with Wanda than your father ever did. He was good, a good man and a good father, but his work often had him travelling for long. When you were young, he often took the whole family with him. Had private tutors for you, made sure you were educated by the best and brightest and the love of learning connected you together. But as you grew older, that life drove your mother away. To make the matters worse, he realized you needed stability just around the same time he met Wanda and soon, you were left in the big house, surrounded by housekeeping and your new stepmother, while he was away for months at a time. But at least he let you attend high school, instead of hiring more tutors, so you wouldn’t feel so alone.

You often wondered why Wanda chose to be with him when you, his daughter, knew more about her, spent more time with her and, you were sure, loved her far more than he did. But you never dared to ask and she never spoke of that, preferring to focus on you instead and you reciprocated that interest. You watched her favourite sitcoms with her, spent afternoons making pottery with her, which resulted in way too many crooked ceramic mugs in your home that you never knew what to do with, but loved too much to throw away. You taught her calligraphy, after you showed her your first story and she declared that you have the “prettiest handwriting” and asked you to teach her. In turn, she gave you cooking lessons, because her food was by far, the best thing you had tasted, until it became a tradition that you made dinner together.

God, you shared so much of your life, so much of yourself with the woman, you gave so much of yourself to her, that it shouldn’t have come as such a surprise that you ended up falling for her. And her way with you didn’t help matters either. And yes, it wasn’t something outrageous. It was little things, like the way she’d hold you, pulling you closer into her side during movie nights, which by the way were almost every night. It was the way she sat with you on the couch in the study, reading her book while you did homework, mindlessly playing with your hair, it was her protective on the small of your back, when you felt surrounded by people, the way she always knew when you needed her to step in and save you from strangers, or the soft way she held your hand when you went somewhere together…

It was never one thing. It was a million little things and each one had you falling more and more deeply in love with her, until you couldn’t deny it anymore. You realized it during your junior year, when all your friends wouldn’t shut up about boys and their crushes and all you would think about was Wanda. What plans you had with her, what you’d watch with her, what meal you’ll be making together, where you’d go over the weekend… It was all Wanda. Even in your dreams. And to make matters worse, those dreams soon manifested into your waking hours, flooding your thoughts with nothing but her.

Now, the beginning of summer after senior year, when you had decided to take a gap year before college and focus on yourself, your writing, perhaps even travelling, you were fully aware that you wanted none of those things without her. You hadn’t booked a single destination, because you hadn’t yet the courage to ask if she’d join you. You had stopped showing her your stories, because they were all about her and despite your best efforts had turned highly suggestive and then straight up erotic, up to the point that they no longer soothed you, when you thought of Wanda, but rather left you even more turned on and needy.

The neediness, unfortunately for you, had been another new development. No matter how many cold showers you took, how many times you masturbated to thoughts of her, the ache between your legs never quite went away. Actually, every time you’d see her, every night when she cuddled you and played you a movie, every evening when you helped her make dinner, each hot afternoon spent at the pool with her, left you a horny mess.

Today, after you helped Wanda make breakfast, that the two of you shared, she asked you if you’d like to go out with her. She had some errands to do and she promised to make it fun, despite the tediousness, offering you lunch at your favourite restaurant, or perhaps a small shopping trip in the afternoon, but you declined, opting to stay home instead.

To be fair, you wanted to go with her, you wanted to spend every second you could with her, but being left home alone meant that you could perhaps catch up on your writing without her seeing you and asking to read your story, or finally take care of the ache between your legs that lately never went away, but you were never alone for… Maybe even do it, the way you so often longed for, but never could… God, you were a twisted girl. But you couldn’t help it. You just wanted her so much.

Wanda seemed a little bit surprised and frankly disappointed by your refusal, but she took a deep breath and she wished you a nice day, before she took her purse and her car keys, phone tucked in the back pocket of her tightly fitted jeans and she left, putting on her stylish sunglass, before opening the front door and disappearing from your view.

As soon as she was gone, you rushed to the study, reaching out behind a cluster of old, dusty books and taking out the Paperblanks hardcover journal dedicated to Edgar Allan Poe that she got you as a gift. It was beautiful and stylish and filled with all the stories you wrote about her.

As soon as the notebook fell open, you saw the last page you had written on and your fingers traced the last paragraph, reading through it. “You don’t hesitate when your fingers lace with my hair, your grip firm as you hold me in place and you study my face. My mouth open, my tongue sticking out as it awaits your dripping pussy...” Yes, you remember that and your legs instantly cross over each-other at the wave of arousal, but you keep it at bay.

For the next few hours all you do is write. Your fantasies running rampant and free and filling the pages. It was almost a trans-like state, your hand moving almost on its own while the images in your head played out in front of your eyes. It felt freeing to be able to “share” your thoughts somehow, even if no one ever saw them and you only reluctantly stopped, when your stomach growled for food and your hand was cramping.

You made your way to the kitchen, groaning, your writing session had left you wet and so needy, that despite your instincts and Wanda’s voice in your head, telling you to eat something heathy and filling, you pulled out a fruit yogurt with mango and maracuja and ate it, leaning on the counter, wanting to stretch your legs a little.

Finished with your “meal”, you headed upstairs, making your way to the bedrooms. Yours was at the end of the hall and you headed for it, but stopped mid-way, when you saw Wanda’s bedroom door was slightly ajar and you stopped right in front of it, debating with yourself. You knew you shouldn’t go in, that it was an invasion of her privacy, but your heart was so full of longing for her that you eventually reasoned, that you’ll only look around… Just get her scent in your nostrils and leave.

As soon as you walked in, your eyes started to search the unfamiliar space. It’s not that you’ve never been here, but the room was so alien to you, one you’d spent the least time in, that it almost didn’t feel right. You certainly never dared be so inquisitive, when Wanda was there with you.

Your eyes scanned every object, every photo, most of which were of you and Wanda and you allowed yourself to breathe in the aroma of everything Wanda. It smelled like clean sheets and her favourite vanilla and Himalayan magnolia air freshener, like her perfume and just something uniquely her. God, you’d roll around in it if you could.

Everything seemed so perfectly in order, her bed made and without a single crinkle in it, the room so pristine and clean. It was lovely, and your heart skipped a beat at the thought that you wished you could wake up here, next to her each morning.

Walking further into the room, your curiosity almost entirely satisfied now, you ran your fingers over the objects she had on display. Souvenirs from trips the two of you had went to, her certificate for completing a “beginners” course in Latin dances, that she only went to for you and that you had stopped attending, because you hated how every man in the studio drooled over her, the ceramic figurine of a cute bear that you made her one time, a bowl of sea shells that the two of you had collected last summer at the beach…

You were just about ready to leave, when the sight of a drawer, half-open and because of that seeming out of place, caught your attention. Everything was so perfectly in order in this room, that it looked so strange to see it left like this and you went to it thoughtlessly, pulling it open to inspect its content, only to gasp in surprise at what you found there.

It was full of toys. Sex toys, to be exact and you couldn’t help but stumble backwards a little at seeing just how many there were. Dildos in all colours, shapes and sizes and made from different materials were organized, each in its individual place. Handcuffs, soft Velcro cuffs and steal, regular ones easily distinguished. Ropes, blindfolds, some butt plugs, vibrators, lube, a couple of harnesses and even other things that you couldn’t name or guess the intended use of, could be seen laid out and you studied them with deep curiosity.

Did Wanda use all these? Did she lay here, in her big, soft bed and play with herself at night? What did she think about? Who did she picture in her fantasies, when she buried one of these toys inside herself? Did she do it slowly, or did she like it rough? How did it feel to be stretched out and full?

As your mind was flooded with questions, you mindlessly got closer, your hand reaching into the drawer and your fingertips grazing a rather large, realistic looking dildo. You’d never actually seen toys in real life, so the sensation was both strange and exhilarating. Sure, you were 19 now and could buy them if you wanted to, but the thought just never appealed to you.

You just couldn’t picture it. You’d never had anything other than two of your fingers inside yourself and it had already felt too much. You couldn’t even imagine what something so big would feel like or would do to you. Did Wanda enjoy the feeling of them? Did she ever wear her harness and bury one of these inside someone or did she like to be on the receiving end? You certainly liked to imagine yourself on the receiving end of one of her toys, especially after you learned of her past with women. She had shared those details when you came out to her, hoping to soothe you and help you feel like you’re not alone, but you never imagined that you’ll one day walk into your stepmother’s bedroom and find so many toys, or that you’ll find yourself wishing you could see her play with them… God, the one you reached for looked so big, so thick in your hand. That could never fit inside you.

Yet the thought of Wanda stepping into her harness and picking out a dildo from her collection, while you waited for her in the bed, spread out and so needy for her, had your legs squeezing together in search for relief. Would she tie you down? Would she be sweet and soft? Would she use her fingers and her mouth? What would it feel like to have your arms wrapped around her, to be able to kiss her, as she had her way with you?

Fuck, you needed relief. And you needed it now. And you knew you should just go to your room and do what you always did, but this time you couldn’t. You couldn’t just close your eyes and picture Wanda, when here, in her room, all your senses were surrounded by her.

You hesitated for a moment, considering the danger, but it was still early and all the staff had the next few weeks off, so you knew you’ll be all alone. You could just… Lie down. Not even under the covers, just on top of her sheets and maybe pull your panties to the side. They were all wet already. You’ll just pull your dress up and take care of that ache and then you’ll fix Wanda’s bed and leave.

You knew it was a bad idea, but in your brain, clouded by lust, you couldn’t help yourself and gave in. So you did exactly as you planned, the skirts of your dress bunched up around your waist, your panties pulled to the side, while your fingers circled your clit. You lay on your stomach, you face buried in Wanda’s pillow and inhaling her scent as your mind filled with images of her. It was wonderful. God, it was heavenly. But it wasn’t enough. Before you knew it, you had made yourself orgasm twice already, but the desperate feeling never went away. You needed more.

You slowly turned, laying on your back, your hand finding its way back to your clit, but it was only a measure to keep you calm while you thought. What could you do? And almost like fate, your face turned to the open drawer full of toys and an idea sparked inside you. You could… No, that was an extremely bad idea. It was wrong… But maybe, it could help?

Getting up, telling yourself you’ll only take a quick look, you made your way back to the drawer and looked inside. You had no idea how to choose, so you trusted your instincts, picking a fairly small, pink dildo that seemed to look cute and entirely forgetting what a terrible idea this was, you made your way back to Wanda’s bed with giddiness, lying on your back and looking the toy over for a moment, before reaching down.

You rubbed the toy’s head against your opening, getting it slick with your juices and teasing your clit a little, before you started to slowly push it inside. The stretch felt unfamiliar, the toy, despite being small, still being larger than your fingers and you took your time to let it sink in deeper, allowing your pussy some time to adjust to it.

In just a few minutes, you had it fully inside you, the base pressing against your opening and oh, it was perfect. It was exactly what you needed and you quickly reached down with your free hand, finding your clit and adding the extra stimulation. Thoughts of Wanda quickly made their way into your head and you started to imagine the older woman doing exactly what you did to yourself, her hands working you perfectly, while her velvety voice wrapped around you and made you lose yourself entirely.

Taking your time to let it unfold, your body buzzing with excitement and pleasure, your muscles tightening, you knew you were about to have one of the best orgasms of your life, when suddenly, you heard the front door open and shortly after shut itself.

Fuck!

Sitting up, you heard Wanda’s keys land in the bowl with yours and your nervous anxiety hit a new high, when she called out your name form the living room.

Fuck!

She’d start looking for you soon, if you didn’t act quickly! God, what do you do? You needed to get out of there!

Your eyes roamed around the room nervously, toy still buried inside you and you knew you couldn’t put it back like that, covered in your slick! She’ll see it eventually and then she’ll know what you did. In the rush of the moment, you did the only thing you thought would be smart. You put your panties back where they belonged, seeing the imprint of the dildo against them and you got out of her bed. You tried to smoothen it as much as you could, but you herd her voice call out your name again, this time from the kitchen and you knew she’ll come up the stairs next. In a rush, you just closed her drawer and practically ran out, leaving the door slightly ajar as it was and you hesitated if you should go to your room, but before you could make your way there, you heard Wanda’s steps as she ascended the stairs and you knew there will be no time.

Closing your eyes for a moment, wiping your sweaty palms on your dress and feeling the fullness as you tried to calm your nerves, you committed to the decision you knew you had to make and despite every instinct of yours, you rushed towards her, meeting her just as she was at the top of the stairs.

“Ah, Y/N, there you are! I was calling you.” She smiled as she saw you, reaching out to give you a hug.

“Yeah, I heard you, I was just coming to meet you.” You manage to say, forcing a smile.

“Are you all right, honey?” The older woman’s eyebrows furrowed. “You look a little flushed.” She said with concern, one of her hands reaching out to feel your forehead. “And you feel warm too.” She determined, her eyes scanning you.

“Yeah, I’m all good.” You tried to reassure her, still practically blocking the older woman’s path.

“You sure?” Wanda asked once more, concern evident in her eyes and you tried to calm your nerves.

“I promise.” You tried to say with conviction and hoping your knees wouldn’t buckle.

“Ok, honey, but if you feel unwell, you’ll tell me, right?”

“Of course.” You smiled warmly and, seeing that the woman seemed to be going to her room, the place where you had just been, you tried to dissuade her. “Hey, I was wondering, could we have pasta for dinner today? The one with the special sauce you make?”

“Sure, honey.” Wanda beamed, her hand stroking your cheek softly before she moved past you. “Let me go get changed and we’ll go make it together.” She suggested.

Not wanting to seem weird, you let the woman pass and after watching her enter her bedroom, you actually relaxed a little, thinking that you could use this time to go back to your own room and pull out the dildo still nestled inside you, when her voice forced you to stiffen once more.

“Hey, honey, why don’t you go and take out the vegetables from the fridge and start washing them? I’ll be right down.” Wanda called out, interrupting your train of thought and destroying any chance you had of going through with disposing of the cursed toy.

“Ok.” You called out, facing the stairs defeatedly.

In your guilt over what you did, you felt like you couldn’t risk saying “no” and going to your room instead, not wanting to rouse Wanda’s suspicion. So, a little wobbly on your legs and feeling even more aroused than when you first went in her bedroom, you walked down the stairs, doing exactly as she asked, planning how to excuse yourself later and pull the damned thing out of you.

Wanda walked into her bedroom and started to unbutton her shirt, asking you to start dinner as she went, but suddenly stopped, her eyes narrowing. It wasn’t that there was something particularly wrong, it’s just that something felt out of place and she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

Shrugging, she tossed her shirt on an empty chair and started to take off her jeans next, leaving herself in just her underwear and going to the closet to pick out more comfy clothes. She put on a pair of black sweats and took out a dark red top that she knew you loved and put it over her head, turning to leave, when her eyes narrowed again.

Her bed was all wrinkled and the covers were looking lumpy and it bothered her somehow. Did she leave it like this today? She leaned down and started to fix it, her hands smoothing the covers and tucking them in as she always did, when her palm ran over a damp spot. Now this really caught her attention and she inspected it more closely.

It looked like a small wet spot, more visible now that she knew to look for it and she wasn’t sure what to make of it. Had you been here? But why would you be on her bed? That didn’t make sense, until a realization came over her, like pieces of a puzzle coming together. Your flushed face, the way you tried to block her path, how out of breath you seemed and this… The state of her bed… She suddenly straightened, rushing to her drawer.

As soon as she opened it, she knew what you had done. She knew her collection very well, knew exactly what she owned and where it was, so the absent pink dildo was like a glaring hole in the middle of her drawer. But why hadn’t you put it back? Had she gotten home and interrupted you? That seemed more and more likely and at the thought, she could only sigh.

Wanda was a lot of things, but stupid just wasn’t one of them. She realized you had a crush on her somewhere around the end of your junior year and at first the thought scared her. Sure, she had noticed you turning into a beautiful young woman, she wasn’t blind, and you had already shared with her that you were gay, but she never imagined you’d develop feelings towards her. Naturally, she thought it was simple curiosity. You were growing, it was normal. It would probably go away on its own. You were surrounded by girls your own age, with young bodies and unburdened by life, so she believed you’d soon move on.

But as time passed those lingering looks you gave her started to be accompanied by something else. A kind of longing in your eyes, a kind of shy almost hope that she couldn’t quite place. Until eventually she did. Wanda knew you better than anyone in the world, she knew what made you tick and as she watched your gaze follow her, while she sipped wine, your eyes fixed on her lips and your legs squeezing together, she realized that your relationship with her had changed. You saw her differently.

That thought scared Wanda more than she ever expected and she excused herself quickly, practically running to her bedroom and burying her face in her pillow and her first thoughts were for you. She felt terrible, imagining how scared you must be, how sad and disheartened to be infatuated with your father’s wife. She kept thinking about how alone you must feel, not being able to tell anyone. How heart wrenching it must be to spend every day with her and know she was with another.

In her eyes you were her girl and she held so much love for you that the knowledge that she caused such feelings inside you, that she caused you so much pain, was devastating to her. After realizing what really bothered you, she spent so many sleepless nights, thinking of you. And in her love, she thought the best thing for you would be to pull away from you.

Yes, she didn’t love your father anymore… If ever. He was hardly ever home, hardly ever spending any time with her, always promising to retire, but never doing so… The only reason she stayed all this time was always you. She married him because she wanted a family, never expecting that she’ll find that in you. And when she had… Well… That made her choice very easy. But you were such a young girl. An old soul, admittedly, but still so young. She couldn’t let you spend those sweet years pining over your stepmother. So pull away she did.

Little did she know how devasted you’d be, feeling her absence as a hole in your heart and crying so many nights, when you thought that she no longer wanted your presence. She watched your heartbreak from afar, hating herself for it, yet thinking it would be for the best, until one night, when she heard you speak to one of your friends on the phone.

Your broken voice almost made her cry then and there and she vowed to never do that to you again. So she made sure that things went back to normal, to the routine the two of you had, but she never quite stopped noticing how the love in you bloomed.

The summer vacation after your junior year she spent entirely with you, having a grand time going to the beach, sunbathing, while you read books and drank cocktails together. Yours virgin, of course. But she’d let you have a sip from hers every once in a while, to indulge your curiosity. She’d rather let you drink with her and make sure you’re safe.

Then came your 18th birthday and the party you hosted at the house, you and your friends having fun around the pool and she thought that with all these people around you, you’d lose interest, but you never did. After everyone was gone, all you wanted was to cuddle up to her on the couch and watch your favourite movie with her. You always preferred her to anyone else, chose to stay home and try new recipes, rather than go out and she thought that perhaps this thing you felt for her was serious.

And once that knowledge settled inside her, it no longer bothered her. And with acceptance came something else. Something she never thought she had in her. A kind of curiosity of her own.

Obviously, she was flattered to know you had such feelings for her. You were a young, sweet thing, your life was just starting and she… How could she take advantage of you?

Then again, you didn’t make it easy for her. The way young girls did, you flirted boldly, openly and in gestures of sudden bravery. You flaunted yourself to her whenever you got the chance. Wearing skimpy bathing suits and even asking her to fix the strings for you, asking her to go shopping with you and dragging her into lingerie stores, showing her different sets and asking her opinion, wearing short dresses and tight shorts whenever she was around, which happened to be all the time… Asking her to watch scary movies with you in your room, cuddling into her in nothing but your panties and a t-shirt and then asking her to stay when you were too scared to stay alone.

Ugh, you were a tease. She’d feel you wiggle unnecessarily, so you’d “settle” and you’d blush furiously anytime she so much as looked at you. She’d wake up with your back pressed against her front, your ass pressed up against her as you slept happily, and every time you’d pull one of those stunts, she’d feel you chip away at her resolve.

You were so soft, so sweet, such a delicate thing, your skin smooth and flawless under her fingertips. Whenever you’d ask her to stay with you, falling asleep on her shoulder, she couldn’t help but stroke the exposed skin of your bare arms, the length of your thighs, just to feel you. It was a small action, was it not? Done out of curiosity. And it soothed her to be able to get this small thing for herself, since she had promised herself not to take you entirely.

Your last year of high school passed like that, with you parading yourself and eventually Wanda broke. She told herself she’d never make a move on you. It was wrong, but she needed an outlet for her frustration. That’s how she first spent a night thinking of you while she touched herself. Not that thoughts of you hadn’t crossed her mind before, but she always pushed them away. But when she no longer could, that one action broke the dam.

The images of you flooded her mind constantly and she found herself seeking relief in the privacy of her bedroom, imagining she had you to play with. She thought of all the gloriously depraved things she could do to you, the things she could teach you and all the ways she could corrupt you. It would be so sweet.

It got worse as your feelings progressed and she’d often wake to the sounds of your moans in the middle of the night. The first time such a thing happened she rushed to your room, thinking maybe you’re in pain, only to see you sprawled on your bed, legs spread wide and your hand moving furiously in your panties. You thought you were being quiet, that you were being subtle, but honestly, she could sometimes make out the way you called her name as you made yourself cum.

Now, looking in her drawer of toys and realizing what you’d done, she tried to let it go, but she just couldn’t. You went behind her back, sneaked into her bedroom, snooped through her things, used her toys and masturbated on her bed. As much as she was impressed by your boldness and surprised to find that your desire for her went that far, she was furious. You didn’t even have the decency to hide it well! Why didn’t you just wash the toy and put it back? Did you still have it? Ugh, she was angry!

She knew you probably didn’t mean for it to go this far, but she just couldn’t help it. How was she meant to stay away from you, to keep her resolve and refrain from marching down and fucking you senseless, when you did such things? She had to teach you a lesson.

Her fingers clenching over the edge of the drawer, knuckles turning white, Wanda was ready to slam it shut and storm down the stairs, when her eyes landed on a pink remote control. It was for the dildo you had used and she was surprised you hadn’t taken that too, before she realized you probably had no idea it had a vibrating function. Or maybe you hadn’t gotten that far. Who knows? Either way, an idea sparked into her head and she decided to test a theory and if she was right, tonight she’ll teach you a lesson and pay you back for every time you’d teased her, every time you paraded yourself in front of her, every time you tempted her and made her crave you.

In the back of her head, she knew what this decision meant. She knew she wouldn’t be able to stop herself. If she went through with it, she’d go all the way. Closing her eyes and breathing in, she tried to think clearly, but she had reached the end of her restraint, the end of her self-control. She couldn’t pretend that she didn’t want this anymore. She had to have you.

Taking the small remote control, she put it in the pocket of her sweats and she walked down the stairs. She found you prepping the vegetables, just as she asked, your cheeks still flushed, but you tried to act as normal as possible. With a smile, Wanda did the same, starting to make the dough for the homemade pasta and starting up a light conversation with you.

“So, honey, what did you do today?” She asked sweetly.

“Oh you know, just normal things…” You trailed off as your legs squeezed together.

“Yeah? Did you finish the new book I told you about?”

“No, not yet. But almost. I’m so excited to see what happens.” You tried to feign interest, but Wanda knew you. You hadn’t read a page. “What about you, did you have a nice day?”

“Nice isn’t how I’d describe it. But I’m glad to be home.” She responded shortly. “You know, sweetie, why don’t you get the sauce started and leave it on the stove, I’ll watch it while I make the dough and you can sit down. You still look a little flushed.” She suggested and you sighed with relief at her offer, doing as she asked, finishing as quickly as possible and making your way to a chair in the kitchen, sitting down and watching her cook, the way you have so many times before.

Except, as soon as you sat, you realized it was a mistake. The dildo, still nicely nestled inside you, was pressed against the surface of the chair and pushed as deeply as it could go, causing you to let out a small whimper at the feeling of being so full and even with her back to you, Wanda knew that her suspicion was right.

“What was that, dear?” She turned to look at you for a moment, your legs squeezing together so tightly your muscles shook.

“N-nothing…” You stuttered out, a hand gripping the edge of the table.

My, you were so responsive. You must have been close, if you were this worked up. How delightful. Wanda was going to have so much fun with you.

Unaware of how closely you were being watched, or of the wicked plan your stepmother had formulated for you, you started to gently rock on the chair, the movement bringing brief relief to the aching between your legs. But Wanda wasn’t going to let you just fuck yourself right in front of her. If anyone was going to fuck you tonight, it was going to be her.

Reaching into her pocket, she felt around for the buttons of the remote control and she turned it on and let it start at the lowest setting. Your reaction was instantaneous. You gasped, trying to do it quietly and softly, but she heard you none the less.

Feeling the dildo start to vibrate had you stiffen on the chair. God, did your slow grinding press the start button on the device? It was possible. Now you felt the gentle hum of the lowest setting and it drove you crazy. Perhaps with some concentration you could ignore feeling the toy inside you, but you couldn’t contain yourself like this. It was nestled at the deepest parts of you and vibrating against an especially sensitive spot and it had you shaking.

“Wanda, I think I’m going to lie down.” You suddenly said, swallowing hard and preparing yourself to stand.

“Oh, sweetheart!” She gasped when she turned to you. You looked a mess and it was absolutely breath-taking. She always wanted to see you like this. Now that she was so close, she wasn’t going to let you slip away so quickly. “What’s wrong? You seem even more flushed. And your forehead is so hot, baby, maybe you should lie down on the couch, so I can take care of you.” She suggested with concern. “I’ll bring you a cool cloth for your forehead and a glass of water.” She suggested, offering you her hand and guiding you to the couch.

“No, you don’t have to do that, I’ll just lie down upstairs for a bit.” You tried to protest, following her lead on instinct, despite your wish to escape to your room, but she was having none of it.

“But, sweetie, you can barely walk.” She argued, guiding you to the couch. “Look at that, you’re shaking. Lie down here for me, honey. I’ll take care of you.” She suggested, helping you lie down.

She went to grab you a glass of water, just as she promised and, on her way back, she watched you squirm and try to contain the sensations going through your body. When she made you drink at least some of the water, she left the glass on the table and she went to get you a cool cloth for your forehead, but not before sticking her hand in her pocket and increasing the speed of the vibrator.

A loud moan graced her ears just as she did it and she could hardly contain her smirk as she walked back to you.

“Now, honey, you stay here and rest and I’ll go check on dinner and I’ll be right back, ok?” She explained with a soft voice and she stroked your cheek affectionately, basking in the state you were in.

Your cheeks were burning with a mixture of arousal and shyness, your whole body squirming with need, even your hips bucking, when you thought Wanda wasn’t looking, loving the stimulation, yet needing so much more. Fuck, she could play with you like this for hours. If she had it her way, she’d strip you down first, of course, but there was plenty of time for that later. She’d watch you writhe and make you beg to be allowed to cum, push you to admit what you did and then tease you some more as punishment for it. And once you’ve surrendered, she’d make you cum over and over again, until you can’t take anymore. She’ll take your shaking little body upstairs and help you get cleaned up, so she can cuddle you to sleep. But she was getting ahead of herself.

She went to check on the pasta and the sauce you were making, stirring the pots and making sure that it wouldn’t get burned. She often looked at you at the corner of her eye, watching you writhe and, deciding to take pity on you, she clicked the off button on the remote control in her pocket, seeing you instantly settle in both relief and frustration. It was obvious you wanted more, that you needed that orgasm badly, but you didn’t want to get caught and Wanda smirked to herself. She’ll make you beg for an orgasm soon enough.

In the next minutes she let you rest, while she set up the table and finished dinner, not wanting to overwhelm you too much too early. She came over to you carefully, checking to see if you managed to put yourself together and you indeed looked much better. The frustration from the teasing and edging was obvious, but other than that you were holding up quite well and she smiled.

“Hey, honey, how are you feeling?” She asked softly. “Do you think you can come to the dinner table, so we can eat, or should I bring your food here?” She suggested, smiling.

“I’ll come to the table.” You agreed, removing the damp cloth from your forehead and taking her hands, so you could stand.

“Ok, baby, wash your hands and let’s eat.” She smiled softly at you.

Once you settled, poorly hiding a whimper when the dildo was once again pressed into your depths and against your most sensitive spots, you struggled to find topics for a conversation, but Wanda distracted you, telling you about her day and keeping your mind occupied while you ate. It was still hard to keep your urge to grind down on the toy sometimes, especially when Wanda would look at you with those pretty green eyes and swirl the wine in her glass, before sipping it. How could she be so sensual without even trying?

“Wanda, I think I’ll head upstairs. I feel tired.” You tried to excuse yourself after the meal was finished.

“Oh, really?” She said with disappointment in her voice. “You sure? I was thinking we could watch a movie together.” She suggests, pouting at you cutely and melting your heart.

“I don’t know…” You hesitated, wanting to stay, but feeling your walls contract around the dildo inside you and almost making your legs buckle.

“Maybe for a bit?” She offered with hope in her eyes. “You lie down and pick anything you want to watch and I’ll make us some popcorn. If you’re still not feeling well, I’ll help you upstairs.”

You tried to refuse her, you really did, but the truth was, that you could never say “no” to Wanda Maximoff. She was your greatest weakness and you knew you’d do anything she asks, no matter what, so you settled onto the couch, searching through the movie options and finding one that looked promising, while she brought over the big bowl of popcorn she made, sitting down next to you and pulling you into her side, just as she always did, kissing the top of your head affectionately.

You played the movie, trying to distract yourself and reminding yourself that all you had to do is get through the movie with her and then you’ll go to your room and have all the orgasms you wanted. It was just a couple of hours with Wanda.

But you’d barely gotten through the intro, when the vibrator came to life with a sudden buzz and you had to refrain from grinding against the couch at how good it felt. But that’s all the restraint you could show and you quickly realized Wanda was looking at you with concern.

“What’s the matter, sweetie? Is everything all right?”

You barely nodded, pretending to watch, when all you could do was do your best to stay still in Wanda’s hold. God, how did this thing turn on again? How do you stop it, before you have an orgasm, right there, sitting next to the woman you were desperately in love with? Worse! What if she hears the vibration? Could she hear it right now?

It was driving you crazy and holding back became increasingly difficult as time passed, your breathing going more erratic and just when you thought that it will happen, regardless if you wanted to or not, the vibrations suddenly stopped.

“Did you say something, honey?” Wanda turned to you once more, making you realize that you had whined pretty loudly.

“N-no.” You stutter out, shaking your head and she barely contains the smirk forming on her face, before it gives away just how much she’s enjoying this.

She gives you a break, letting you calm down, before she turns on the vibrator again, startling you and this time you look at her, trying to see if she actually noticed, but Wanda had her attention on the TV.

The damned thing was driving you crazy, but you couldn’t help a thought that crept into your mind. Why does it keep going on and off? Was it you? You were sitting pretty still… And then another, more shocking thought sparkled in your mind. Could Wanda? No, that was absurd. Even if she found out you took it, how would she know you still had it inside you? Would she do this on purpose?

As you turned to her, studying her expression, you couldn’t imagine Wanda doing such a thing. But you had to know for sure. So you waited for that moment when you got close, your body starting to lose some of its control and just as you were about to fall off the edge, the toy stopped, leaving you desperate and needy, extremely frustrated and utterly shocked. Did she just put her hand in her pocket? Did she have the remote there?

You had a million questions almost clouding your brain and you had no idea how to ask, no idea how to approach that subject, scared that if you were wrong, you’ll give yourself away, when Wanda suddenly turned to you.

“I see you finally figured it out.” She said in a low, raspy voice, smiling. She was almost predatory with the way she was looking at you, her soft green eyes now full of intensity. “Don’t you know that taking someone else’s things without permission is wrong?” She asked, raising a brow at you expectantly.

“I… Wanda… It’s not…” You tried to say something coherent, putting a little distance between your bodies, but you were in a state of shock and you couldn’t find the right words to explain.

“Not what it looks like?” She finished the sentence for you, scoffing. “I highly doubt that. Or are you going to deny that you snooped through my bedroom and took something that doesn’t belong to you?” She asked sternly, her eyes fixing you.

“I… ” You tried again, the words never coming out. “I didn’t mean to!” You tried, knowing it was a useless protest.

“Well, what did you mean to do, sweetness, hm? Come on, explain it for me.” She challenged again, raising a brow at you impatiently.

She gave you some time to collect whatever was left of your thoughts and she waited for you to say something coherent, but nothing actually came. There was no excuse, and you knew it well.

“Wanda… Please.” You said quietly, not even sure what you were asking of her, just knowing that you couldn’t stand the way she was looking at you, couldn’t stand how disappointed she was.

“Should I tell you what I think happened, hm?” She asked, her tone having that stern edge again. And before you could answer, she continued. “Or are you going to tell me yourself?” She asked again, holding up the remote control that was previously sitting in her pocket. “Do you need a little incentive?” She asked with a predatory grin, a slender finger hovering over the start button. “Maybe another edge or two would loosen your tongue?” She suggested, almost turning the device on.

“Oh my God, Wanda, please, no! Please! I can’t take anymore!” You begged pitifully and her heart melted a little, knowing you’ve probably never been edged. Even now you had your legs squeezed together, your eyes fixed on the remote she was holding.

To be fair, Wanda never intended to be cruel with you. She only wanted to be kind towards you, but you had pushed her buttons today and it had brought out a side of her she never wanted to show you. And you had never earned such treatment from her either, so she found it hard to contain her emotions, but she took a deep breath and tried to soften her features.

“Please, I’ll never do that again!” You pleaded.

“Oh, I know, sweetheart.” She said with surprising gentleness, stroking your cheek affectionately. “I’ll make sure of that. But you’ll have to tell me why you did it.” She explained.

“I can’t…” You tried to protest again, voice shaking. How could you explain that you’re in love with her?

“If you can do it, you should be able to talk about it.” Wanda coaxed.

“Please, let me just go upstairs and I’ll clean everything up and…”

“Oh, no, it’s too late for that now.” Wanda interrupted you, knowing where you were trying to go with that thought. “You don’t get to pretend that nothing happened.” She added with a thoughtful expression. “You see… I tried to pretend that I don’t see the way you act, or your little skimpy outfits, or the way you look at me. I tried to pretend that I don’t hear you calling my name at night, when you touch yourself… I tried to stay away and be a good stepmother, a good wife… And then you go and do something like this… Tell me, Y/N, what should I do with you now, hmm?”

Her words, the way she said them… The admission that she knew of your feelings sent you spiralling all over again and you didn’t even know where to begin. What were you meant to say? What did she intend to do? Was she going to tell your father? God, you hoped she wouldn’t. Not even because you were so afraid of him, but because you were so afraid of losing her. You never wanted to lose her.

“It would be so wrong of me to take you.” Wanda continues, talking more to herself now, her words taking a surprising turn. “So wrong… But you make it so hard for me to resist you.” She confessed. “You’ve been driving me crazy.” She said in a low voice, getting closer to where you stood, cupping your chin with her fingers, so she could make sure that you’ll look at her. “Do you know how hard it has been? Watching you offer yourself to me so shamelessly, listening to your moans at night, hearing you call my name and having to stay away from you…” Wanda’s gaze had darkened, making your pussy throb around the vibrator inside you and leaving you even more needy and helpless in her hold. God, you wanted her! “Do you know how many nights I almost didn’t? Do you know how many nights I had to cum to your filthy little sounds, imagining that it was me, making you feel that good?” She asked, searching your face.

You couldn’t believe the words that kept coming out of her mouth, couldn’t believe that she would ever want the same thing you did, that she would even give you the time of day… You wondered if she really meant it. Yet she kept speaking, her words making the ache between your legs almost unbearable and the need to grind against the vibrator nestled inside you harder and harder to resist. You were ready to combust. Fuck, you were ready to let her do absolutely anything and everything to you, just as long as she finally took you.

“Tell me something, honey…” Her words pulled you from your thoughts. “Do you want Mommy to make you feel good? Is that why you pulled this little stunt? Wanted to get my attention?” She asked, watching your eyes go wide at the mention of the title you used, the one you moaned out when you thought of her. “Oh, yes, I know what you like to call me.” She smirked. “It has a very nice ring to it, when you moan it out, touching yourself.”

You could only whine, too scared to admit how badly you needed her, how much you thought of her, how long you’ve waited for this moment, but Wanda didn’t rush. She held your gaze and she searched your eyes, filled with longing, as she let you think this through. If she was going to do this, she would do it right.

“Wanda… Please?” You uttered in almost despair, not knowing how to ask for what you wanted and not daring to hope that you would be lucky enough to get it.

“Please what, sweetheart? What do you want?” She asked softly, her thumb brushing your cheekbone as a way to soothe you. “You’ll have to use your words.” She coaxed, when she saw the way you took her hand, trying to guide it lower, to where you needed her most.

“Mommy…” You whined once more, trying to plead with her, hoping that it will affect her enough to finally make that final move.

Hearing your pleas, hearing that title pass your lips as you looked at her was easily pulling at her heart strings. It was also making her want to ruin you. She couldn’t deny that it did something to her and despite your poor behaviour today, she wanted to be good to you, wanted to care for you, to shower you with the love and affection you deserved, but she couldn’t make that move, not before you asked. She had no intention to be cruel to you, she just wanted to be sure, that you wanted to take that step with her.

“I know you’re feeling shy, dear, but this matters to me.” She said softly. “I need you to know what this means and I need to know that you want it. For that, you’ll have to use your words.” She clarified again, waiting for her words to sink in, but this time she didn’t have to wait long.

“You know I want this. For years I’ve wanted this, wanted you. And I never thought you’d ever see me, the way I see you, but Wanda, if you do… Please, don’t make me wait anymore. Please?”

As soon as she heard that, she leaned forward, capturing your chin with her fingers and looking deep in your eyes, letting the anticipation build between you, before she slowly connected your lips in a gentle kiss. It’s slow and soft, she moves tentatively, bringing her body closer, so she could let her tongue explore you as well, and she’s pleasantly surprised when your hands grip her top, pulling her on top of you.

Just this small contact had your heart fluttering with joy. You never thought this could be your reality. It felt so good to feel her weight against you. You had waited too long for this. You had spent so many endless nights thinking of just this. But Wanda was worth it. To be able to smell her, to taste her for yourself, you would do it all over again.

Her hands were just as gentle as they ran up and down your neck, or buried themselves in your hair and you couldn’t help but moan and whimper as you desperately tried to get more friction and more attention from her.

She was trying to take it slow, letting herself feel the culmination of her longing and just enjoy the way your lips felt, but it just wasn’t enough. She wanted to feel more of you, feel every part of you against her and explore every millimetre of your gorgeous body. This moment between you was long overdue and you both knew it.

Tentatively, she straddled one of your thighs, pressing her knee against your aching core, hoping to provide some much-needed relief to you both, but it only made you needier and more desperate for Wanda to finish what she started.

“Mommy, please.” You whispered softly, breaking the kiss to look up at her with longing and she instantly understood.

As much as you hoped to hold yourself together, as much as you wanted to prolong this moment, scared that if you opened your eyes, she’ll disappear, you couldn’t help the way your pussy throbbed. You had waited hours, teased and edged and filled to the brim with no relief and you couldn’t stand it a second longer. You needed to cum, or you were going to combust.

Wanda met your gaze, her head spinning from how lost she let herself get in your kisses, only to see you in a similar state. The love and adoration in your eyes, all that pent up longing and your pleas were irresistible. She had to indulge you. Then again, she also had to teach you a lesson and it felt right to use this toy. You had started all this by taking it after all.

With a devilish grin, Wanda reached into her pocket, feeling for the remote control and blindly pressing the start button. She felt the toy come to life with a sudden buzz, the vibrations dull against her knee, but from the way you gasped at the sensation, she could tell you were having a much more intense experience and she let it continue its work, while she took you in a deep kiss.

When it became too hard to keep up with her, your mind too distracted by the pleasure, she started to kiss her way down your body, kissing your neck and helping you grind against her, elated to hear the way you moaned and whimpered from every small touch. God, you were gorgeous.

“Look at you.” She admired you with a soft smile. “I’m about to make you fall apart, while fully dressed and without a single touch to your pussy.” She rasped, her hands massaging your breasts through the fabric of your dress and bra.

Her words made your cheeks burn and pulled another whine from you, yet you couldn’t deny how hot it was, or how badly you wanted it. In fact, they only made you grind against her more, trying to pull her in for another kiss, desperate to feel her against you.

She was right too. You were shaking beneath her, your movements turning more erratic, the closer to your edge you would get, and knowing that once you were there, you wouldn’t be able to stop it.

“Mommy, please I want to cum.’’ You pleaded softly. “Please, don’t stop it this time.”

“So pretty when you beg.” Wanda smirked. “You wanna cum, my darling?”

“Yes, want to cum so badly.”

“If you want to cum, you have to promise Mommy some things first.” Wanda explained, removing a strand of hair from your face. “First: You’ll never take Mommy’s toys again without permission.” She stated sternly. “Is that clear?”

“Yes, Mommy, I promise.” You nodded, body squirming under her intense gaze. God, you were close.

“Second: No more touching yourself. And no more cumming unless you have Mommy’s permission either.” She explained while she trailed soft kisses down your neck. “Understood?”

“Yes! Yes, I understand.” You almost screamed, your hips stuttering against her. “Fuck!”

“Good.’’ She smiled triumphantly. She could probably get you to agree to just about anything right now. “But most importantly, no one else is allowed to see you like this, to touch you like this, to feel you and fuck you and kiss you the way I can. You’re all mine, got it?” She almost growled in your ear, one of her hands tangling in your hair to make you look up at her.

“Yes! God, yes! I don’t want anyone else, Mommy, just you. Please! I just want to be yours. Please? Can I be yours? Can I please cum?” You spoke in a high-pitched tone, your desperation reaching new hights as you heard the possessiveness in her voice.

Wanda could tell you were seconds away from your orgasm and the smile that spread over her face when she reached into her pocket, stopping the vibrator, could only be described as evil. She found it amusing that you would think that she’d let you cum like this, with a toy you had taken from her, instead of getting to feel you for herself.

“Oh my God, no, no no…” You whined, tears prickling your eyes as the sting of denial hit you full force. It was horrible, being so close, yet unable to finish. If Wanda wasn’t right on top of you, you would have reached down, trying to finish it yourself. At the same time the pleasure that burned through you, unyielding and demanding was somehow sweet.

“How does that feel, my sweet girl?” Wanda asked with a calm, self-satisfied tone that had chills run down your spine. Something told you that she would love to do this to you again. “Frustrating, right?”

“Yes.” You whined, as your nails dug into her arms, as the orgasm you had built started to dull down and fade.

“That’s what it felt like, every time you teased me.” She explained with a growl. “That’s what it felt like, to find out you took something of mine without my permission.” She added, as she took down your panties, her eyes zeroing in on the pink vibrator nestled inside you. “I’ll do much worse, if you try something like that again.” She snarled, the threat clear in her voice.

“I wouldn’t Mommy, I promise.” You squirmed under her inquisitive eyes.

“Learned your lesson, huh, my darling?” She smirked, pulling out the dildo as well, discarding it on the floor carelessly, so she can admire your sweet pussy. You were so beautiful like this. Legs spread wide, slick folds on display and your desperate pussy twitching with need and excitement. You were perfect. “Then let me show you how good I can be to you.”

With a smile, she teased her fingers over your sensitive folds, playing with your clit and pulling small moans from you, before she eased her digits inside you. Your tight walls accepted her gladly, fluttering and pulsing around her happily and a string of moans filled her ears. She curled them experimentally, looking for your sweet spot and it didn’t take long to find it, your back arching off the couch in delight.

“Yeah, that’s your spot, isn’t it? Right there.” She emphasized her words, by pressing on it again.

“Yes, right there!” You sighed, back arching as the pleasure inside you started to grow again.

Wanda’s fingers were even better than the toy, stretching you deliciously, as they moved just the way you liked and you couldn’t believe that you had lived so long without getting to experience them.

Her hungry eyes were stuck on the view of her fingers moving in and out of you, your juices sticking to the palm of her hand, that she made sure to press against your clit at each stroke. It was obscene how much you reacted to her, how badly you needed her and you tried to pull her closer, so you’d hide in the crook of her neck, but she wouldn’t let you.

“No need to be embarrassed, darling. Mommy loves to see how good she makes you feel.” She husked, but gave in none the less, wanting to feel you close to her.

She peppered soft kisses on your cheeks and jaw, trailed them down your neck and against your ear as you moaned for her, clawing at her clothed back and it took everything in her not to stretch you out with a third finger. When your walls tightened around her, gripping her hard, she knew you were getting close again, your insatiable little pussy just begging her for more.

“Are you going to cum for me, baby?” She asked sweetly. “Are you going to make a mess all over my fingers?”

“God, yes!” You gasped, trying to pull her impossibly closer.

“Show me.” Wanda husked, claiming your lips in another kiss, nestling even closer to you, pulling your legs around her waist, so she could press against you snugly, almost folding you in half as her fingers worked your G-spot.

The position was surprisingly intimate, your body trapped under Wanda. It felt snug and safe, all your senses surrounded by her. You could smell her perfume, see the curtain of her soft, wavy hair falling around you, taste her as she kissed you, feel her deep inside you as you reached your edge with soft moans of pure pleasure.

When you finally fell over it, she helped you ride the waves of extasy, her fingers never stopping their movement. You were writhing under her, but she held you down effortlessly, until you gave her everything you had to offer and she pulled out of you with a contented grin.

“That’s my good girl.” She praised, lifting up her fingers to inspect them and slowly putting them in her mouth, so she could clean them up. “And so delicious too.” She added happily.

For a moment she contemplated letting you rest, but her own arousal was driving her crazy, the wetness in her panties a stark reminder of how badly she needed some relief. But it wasn’t just that. She hadn’t even properly undressed you yet, hadn’t had a chance to taste you from the source. She wanted to do so many things to you…

“Thank you.” You purred like a happy cat, stretching a little from underneath her.

“Such good manners.” Wanda mused. “Always such a good girl for me.” She smiled, noting the way you beamed proudly at her praise. “Think you can help Mommy undress you?” She asked, waiting for your happy nod of consent and your eager adjustment, so you can help her lift off your dress and discard it.

For a moment you felt a little insecure about yourself, despite the many times you had paraded yourself in front of Wanda, but she didn’t let you dwell on it for too long. She kissed you deeply, her lips never leaving yours, while her hands reached behind you and unclasped your bra, throwing it somewhere behind her, while her hands explored you. Your skin was so soft to her touch, your body responding to every little caress and begging for more.

You were gorgeous in this state and she wanted to show you just how much she truly loved you, wanted to show you how deep her feelings really went, wanted you to know that this meant everything to her. You meant everything to her.

“Can I see you too, please?” You asked shyly, while she massaged your breasts, eyes fixed on them hungrily.

“Of course, darling.” She smiled knowingly, probably realizing how shy you must feel, being the only one naked. “Do you want to do it, or should I?”

“May I?” You practically beamed at her, sitting up in anticipation.

“Of course, sweetness.” Wanda smiled softly, stopping her movements, so she could give you some space.

Undressing Wanda was almost a spiritual experience. Each item of clothing you were able to remove revealed more of her beauty to your adoring gaze and she felt the swell of pride when she watched you take in every curve with admiration. It felt so good to be admired so openly and she allowed you to take your time, to kiss and caress her, as you shed her clothing.

When you unclasped her bra, freeing her breasts, you almost drooled at the sight of them. Perky nipples stood at attention, begging to be worshipped and you barely had time to ask if she’d let you, before you did just that. Capturing each breast in your palms, you swirled your tongue over her nipples, sucking on them gently and smiling when you pulled soft sighs of pleasure from the older woman.

As you finally reached her underwear, lacy, red panties fully capturing your attention, you couldn’t help but gasp, when you found her just as wet as you were.

“Do you like seeing that, honey? Do you like knowing you make me this wet? Do you like knowing that every night I heard you call out to me, I got just as wet, touching myself to the thought of making you mine? Does it excite you, knowing that you caused all this?”

“Yes, Mommy! I always wanted you just like that. Always wanted to know how you would feel, what you would taste like, if I could have you in my mouth.” You confessed, remembering each time you fantasized that Wanda would find you with your hand between your legs and give you exactly what you wanted.

“Well, now that you have me, have a taste.” She nodded happily, helping you take off her panties and spreading her legs, to give you a good view of her soaked folds.

Instead of answering, you just kneeled, slipping off the couch effortlessly and finding your place between her legs. With the sight of her soaked panties and the delicious smell of her reaching your nostrils, you could already feel your mouth water. There was something so erotic about having her above you like this.

Wanda looked as regal as a queen as she let you take her in in all her glory. Darkened, green eyes never looked away from you, as she left everything on display. And by all the gods, she was magnificent. Everything about her was pure perfection and you were happy to stay right there, on your knees, forever, worshipping and admiring her, if it wasn’t for the hand, that soon tangled itself in your hair, pulling you closer to her.

She leaned in, kissing you fully and only pulled away, when you both needed to breathe.

“Don’t make me wait too long.” She said as she leaned back against the couch, the hand in your hair pulling you forward and closer to where she wanted you.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” You smiled, moving forward on your own and taking a small experimental lick.

Her reaction was instantaneous, her fingers tightening their grip and pulling you all the way, until your mouth was flush against her. She sighed with satisfaction, her legs spreading wider, to give you more room to explore her and by God, she tasted so good. You wanted to devour her whole.

“Yeah, that’s better!” She sighed, her hips canting up against your mouth, as your tongue swirled over her clit. “Just like that, baby.”

Her praise was almost hypnotic, sparking something inside you, an urge to be better than all her other lovers, to show her that you’re worth all this, that you would earn the privilege to be hers. To show her that you would learn what made her feel good, what made her moan out in pleasure, what had her screaming and bucking her hips into your mouth. You’d learn it all and you’ll give it to her, just so she would call you her good girl again.

“Fuck, yes!” She cursed under her breath. “So fucking good with your mouth.”

Her hand in your hair kept you firmly against her, nails scratching at your scalp as Wanda guided you through what she wanted. And she wasn’t shy about it either. The closer she got, the more she used you for her pleasure, her legs planted on your shoulders as she rode you even more.

“Fingers, honey. Put your fingers inside me.” She spoke breathlessly, almost suffocating you with how much she pushed you into her pussy, when she felt you enter her. “Yes, just like that!” She praised. “Such a good girl. Gonna make Mommy cum so hard.”

The prospect of making her cum had your excitement reach new levels and you doubled your efforts, swirling your tongue around her clit in circles that seemed to drive her crazy. You could feel her walls pulse around your fingers, squeezing you and pulling you in, as far as you could go and you knew she wouldn’t last much longer.

Wanda reached her edge with a high-pitched moan, her thighs squeezing around your head and the hand in your hair tightening its hold on you almost painfully, just as she started to fall apart. The orgasm that built in the pit of her stomach spread like a tidal wave, coursing through her entire body as she shook against you.

She could feel your free hand gripping her thigh, trying to keep her steady as you helped her ride it all out. When she did, body slumping on the couch with a happy sigh, she hurried to pull you up and into her embrace. Getting to cum with your mouth and fingers felt so much better than the empty nights she spent with her toys and she knew she wouldn’t be able to give you up, even for a second.

When she was able to recover, she got up, helping you to your feet with a gentle hand.

“Let me take you upstairs, sweetheart.” She suggested. “I believe you had an interest in my collection?”

Her words were full of innuendo and you practically leaped, following her up the stairs and only stopping in front of her bedroom.

“Wanda?” You looked up at her, a little insecure.

“Yes, darling.” She paused, at hearing her name pass your lips, instead of the title you chose to give her.

“Is this…” You tried to ask, but couldn’t find the right words, biting your lips in anticipation. “Does it mean…”

“You mean everything to me, Y/N.” She said reassuringly, clearly understanding what you wanted to ask.

She had spent her whole life looking for love like yours. For someone, who would worship her the way you did. And now that she had it, she couldn’t imagine ever letting you go. Couldn’t imagine ever sharing you with another soul, or letting anyone ever touch you the way she did. As soon as she kissed you, she knew that she will commit to you for good.

“Do you mean it?” You looked at her with hopeful eyes. “Because I…”

“So do I, my darling.” She smiled softly at you, knowing that neither one of you was ready to admit it just yet.

The two of you stood there, in front of her door, for a few moments longer, just smiling at each-other, letting your eyes say the things you couldn’t form into words, before you couldn’t stand the tension any longer.

“May I kiss you again?” You asked a little shyly, fighting the urge to hide into her again.

Wanda’s smile only widened. She opened her door, the soft light from within illuminating the perfectly pristine space, as she pulled you closer to her.

“Come inside, sweetheart and you can do so much more than just kiss.”

______________________________________________________

I just might have to make a part 2 to this fic, because there is just so much left unsaid here... But at least I get to share the beginning with you guys! Let me know what you think!

If you liked this story and you want more, please visit the Masterlist with all my works. Happy reading!

Disclaimer: Image not mine. I'd happily give credit to the owner if I knew who they were :)

#writing #lesbian #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff smut #bottom!reader #top!wanda #scarlet witch

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sleepinthrumyalarms · 1 year

Text

— HEAVEN AND BACK

pairing: wednesday addams x fem!reader

warnings: smut, lesbian sex, bondage, sensory deprivation, degradation (just a little), strapon referred to as cock, wednesday is a sadist, all characters are aged-up

summary: wednesday addams is cruel in many ways - you know that better than anyone else

word count: 1.2k

a/n: buckle up y'all, the wednesday smut agenda starts today

"Is this loose enough?" The ravenette asks softly, perfectly manicured digits gently caressing your chin.

You flex your palms where they're tied behind your back as you sit on the bed, making sure the blood flow in your hands isn't restricted, before nodding.

"Good," her eyes darken, and the hold she has on your face turns rough, fingers manhandling your jaw to look up at her, "Because that's all the movement you'll be allowed tonight."

You whine in dismay, pulling at your restraints, and the leather digs into your wrists, leaving you whimpering and tugging at the cuffs in another poor attempt at freedom.

Wednesday draws in closer, moving to sit on your lap, stocking — clad legs swinging over your thighs . You're thankful for the fleeting moment of seeing her like this, and you try to catch as much of her as you can, wanting to engrave the image into your brain— she's fully clothed, a display of composure and dominance, dark hair in the usual tight braids, her starched blouse hanging off her shoulders with buttons undone, and, as your eyes slide down over her milky breasts and lower, you're painfully aware that the ravenette has disposed of her panties, her skirt the only thing keeping you from seeing her perfect pussy.

Her picture is marvelous, but the way Wednesday eyes you up like a hungry beast is so dirty, and she has to bite her lip to restraint herself, but it's half - hearted — the only one needing restraint tonight will be you.

The black blindfold is silky against your skin when the ravenette presses it to your eyes, and you feel all your senses skyrocket when your sight is restricted — the smell of the girl in front of you overtakes, and it's darkly woodsy, so herbaceous and smoky and so Wednesday. She pulls back, admiring her work — you look so perfect like this, all tied up and pretty for her enjoyment, for her to take as much as she needs — and take she will.

The collar around your neck tightens as the ravenette holds the leash in a tight grip, and you hear her hum pleasantly at the way you gasp. Small palms pressing into your shoulders, she hovers over the silicone cock that's tightly strapped to your pubis, and proceeds to slowly lower herself down. Wednesday is never above teasing herself, pressing her pretty cunt against the bulbous head, and it spreads her lips as she lingers on the toy, inches from sinking onto it but not quite there yet. You wish you could catch a glimpse of her heat, wetness dripping down the thick shaft and no doubt mixing with your own.

She enjoys the deprivation as much as you do — well, to a certain degree, as, unlike you, she gets to see your writhing form, the way your bruised lips waver with every shaky inhale you take. Wednesday inches her face closer to yours, gasping into your half - open mouth rasply, and you almost go delusional.

Her lips barely graze yours, and you can sense it, the way she sinks onto the girth agonizingly slow, and you groan as you feel Wednesday sigh into your ear, the gentle feeling making goosebumps rise up your neck. She bares her pearly whites to nibble at your earlobe, silencing herself, and oh, how cruel the girl above you is, robbing you of her prettiest sounds, your only consolation in such a predicament. You wish you could touch her, knead the supple flesh of her thighs with your palms, maybe even inch closer under her skirt to swipe your finger through the warm slick between her legs. God, anything, anything to feel her.

“So pliable… so obedient, offering all of yourself to me, letting me use you however I desire…” Her voice is low and husky in your ear, and wetness pools between your legs at her words.

She sighs again, and this time you feel her breath on your lips, making the urge to kiss her burn deep in your guts — but you don't dare act out of turn, keening subtly with furrowed eyebrows, hoping she can understand your pathetic pleas. Wednesday grants your wish, pulling you closer by the leash to press her plump lips against yours in a hot kiss, hands moving to rest on your shoulders, fingers flittering around and brushing the back of your neck. Tongues roam over teeth, and your breath turns gasping and eager.

When Wednesday's plush walls squeeze around the toy, she pulls away from your mouth, dark lipstick smeared, and moans, breathless, right by your ear, and the soft sound is so gorgeous you think you might cum just from hearing it. She’s devilish – you know she’s doing it on purpose, completely aware of what her timbre does to you. Her thighs rest on yours, pretty cunt swallowing your fake cock to the base, fluttering around the thick shaft, and she can barely keep herself together at the feeling of being so full of you, finally.

You want to grasp her thighs tightly, sink your nails into her skin and push her down onto the length roughly, but she just won't allow it.

Not today.

"I almost forgot what it feels like to be stretched by you," she murmurs, and you shiver at the low tone of her voice, body arching into hers, feeling the ravenette's soft tits press against yours, "So good... My willing little fucktoy.”

"Oh, 'Day," you pant, mouth hanging open and watering at the humiliating insult, "Wanna touch you so fucking bad, please."

Wednesday can’t deny you the pleasure – she tugs on the leash, pressing your face into her neck, and you nuzzle into it, inhaling deeply. You leave an open - mouthed kiss on the creamy flesh there, and Wednesday cranes her neck to expose more skin — you indulge, peppering kisses along her throbbing vein, relishing in her steamy breaths. Lips skim over her collarbones, over the swell of her perky breasts, and you don’t waste any more time to wrap your hot mouth around one of her nipples, tongue out to suckle and stimulate the girl further.

The ravenette leans her free hand against your knee behind her back, the cold touch on your warm skin making you shudder, her other hand still holding the leash as she slowly raises her hips until only the head is inside of her and lowers them back down, filling herself back up, a breathy moan escaping her lips.

Even though Wednesday's pupils are blown wide and her fringe messy, the tingling sparks of pleasure almost enough to make her swoon, she doesn't let go of her control — grabbing the back of your head, the girl above you tugs forcefully, your mouth leaving her breast with a wet pop, lips delightfully swollen and covered in spit.

"Enough of that." She murmurs, and raises her delicate hand to your mouth, pulling your bottom lip down and tapping against your teeth. You comply, allowing her entrance, and Wednesday smiles, watching you lap at her thumb, gently and languid, tongue swirling around the digit.

"Touch has to be earned. You'll have plenty of opportunities to do so yet."

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x reader smut #wednesday addams smut #wednesday x reader #wednesday x reader smut #wednesday smut #wednesday imagine #wednesday x female reader #wednesday x y/n #wednesday #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #wlw smut

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hunterwritings · 5 months

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𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐓!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 & 𝐁𝐈-𝐇𝐀𝐍

summary: bi-han is soft with you while you are pregnant warnings: pregnant!reader, soft!bi-han notes: i'm obsessed with bi-han and pregnant!reader (im literally a lesbian)

Your eyes were heavy as you lay in bed. You laid on your back with a hand on your protruding belly. You were about 8 months along in your pregnancy, and you most certainly couldn't hide it from anyone even if you wanted to.

"I had a feeling you were here." Bi-han's voice made your heavy eyelids open and see him closing the door behind him to your bedroom. A soft smile appears on your lips as you begin to sit up and rest your back on a pillow against the headboard. "No need to move." He says, you move anyway.

Bi-han has been with you through everything, and with your pregnancy, his protectiveness has increased tenfold. He wants to be around you 24/7 and doesn't want anyone else to be near you. It's not much different than his normal aura, but he treats you a much more fragile now that you are carrying his child. Bi-han has a difficult time talking about how much he cares and more so shows it by always being near you, bringing you anything you ask for, and things you don't ask for.

"Were you looking for me?" You ask as he sits on the edge of the bed next to you, slowly removing his mask.

"I was." He sets his mask down on the bed.

"Well, I finally took your advice and rested." You smirked.

"You should take my advice more often, I don't say it for no reason."

"I know." You smiled softly at him. He looked up at you and his gaze softened.

"I will make your dinner." He begins to stand.

"No, I'm not hungry yet." You shook your head as you grabbed his hand.

"You will be later, and you must eat enough for yourself and our child." He reminds you as you pull him towards you.

"I know, my love, I will. Just lay with me for a moment." Your eyes must've persuaded him because he groaned before sitting down next to you and pressing his back against the headboard. You tightly grip his cold hand as you interlace your fingers together. You reach your head up and press a soft kiss to his neck. He turns to you and kisses you on your lips, a relieved sigh falling from his nose.

"Are you mad at me?" You ask and he pulls away, almost looking offended.

"No. Why would you think that?" His eyebrows scrunched together as his eyes are locked on yours.

"I don't know it's just ― stupid." You chuckle as his expression remains serious.

"I want you to be in your best condition now that our child is almost here. No stress, no anxiousness or worry. Everything will be perfect for them." He reassures you as his expression softens. A wide smile plasters your face as you lean up to kiss him once again.

He pulls away from your lips and leans down to lie his head against your stomach, holding your belly with both his hands. You reach your hand up to hold his head softly as you play with his hair.

"I know what the baby will be." You smirked as he raises his head to look at you.

"How would you know that?"

"Mother's instinct." You smiled as he raised an eyebrow at you. "― and maybe some magic." You chuckle.

"It doesn't matter. They would be ours, and I would love them nonetheless." His head is back on your stomach, a small smile on his lips as he feels kicking.

You pet his head as you admire him, knowing this man would do absolutely anything for you and your child.

"It will be a boy, Bi-han."

He pulls his head up quickly as he looks at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "Truly?" He asks as you nod your head.

"A firstborn son, just as I am. He will be a strong leader." He softly caresses your stomach with the slightly of smiles on his lips, his eyes locked on your belly.

"Firstborn?" You jokingly asked.

"You don't wish to have a village of children?" He smirks as he raises his eyebrow at you. You laugh loudly and playfully hit him in the arm.

"Let us get through one child first and then perhaps we could have more." You shake your head as he scoots closer to you before capturing your lips in a sweet kiss.

#— hunterwritings #hunter speaks #mk1 #mk1 x reader #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #bi han #bi han x reader #bihan #bihan x reader #sub zero #sub zero x reader

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cinnnamongrl · 11 months

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sorority secrets- ellie williams (part 1)

pairing: college!ellie williams x fem!reader

summary: ellie williams has never been the 'sorority type'. but when she meets you, she realises maybe spending college as a part of eta alpha rho isn't so bad.

warnings: [18+ MDNI] explicit language, suggestive themes/language, mentions of dating men, alcohol, small mentions of homophobia. [this series will contain smut later on- warnings will be listed accordingly]

author’s note: i’m really excited for this series hehe it’s gonna be a few parts. hold on tight bc there is drama and hot lesbian sex to come (my two favourite things).

ellie williams doesn’t like sororities.

she likes savage starlight comics, she likes video games, she likes getting high and watching space videos, she likes when cats do that slow blink to show they’re comfy with you.

she does not like sororities.

and yet here she stands, in the main room of the eta alpha rho house, 5 minutes from meeting the other girls who had been accepted into the campus’s most well known sorority. dread was resting heavy in ellie’s stomach. she didn’t want to fucking be here. what even was a sorority anyway? forced friendship with a bunch of prissy straight girls? no thanks. she’ll pass. she had only one person to thank for this bullshit; ellie’s step-sister brittney. perfect brittney. tall, blonde, president of eta alpha rho brittney. if brittney wasn’t so… brittney, then ellie’s step-mom wouldn’t be blackmailing her into a college sorority, threatening to cut her off if she couldn’t show willingness to follow in your family’s footsteps and become a respectable eta alpha rho lady.

“can you try not to look like you’d rather be drowning in a pool of piss than be standing here?” brittney’s shrill voice broke ellie’s flow of thought. “no can do i’m afraid” brittney scoffed dramatically. “i don’t want you here either, you know. it was my mom’s idea, not mine. i think you’re perfectly suited to staying in your dorm all year with your weird stoner friends” she spat. “well then, we can agree on one thing” ellie shot her a sarcastic smile.

brittney strode towards the eta house door as the first few girls arrived. ellie looked down at her feet and then looked to her right. she walked over to the sofa, deciding she’d feel less awkward if she was sitting. less aware of her body now, she was able to form her (shallow, but oftentimes correct) initial thoughts on the girls she was going to be ‘sisters’ with for however long she survived this little group.

cute…

won’t last 2 weeks with brittney…

definitely films herself shotgunning white claw…

woah.

you walked into the room and a nervous tingle rested at your fingertips. the sound of excited giggles and shy greetings settled in the background and you allowed your eyes to scan where you stood; pink wallpaper, a framed photo of an older but still glamorous blonde woman, grand staircase, white sofa, girl sitting on said sofa. is she… part of the sorority too? didn’t see her during rush week. beat up converse, white vest and a short sleeved grey shirt, large tattoo covering her right forearm… pretty freckles. you still weren’t sure if this girl was even part of eta but something in you was pushing you to go and sit next to her.

“hey” you offered a smile as you sat beside the girl. “what’s your name?”

ellie sat up a little straighter and cleared her voice. “ellie.” be cool ellie. “what’s yours?”

you told her your name and she nodded. something about the way she was looking at you put you on edge a bit; it made your stomach feel fluttery and hands slightly damp.

“are you… in eta alpha rho too?” you asked. she chuckled “why, do i not look like i am?” you shook your head defensively “no no i just- you-“ “it’s fine. yeah i am. my sister is the president of the sorority, ‘s why i’m here”. you nodded in understanding.

you talked for a little while longer and to her frustration, ellie couldn’t figure you out. past ‘woah’ she couldn’t make many initial judgements. sure, you looked the part; pretty, smiley, white dress short enough to show off your body but not too short that grandma would disapprove. but from the short conversation ellie could not see why you’d be interested in eta alpha rho.

truthfully, you didn’t really know either. your friends back home had gushed about the concept of being a sorority sister, and your parents were… traditional. their daughter in a good college with good grades in a respectable sorority, dating a nice young man from the college’s fraternity was their dream. just like they had done. to be honest you weren’t really interested in sororities and frat boys, you wanted to stay focused on keeping up your perfect grades and securing your future; that’s what college was about after all. however if being part of eta meant getting into fun parties and having a group of girls who always have your back then why not?

“AHHH there you are!” a girls voice interrupted yours and ellie’s conversation and you looked up to see a girl standing over you with a wide smile. “brittney just told me I’m your sorority big sister! my name’s emilia. welcome to eta alpha rho” she put a gentle hand on your shoulder and then averted her gaze to ellie “ellie, good to see you again!” ellie gave her a smile back. “i want you to meet some of the other girls, c’mon” emilia took your hand and pulled you from the sofa into a crowd of girls.

a flash of annoyance shot through ellie at brittney’s friend taking you away. she didn’t really know why, you were probably going to end up becoming one of brittney’s bitchy friends who all pretend to like each other but fuck each others boyfriends behind their backs. she relaxed her body back into the sofa, and watched you. watched the lines appear around your eyes as you smiled, let her gaze travel down to your thighs, noticed your nails. red and short. gay? she promptly pushed the thought away. she let her eyes run back up to your face, your lips and oh fuck she’s looking at me- ellie averted her gaze to the vase on the table in front of her and mentally slapped herself. don’t be a perv, jeez. acting like you’ve never seen a fuckin pretty girl before.

~~~~

you laid on your dorm bed trying desperately to focus on the episode of yellowjackets playing from your laptop and keep your eyes from closing. the eta meet had drained you and although it wasn’t late you felt ready to call it a day. your phone buzzed and after a few seconds of debate you decided to pick it up.

you sat up straight and pushed your laptop away from your lap.

you locked your phone and the black screen revealed the somewhat silly image of you smiling in your reflection.

~~~~~~~~~~

“truth.”

the game had been going on for maybe 10 minutes, and ellie was losing the will to live. you hadn’t showed yet and ellie was 1 “i dare you to text your ex” away from getting up and leaving.

“where’s the craziest place you’ve ever done it?” a red haired girl asked the girl beside her. after a moment of pause, “denny’s parking lot”. a fit of giggles erupted but were quickly drowned out in ellie’s ears when you walked into the room and took a seat next to her.

emilia gave you a quick wave and smile and you returned it.

“late to your first eta social. that could get you kicked out you know” ellie spoke in a hushed voice. she saw the way your eyebrows raised in worry and instantly felt bad, “i’m joking”. “don’t do that” emphasising the ‘do’ with a playful nudge to her arm. “you missed loads. sasha had to show everyone her most recent text AND you’ll never guess what? chloe has a crush on brandon!” ellie waved her hands in faux excitement. you tried not to laugh at her mocking your new sorority sisters. “you’re an asshole”. she tilted her head slightly with a smirk, “yeah?” you managed back a small “mhm”.

“ellie! truth or dare?” a brunette girl spoke suddenly, bringing your attention back to the group. ellie leaned back, adjusting her position so she was manspreading slightly, and let out a small huff. that same fluttery feeling in your stomach made itself known again and you looked away from ellie. “uh. truth i guess?” the girl pondered for a few seconds. “what’s your favourite thing in a guy?” ellie raised her eyebrows for a moment before a little smirk you were sure only you caught appeared on her mouth. “his sister.” the room went silent. ellie didn’t seem to notice. “gross” brittney muttered. you looked up and caught her eye “not in like… a homophobic way.” she clarified. you lowered your head and subtly looked through your eyelashes at ellie, who was absentmindedly taking a sip of her beer. emilia, who was smiling, got up from her seat and gestured for you to follow her to the drinks table.

“sooo, having fun?” she asked you, grabbing a beer for herself. “yeah!” you offered back and looked around the table for something sweeter than beer and stronger than hard seltzer. “i know truth or dare is a bit juvenile but it’s an eta alpha rho tradition” she chuckled. “nothing wrong with a bit of childish fun” you smiled and she nodded back before squeezing your arm and going back to her seat. you stood before the drinks table feeling slightly awkward. ok let’s see… tequila? barf. maybe vodka? hm but what with. oh they have cranber- “you know, there’s capri-suns in the fridge if you’re not a liquor girl” ellie’s playful mocking broke your train of thought and made you jump slightly. you faced her with one hand on your hip and one resting on the table and narrowed your eyes in mock annoyance. while your brain tried to think of a witty response you noticed ellie’s eyes were taking in your body and it made your face heat up. you opened your mouth to respond and her eyes landed there and stayed on your lips. was she aware she was this unsubtle? “your beers with a 5% alcohol content aren’t too far off capri-suns” you retorted. she laughed and it made something leap in your chest. you turned back around to pour yourself a drink as ellie watched you.

after a few hours the games had died down and the scene in front of you showed most of the girls chatting or dancing to the dua lipa song that was playing from the tv. you’d been stuck in a conversation with a girl called alice for the past 40 minutes about her boyfriend who’s cheating on her but still loves her (she feels it in her heart), you were searching for a lull in the conversation to excuse yourself to the bathroom but so far alice hadn’t come up for air. that’s until an angel sent from heaven (who’s name escapes you) swoops in and sparks up a conversation with alice, leaving you with a clear exit plan. thank you nameless angel. unnoticed by alice or her friend you make your way to the bathroom across the hall, ‘you want me, i want you baby, my sugarboo…’ becoming quieter and quieter and your head ever so slightly fuzzy from the two drinks you’d been nursing throughout the evening. you reached the bathroom door and lifted your arm up higher than sober-you would find necessary to check it wasn’t occupied, and at the same time the door flew open making you lose your balance slightly and fall like an idiot into the poor person who’d just used the bathroom. “oh my god i am so so sorr-“ you looked up and saw ellie, looking down at you with an expression of amusement. you stepped back a little and she lifted her arm to rest against the door frame. you blamed the drink on the way that little display made you feel. “time to switch to capri-suns, sweetheart?” you pushed past her body into the bathroom “shut up about the capri-suns” she laughed and turned her body to face you as you checked your appearance in the sink mirror. “i’m serious. wouldn’t want you stumbling over like that and spilling something on that pretty dress of yours” she stepped forward a few inches and your heart rate picked up and you suddenly felt warm all over. even something about the way she indirectly complimented your outfit made you feel all weird and shy in a pathetically girlish way. what the fuck was wrong with you. keep. it. together. you could tell she’d had a little to drink from her lightly flushed cheeks.

“i won’t. ‘m not drunk” your eyes locked onto hers through her reflection in front of you. “yeah? then show me your eyes”. “what?” you questioned. she placed her hands on your hips and turned your body around to face her, your back now leaning against the sink. she was close. “you can always tell from the eyes,” she spoke low and her words took their time on her tongue “drunk people always get this hazy look,” her own eyes darted between each of yours “you know… heavy..” you swallowed, head swirling from definitely not the vodka and fuck since when was this bathroom so hot “.. sleepy” you opened your mouth and the breath you didn’t realise you were holding came out and her eyes were on your lips again. she brought her tatted arm out to hold the sink, caging in the left side of your body.

“oh!” both yours and ellie’s heads shot to the door, revealing emilia standing there. “sorry! was just coming to look for you,” she told you “wasn’t sure where you were.” she half-giggled. ellie cleared her throat and gave emilia a tight lipped smile and exited the bathroom. “glad you’re safe, i’ll uh- let you pee now.” she tittered and followed ellie back to the room, closing the bathroom door behind her. right, yeah. i came here to pee. the past few minutes left you with a little disorientation; you sat down and replayed your moment with ellie. moment? can you call it a moment? why does it even matter. what the fuck were you doing getting all woozy because a girl you only just met flirted with you for 3 seconds. you physically shook your head pretending that could rid you of the feelings you were experiencing. ellie was in your head and it scared you. that’s the thing about the guys you’d dated; sure it was fun to go on dates with them, sex could be… pretty enjoyable, and you could laugh and joke with the majority of them. but they never interrupted your focus. they never took up space in your brain when you weren’t in their presence, and they didn’t have the power to distract you from college or your grades. they were safe.

as you entered the room again emilia noticed you and spoke up “hey! i was just thinking: you came in late so you never got to play the game! soooo.. truth or dare?” she asked with a big smile. the moment had passed surely you thought, but you humoured her anyway. “dare?” “ok,” she put her finger to her bottom lip and looked up “, i dare you to tell us who you have a crush on” grown adults. we are grown adults. “isn’t that a truth?” you questioned. “oh shush. just answer” you thought of ellie. you were sure she was looking at you but didn’t dare to check. then you thought of college, your sorority sisters, your parents.

“chad.” there was a chad in your college right? emilia gasped “chad peters?” sure “yep” “AHH he is SO cute. head of the football team AND kappa upsilon sigma fraternity president as well, someone has standards” emilia jibed. you gave her a false smile. you could see brittney out of the corner of your eye frowning.

you were a fucking idiot. chad? you could almost feel ellie’s eyes on you, but you still couldn’t manage to turn around and look at her. now who was the asshole.

part 2

#ellie tlou 2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams smut #ellie x reader #ellie tlou

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pawnshopbleus · 5 months

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𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐁𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬

abby anderson x fem!reader

summary - twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. or in simpler terms, abby licks your pussy like it's a candy cane.

contains - smut, oral, fluff, no outbreak, mentions of gay awakening, a sprinkle of overstim, not beta read

author's note - this is my wife (real)

THE night started out really simple. You and Abby in matching pajamas cuddling on the couch. A small tartan blanket draped over the two of you as you watched the best Christmas movie in existence, How the Grinch Stole Christmas. It was a classic Christmas movie and your favorite.

It got to the point where Cindy Lou Who interviews multiple people about the Grinch. Your eyes stay transfixed on the screen when Martha May Whovier comes on screen. She was the reason why you found out you liked women. At the ripe age of six, you felt a thrumming in your chest every time that woman came on screen. With her exquisite outfits and beautiful expressions, everything about her screamed lesbian awakening.

Abby was bored. She loved spending time with her wife, but they weren’t really spending time. You were fully focused on the movie and you weren’t focusing on her. After a long day at the office, all she wanted was for her wife to dote on her like she usually did.

Was Abby jealous? No, there was no way that Abby was jealous of a fictional character that subsequently led her wife to her. No way…

Okay so maybe Abby was a little jealous, but she loved you and wanted to be with you. If she could mend your two bodies together forever, she would.

Mend your bodies together…Now, that’s something she could do.

Abby started by kissing your cheek, watching as you melted into her embrace. Your focus wasn’t completely on her though. Your eyes were still glued onto the screen. Now, that just wouldn’t do. She took your chin in between her fingers and kissed you on the lips. The kiss was soft and warm, like the hot chocolate the two of you made earlier. She could still taste the faint chocolate flavor on your lips.

“Abby, what are you doing?” you whispered as you gently pulled away from the kiss.

She didn’t answer you. She simply asked, “want me to stop?”

You shook your head. You didn’t want her to stop in the first place. Her strong arms caged you under her. The couch wasn’t big enough for the two of you, which meant that Abby had to settle in between your legs. Abby looked down at you, causing soft blonde waves to form around you.

She pressed her lips against yours again, relishing in the way your lips felt against hers. You were her wife: so soft, so pretty, so perfect.

She trailed her lips along your cheek, down your neck, and settled on the fabric draped on your chest. The matching pajamas were cute, but they were obstructing the view of her beautiful wife, and that just would not do.

Sensing some hesitation, you begin to undo the buttons on the front of your pajamas. Abby watches as your fingers slowly move to unhook each button. Her eyes flick up to your face and she sees the small smirk painted on your lips.

She smiles softly at you, relishing in the fact that this was her life. After her father died, she gave up on all hopes of finding “the one” and focused on her work. Now, four years later, here she was. Looking down at the woman she loved while some Christmas movie was playing in the background.

You tossed your top to the side, leaving the top half of your body in nothing but a plain white bra. The fat of your boobs spilled out of your bra. Abby’s hands trailed along your collarbones, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Abby asked. No matter how eager you seemed right now, she always wanted to make sure that this is what you want. She needed you to know that even if you gave consent right now, you can always back out later on. “Yes,” you breathe.

Abby’s strong hands kneaded the fat of your boobs, slowly sliding your bra down your chest. Your boobs bounced out of your bra as Abby unhooked them. Your bra found its place on the floor next to your top that you had forgone earlier in the evening.

The cold December air filled the living room and caused a chill to run down your spine. The fire Abby lit earlier did nothing to warm you up. Abby’s fingers teased around your sensitive nipples already hard from the cool air. Abby’s mouth encased your nipple, the heat of her mouth causing you to arch your back. She switched from one to the other, giving each of your tits the same love.

Her hands were warm now, each of them trailing up and down the sides of your body. They traced the outlines of your body. One hand traced the expanse of your stomach all the way down to the waistband of your pants. Abby’s hand teased the skin of your hips. She traced shapes on them as she kissed her way down to the front of your pajama pants.

Abby looked up at you for a few seconds, giving you time to rethink your decision. You nodded your head, giving her the okay to do whatever she wanted to you. Tonight and every night, you were hers to love extensively.

With that, she shimmies your pajama pants down your legs. Her strong hands now caress the soft flesh of your thighs. She uses this opportunity to slowly part your legs, relishing in the fact that you're wearing red underwear. Simple and festive, but also sexy and tempting. Abby kisses the exposed skin on the inside of your thigh. Her fingers trace the waistband of your underwear, teasing you. It gets to the point where you’ve become impatient. You buck your hips, causing Abby to pull her head away. Her eyes narrowed at you as you smiled innocently at her.

“Stop being a brat,” she huffs.

You raise your brow, challenging her demand. “Stop teasing,” you reply.

Abby shakes her head in disbelief. She isn’t mad, she’s more amused at your defiance. She resumes her place at your center, this time taking off your underwear in one swift move. Now, you’re completely bare. The cold air does nothing to quell your shivers, but when Abby’s mouth finds its place on your sensitive clit all is forgotten.

She starts off slow, savoring the way you taste. No matter how many times she goes down on you, she’ll never get tired of your taste. It’s utterly feminine: soft, and warm. It almost tastes like home.

Abby traces circles along your clit with her tongue. She watches as your breathing becomes ragged, the way your chest rises and falls. You're so lost in the pleasure that you barely notice that Martha May is still on screen, this time she’s dressed in the Holiday Cheermeister outfit - your favorite. Abby’s eyes scan the rest of your body. The lights on the Christmas tree reflect off of your skin and create an ethereal glow around you. Once again, Abby can’t believe that you are real. In her eyes, you were a goddess: so beautiful, so brave, so confident. Her, a measly mortal unworthy of your love.

Back in reality, Abby’s index fingers teased your entrance. Already wet from her incessant lapping at your clit, your insides welcomed Abby with little protest. Abby stopped her lapping at your clit for you to completely feel her fingers inside of you. They brushed up against your G-spot, causing you to let out a silent moan.

Your hands found solace on your breasts, pinching and kneading them like they were dough. Abby continued pumping her fingers in and out while also tracing circles on your clit. You were close, you could feel it, and so could Abby. Your nostrils flared as you tried to hold it for as long as you could. You wanted this to last forever, but all good things come to an end.

Your entire body tensed as your pussy spasmed, releasing your juices everywhere. Abby’s fingers traced light circles around your clit, guiding you through your orgasm. Your hips twitched from overstimulation, and Abby slowly took her hand off your pussy.

Abby licked her fingers clean, tasting all of your essence. You watched as she did so. Her eyes closed in delight at the taste of you on her tongue.

Abby left you alone for a second, but only a second as she came back with a small piece of cloth and a water bottle. She made you drink the water as she cleaned you up. Your sensitive pussy was coated in your arousal. “Damn girl, you made a mess,” Abby smirked as she threw the piece of cloth on the floor. Speaking of, she helped you redress in your pajamas.

The two of you continued the night as planned. Both of you on the couch, blanket on top of you, and your favorite Christmas movie. You couldn’t have asked Santa for anything better.

#abby anderson tlou2 #abby x reader #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson smut #lesbian reader #lesbian #christmas

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pigeonpeach · 5 months

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Arlecchino’s Husbandry

Cw: Fem reader, implied nsfw, manipulation, motherhood. Lesbians.

Summary: You were hired to take care of the younger orphans but ended up becoming a mother-figure to them and also winning the heart of their father figure

Edit: i did this without proofread so sorry for any mistakes

To say childcare is easy is a lie. Even in the House of Hearth where their children are disciplined to become the perfect soldiers and agents are they still difficult at times. You were hired as a caretaker. Meant only to help with the domestic side of things, cleaning, laundry, bathing, and emotional stuff. The last part wasn’t in your job description but something you took upon yourself. You may not be a mother yourself, but maternal instincts were triggered when you saw the two twins added into the orphanage. Lynette and Lyney, the youngest currently were such adorable and loving children. It broke your heart to think how they must’ve ended up here. And Lynette especially, her avoidance and clear uncomfortable behaviors around older males painted a unpleasant picture that tugged at your heart strings. All the kids here had tragic stories to tell, but many had stopped crying for their mothers or simply stopped crying at all. You knew you couldn’t spoil them so you decided to take small steps. You read them bedtime stories first. You explained it to your colleagues as helping them learn to read early on so they wouldnt get the wrong idea. You picked pleasant stories. The children were a bit confused at first but they grew to love it. And overtime, you. You became a source of protection in their eyes. If a kid felt bullied by others they ran to you because you would hold them sweetly and whisper assurances. You were still good at disciplining them yes, but you werent as harsh as the others they’d known.

Lynette especially took fondness to you. You didn’t force her to hug or any physical affection, you offered her sweets as rewards and to help her feel more calm. She took a liking to you clearly, as in her free time she and her brother would follow you around asking if you needed help. It became routine that tje children themselves would help your chores when they had free time. They prepared the clotheslines and washed their dishes,they wanted to make your job easy so they’d stay. You were quite proud of this, tje kids clearly adored you. Although you were worried what the Knave would assume or think if she saw how soft you were to them.

But You didn’t know that when she did catch sight of her that her gaze softened. Arlecchino had never craved for love or affection in years, but seeing you sat on a rocking chair with her children gathered around made her infatuated with you. You had such a soft presence, one that could melt ice cold hearts and dry tears. Your softness actually helped the children be more loyal unbeknownst to you. They wanted to make you proud and protect the home you fostered. Her affections however were noticed by the kids. Especially when she heard one referring to you as “mother”. If she was their father and you their mother, then you would be hers wouldn’t you? That idea wasn’t unpleasant but rather addictive. So she decided to become more acquainted with you. She praised you for your efforts and even offered assistance.

For the children they became even more attached, you bought a more fatherly side to their father. They noticed she became less agitated or more calm around you. So they wanted you stay, they wanted you to marry her actually so you could legally be their mother as well. With Arlecchino’s guidance they told flattering tales of their father, how much she seemed to like you. How perfectly you two would be.

Apart of you was hesitant. Arlecchino is a harbinger afterall. And you are only a low lying underling who has no combat skills whatsoever. But the way she raises your palm to her lips to greet you, the way she calls you into her office very often to just spend time with you, how she buys you your favorite teas or coffees, your favorite foods or treats, its started to make you flustered. She’s grown more bold the less resistance you show, she sometimes plays with your hair making you blush, sometimes her nails trace gently over your skin. But her eyes, although unhuman, they hold such devotion and adoration that it’s addictive. How can one not fall in love when they look at you with such a look?

So you accepted her proposal, to be her wife. To be the mother of her many children. Something celebrated within the house of Hearth. Your job did change, you had more authority as a manager of sorts rather than a domestic servant. You still spent time with the kids however. You still let them sit in your lap or nap on you. But now when Alrecchino comes back from missions or meetings she immediately heads to you to greet you. Her devotion hasn’t stopped or changed. She holds you close and presses her head to your neck as she inhales your scent. Leaving a kiss on your collar and a shiver down your spine. Her hands trace your body just to feel your soft unmarked skin. And when she gives a certain look you know you’ll struggle to get out of bed the next day. Alrecchino is a devoted woman after all. She may not be the best father ever but she is certainly a good and devoted lover.

#genshin imagines #arlechinno genshin #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #arlecchino #wlw yearning #domestic fluff #ifuckinglovethiswomansomuch

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total-dxmure · 1 year

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✦ MARLEY AND ME →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER THREE

pairing: modern!ellie williams x single mom!reader

summary: you’re a single mom just doing the best that she can to make ends meet. ellie can’t help but think that you're the kindest, most beautiful girl that she’s ever met. compared to taking care a little girl that's in her terrible twos, coming to terms with the fact that you’re a lesbian is a walk in the park. awkward first encounters, ellie’s broken gay-dar, and her overwhelming urge to take care of the care-giver. . . the road to domesticity is a long one, but it’s well worth the pining that it takes to get there.

warnings: THERE IS SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER MDNI!!! fingering (r receiving), exhibitionism if you squint, eventual substance use, no use of y/n (you have nicknames/petnames), the reader is marley’s biological mother, talk of coming to terms with ones sexuality, mention of a shitty baby daddy ( though there is no co-parenting between them), ellie is a total girl mom, lots and lots of fluff, ellie is an anxious dork in this fic, reader is broke but happy, ellie takes pride in being a provider, this is going to be a multi-part fic, ellie is an absolute simp for the reader since chapter one and will remain her #1 fan.

⬶ previous chapter | next chapter ⤅

The female sat in a heap on the floor, staring intently into the oven. It was almost as though she was willing the cake to rise, trying as hard as she could to convince the damn thing to do what it was supposed to do. She’d already checked the recipe numerous times, trying to see where she might have messed up. Ellie regretted not just doing what Jesse had told her to do. Bringing you some flowers would be better than showing up on your doorstep with an inedible dessert.

“It’s not fucking rising.” She cursed to herself, grabbing a clump of her hair and giving it a sharp tug.

Dirty dishes littered her kitchen counters, batter still splattered on one of her cabinets from the earlier electric mixer mishap. The woman could have easily picked up a store bought cake when she was at the grocery store getting the stupid ingredients, but she had been dumb enough to think that something homemade would taste better. It would seem that the college student enjoyed making her life harder, because on top of what seemed like an impossible workload from her professors, she’d run straight home from her classes, hell bent on making the best strawberry shortcake you and Marley had ever tasted. She’d seen the strawberries in your shopping cart when she had run into you at the grocery store earlier and thought it would be perfect. Only. . . the rubbery cake that didn’t appear to be getting any fluffier was far from perfect.

She’d done everything that the recipe had called for. You would think that doing something as easy as baking a sponge cake would be a walk in the park for someone that was majoring in astrophysics.

The cherry on top was the fact that she only had an hour to get ready before she’d have to leave her house. Which meant that she didn’t have enough time to make another stupid dessert. She turned off her oven with a defeated grunt, angrily stomping over to her fridge to see if she had anything.

It was empty, just like she knew it would be. She doubted that you would appreciate it if she brought over a frozen vegetarian lasagna, but that was all that she had left. Ellie had run out of options.

The phone rang three times before the man on the other end picked up.

“Whatcha want, girl?” Joel’s southern twang sounded on the other line.

Her shoulders instinctively slouched, her rapid heart rate calming ever so slightly.

“Joel. . . do you know how to make a sponge cake?” She asked, opening up a cabinet so that she could start grabbing for the ingredients that she had already put away.

“A sponge cake?” He questioned. She could hear rustling on the other end, then the familiar sound of his reading glasses being placed down onto a flat surface.

“I’m having dinner with a friend, and I wanted to bring dessert.” She was mumbling now, she knew that. Ellie could just imagine the aging man squinting his eyes, pressing the phone harder up against his ear so that he could hear her better.

“Jesse doesn’t care if you bake him a damn cake or not.”

She should have been offended that he thought that her only friend was Jesse. . . but he wasn’t exactly wrong about that. She huffed, rolling her eyes before leaning her hip up against the counter.

“It’s not for Jesse. I’m hanging out with someone else.” She didn’t feel like telling him the entire story of how she had met you, nor did she think that he was ready to hear about Marley.

“Uh- alright. You got a pen, kiddo?”

The woman’s heart was pounding as she climbed the steps up to the small house. She’d driven through the neighborhood quite a lot over the last four years, but would rather die than admit to you that her plug just so happened to live just a few houses down. The bag felt heavy in her hand, embarrassment weighing heavy on her mind as she thought about the fact that she’d have to assemble the fruit and whipped cream after dinner, seeing as the damn cake was still cooling. If there was one thing she could count on Joel to get right every time, it was cooking something delicious. She’d seen the man make a drool worthy meal out of little more than a can of Chef Boyardee, a few onions and fresh parmesan.

Ellie wasn’t Joel though, and there was a good chance that you’d bite into an eggshell. She’d tried her best to fish them out of the batter, but she was positive that she missed a few. She debated just leaving the dessert in her car.

The woman’s feet faltered on the porch, the old wood creaking underneath her. The home was small, but it was obvious that you’d tried to make it nice. Freshly planted flowers were in a few pots right by the screen door. Ellie could imagine Marley’s dirty little palms stuck elbow deep into the pots, wanting nothing more than to help you. Her lips twitched upwards into a smile before she could even help it, because she could hear your voice behind that door.

“Marley Mae! Get your cute little booty over here!” A loud little squeal echoed around the house, followed by a giggle that would even make a weathered soldier’s heart melt.

The woman looked over her outfit one last time, then brushed her free hand over her lips to make sure she hadn’t nervously chewed all of the chapstick off of them. She was wearing the A-Ha band shirt that Jesse had given her last Christmas, and had tucked it into a pair of high waisted trousers. It was stylish without making her look like a try-hard. She held the screen door open with the heel of her boot so that she could knock on the brightly painted door.

Red. It was a nice color too.

You cursed under your breath as you heard the knock, your heart racing as you realized that your daughter was running around the living room with the shirt that you had neatly laid out to wear for tonight. Your nervous brain malfunctioned though- it must have- because you called out to her.

“It’s open!” You wished that you could suck the words right back into your mouth, because there you were, standing right in front of the opening door, in nothing but a lacy blue bra.

She was looking down at the small step up, a few strands of auburn hair falling into her face. She was wearing a pair of high waisted mens dress pants, and the sleeves of her band shirt was cuffed at the sleeves, which showed off her toned arms.

If your brain was malfunctioning before. . . now it has completely shut down.

Marley didn’t seem to care about the visitor. The little girl continued to run around, your freshly washed off-the shoulder top wrinkled in her hands as she ran in circles around the living room. She wasn’t quite sure what she was doing, so you couldn’t be angry. You’d reacted so strongly to her pulling the shirt off of the bed, which was your mistake. She thought it was funny when you chased her, and so you were the idiot for acting on your panicked impulses.

So here you were, completely topless and standing directly in front of Ellie, who still hadn’t noticed your partial nakedness seeing as she was setting the bag she was holding down by the front door. Was she too nervous to look at you? Or. . . was she usually this clueless about her surroundings?

“I was kinda scared that I’d driven to the wrong house-” Her eyes fell on the toddler running around with a shirt in her hands first, her eyebrows knitting in confusion. You could see her lips pull up into a mischievous smile, the understanding that the little girl was doing something that she wasn’t supposed to finally dawning on her.

Then she looked up at you, that same smile still pulling up at her lips and the corners of her bright green eyes.

But then she nearly died.

Both physically and mentally.

“Holy shi-” She stumbled back, throwing her arm behind her so that she could give you some privacy.

Because you were standing in front of her. In nothing but jeans and a bra. . .

And even calling that thing a bra was being too kind. The damned thing was merely pretty wire, polkadot mesh, and some lace. Ellie didn’t have to lay in bed and imagine what your breasts looked like. Not anymore. She’d gotten a full view of them along with your perfectly perky nipples, which was probably due to the box-fan you had turned on in the living room.

Ellie missed the panicked look on your face. She missed whatever words rushed past your lips, because she was too busy staring at your chest. You lurched forwards for her, and all the poor woman could do was stare at the way they bounced.

“Ellie, watch your arm!” You were stumbling forward, trying to yank her away from the old screen door.

You’d fallen victim to the loose metal grate too many times to count. The worst you’d gotten were a few cuts on your fingers that burned like a bitch. The fleshy part of Ellie’s forearm was headed straight for it though.

Ellie stumbled onto the porch, the terrible burning sensation in her arm not even registering.

“I-I’m so sorry,” She rasped out, eyes wide. Her cheeks were bright red all the way up to her ears.

Blood was dripping down to her fingers and splattering on the wooden deck, but she couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in her ears. Her whole body felt feverish, so the fresh blood went completely unnoticed.

You were covering up your chest with one hand as you hurried out onto the porch after her, using your free arm to grab her and haul her blabbering form inside.

“I-I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to. . . I think you have the wrong idea about me. Honest, I was going to tell you eventually, but I-” Ellie wasn’t straight, and it would be unfair of her to ogle at you under false pretenses.

It was hard to say anything though when you were rushing her into the kitchen. Ellie could barely keep up with you, stumbling a bit. Your eyes were wide for some reason. Maybe you were understanding where all of this was going. Maybe you were religiously straight, and she’d just ruined any possibility of a friendship. Had you noticed her staring? Holy fuck, of course you did.

“I’m a lesbian-” “You’re bleeding all over the place!”

You both went silent, staring at each other with wide eyes. Ellie’s gaze on your face faltered, and slowly she looked down at her arm, where you were currently keeping a firm grip. Your knuckles were practically white you were holding her so tightly. The athletic woman could understand why now. She wasn’t just bleeding but bleeding.

She was used to injuring herself. Ellie and Joel were outdoorsy people. She grew up learning to fish, hunt, and live off of the land. Which meant she had fallen out of a million trees, stabbed herself a thousand times, and has had more near death experiences than she’d care to admit. Her survival training should kick in. . . but it wasn’t.

Because your boobs were still directly in her face.

Honestly, there was no other way she’d rather die. It would take her a few hours to bleed to death from a cut like this, even if she had sliced clean through a vein. Maybe, if she were lucky, you’d feel bad for her and take off the pants too. She wondered for a second whether you were wearing a matching pair of panties.

‘Please God- if you exist- I hope she is wearing matching panties. I’ll make up for every rotten thing I’ve ever done if I could just. . .’

“Hospital.” You croaked, your lips going pale.

Ellie finally noticed the vein in your throat pounding away. Your eyes were beginning to well up with tears too. The woman swallowed thickly and painfully tore her attention off of your chest.

“I’m okay. I’m not in any pain. Let me see if I can wrap it up and stop the bleeding. I’ll drive myself to the hospital if I need to.” Her voice was steady. Her profusely bleeding wound was the only thing she felt certain and safe about in this situation.

“Don’t be stupid, Ellie,” You shook your head quickly, disappearing out of the kitchen. “I’m taking Marley to my mom’s house! Give me two minutes!” You sounded like you were on the opposite side of the house.

The front door opened and closed before Ellie could protest. All she could do was stand over the sink, her shaky hand reaching for paper towels in an attempt to wipe up what looked to be a murder scene on the tiled floor. She was bleeding all in your sink too, the smell of iron thick in the air. The blood wasn’t clotting, and it looked nowhere close to stopping. She twisted her forearm around, wincing when she finally noticed the cut. It was clean- deep. If you had the supplies at home, she could just stitch herself up here. . . but Ellie had a feeling that she’d terrify you if she tried that.

So. . . the hospital was the only choice.

You’d tossed a shirt over your head so quickly that you hadn’t even seen what it was. Your red converse slapped against the pavement as you ran across the street, Marley bouncing on your hip, babbling excitedly in your ear. You silently thanked the heavens that your daughter was a habitually happy baby and wasn’t feeding off of your anxiety.

You were nearly in tears by the time that you made it to your mother’s house. She answered the door almost immediately, her hair held up with chopsticks atop her head. She smiled sweetly at Marley, who held her arms open for her grandmother.

“What on earth is going on, baby-” She paused as she noticed the blood on your hands. “W-What. . .”

You shook your head, already stepping off of the porch. “I-It’s not mine. My friend accidentally sliced her arm open. I have to take her to the hospital. Can you watch Marley for me? Just until I get home.”

You knew your mother would agree. You were already running down the street, her hurried “of course” getting lost in the wind that breezed by your ears. Your hair was a mess, your cheeks felt hot, and you knew that you were crying.

Because of course you were.

Tonight was ruined, and it was all your fault. The pot roast that you had put on early this morning tasted perfect, the house was spotless, and Marley had actually gone down today for her two o’clock nap. This dinner had been terribly important to you. It wasn’t until you were stumbling up the steps of your own porch that you finally realized how much weight you’d put on this stupid little get together.

Ellie might not even be attracted to you. You could be reading the situation all wrong, but you were hoping that you could have a chance at love. Didn’t you deserve it? You tried and you tried for everyone else aside from yourself, and this was the first time you’d done something selfish in years.

The girl of your dreams was standing in your kitchen, practically gushing blood in your stainless steel sink, and you’d blown your chance at happiness. Your version of perfect was never going to be enough for anyone. Because you were broke with little to no education. . . and a child that couldn’t even spell her own name yet.

You sniffled, wiping at your eyes as you rounded the corner.

“Remind me to fix that door the next time I’m here.” Ellie wasn’t looking at you, which you were thankful for. She was too busy holding a wad of paper towels against the wound.

Your heart squeezed uncomfortably in your chest.

Next time. There was going to be a “next time”.

Ellie followed your gentle guidance out to your car, begrudgingly getting in the passenger seat. She felt guilty that you had to drive her all the way into town. That. . . and the fact that she probably traumatized your child, what with all the blood. You fumbled with the radio, trying to find a station that she might like.

“I like this song.” Ellie said calmly, and what do you know. . . your hand dropped back into your lap.

The car plummeted into silence, Depeche Mode playing softly over the speakers as she watched the sun finally drop behind the horizon, bathing the two of you in a blue twilight glow. Ellie was very familiar with Jackson.

It would be at least twenty minutes until you made it to the nearest Urgent Care. So she leaned back in the seat and tightened her grip on her arm.

“Can I see you again after this? Or. . . I understand if what I said earlier makes you uncomfortable.” Your silence was making her feel on edge.

Ellie had single handedly ruined dinner. She had a talent for ruining things, actually. Ellie Williams was the kind of person that should live away from other people. All she needed was a backpack and a hunting knife, and she’d feel safe. Safer than she would in a neighborhood full of people, really. Wild animals, deadly or not, were predictable. Bears and wolves attack, so you’ve gotta intimidate them. If all else fails, aim for the head.

Ellie couldn’t read you, and that scared her. Terrified her actually, because for some reason she was certain that being turned down by you would break her significantly more than any other rejection ever had. It would be the kind of pain that kept you in bed for days, overthinking every decision that had gotten you to that point. She didn’t want to be old and alone, thinking about the girl that she’d liked in her youth. It pained Ellie to even think about forgetting the exact color of your eyes, or the natural softness that your voice possessed.

Ellie didn’t know you well enough to be in love with you yet. . . but give her a few weeks, and she knew that she’d be a goner.

It wasn’t that you were the only person available. You weren’t in her friend group, so dating you wasn’t just what should be the natural progression of things. This wasn’t a small campus crush doomed to fail. Ellie hadn’t stopped thinking about you ever since you’d first walked into Tommy’s restaurant.

“Do you think I’m homophobic or something?” You spoke up, shooting her a small smile from where you sat.

“I mean. . . we live in Wyoming.” Ellie trailed off, but her lips turned up as you began to laugh.

“Yeah, you do have a point there.” Your shoulders began to slouch, an audible sigh of relief escaping you. “I was scared you wouldn’t want to see me again after this.” You admitted.

Ellie didn’t strike you as the type of person that liked to feel vulnerable, so you owed her some embarrassing truths. Even if it ended up mortifying you.

“I’ve had at least ten concussions in my life. Fifteen stitches is child's play.” She used the hand that wasn’t currently leaking blood to wave your worry off, sinking deeper into the old seat of your car. “Uh-” She sat up quickly, turning her head to look at the road that you’d just driven past.

“I think we should have made that turn-” “I’m a lesbian.”

Ellie’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, her neck nearly popping with the force that she used to look at your face. You’d sucked your bottom lip in between your teeth nervously, but your eyes were locked on the road.

“I know a shortcut. Relax, I’m not kidnapping you.” You added, turning onto a dirt road that she’d never seen before.

The hand that you had resting on your thigh was beginning to shake. You balled it into a tight fist, hoping she hadn’t noticed. That was the first time you’d ever said it outloud. Ellie was the first person you’d ever told about your sexuality, and you felt. . . liberated. And scared shitless.

“I’m not exactly too focused on the creepy backroads right now.” She mumbled, still staring at you.

The buttons on your dashboard were casting all sorts of shadows on your lovely face. Your eyelashes were so thick, and she was suddenly very aware of the fact that you’d put on makeup for her.

And oh god.

She really didn’t have a gaydar, because holy shit this was a date. She should have listened to Jesse and gotten you flowers. She should have put more effort into her appearance- slapped some clear mascara on at the very least.

If she wasn’t bleeding all over the white dish towel that you had wrapped around her arm, then she would have told you to put your car in park. The urge to kiss you was hurting her more than the gaping wound did. She bounced her leg, trying to distract herself from the aching need that was gnawing at the pit of her stomach.

“I mean. . . I’ve never been with a woman before, but all I know is that I’ve never liked guys. Not even a little bit.” You were spilling your guts now, and you couldn’t even stop it.

You’d been waiting to tell someone all of this since middle school. You were practically shaking like a leaf. It felt good to say all of it though, even if you were setting yourself up to get hurt.

Ellie thought back to what Jesse had said about lesbians having children. Never once had Ellie felt the need to force herself to sleep with a man to appear normal. Instead she just. . . hadn’t shown any interest in anyone. She was sure that Joel thought that she was asexual when she was growing up.

You. . . you had done something that had felt wrong to you, just so that others wouldn’t see you differently. Ellie wasn’t the type to get emotional, but she found her eyes getting a bit misty. Her small nose wrinkled a bit as she tried to fight the feeling.

“You’ve never even kissed a woman?” Ellie asked, finally recognizing the road that they were on. They were close to the emergency room. Too close, actually. She was hoping for a few more moments alone with you.

“No.” You were mortified to admit it, but you needed to.

You pulled into the parking lot and threw the car into park. That was enough embarrassment for one day. The sooner you could get her seen by a doctor, the sooner you could silently begin to come up with a plan to save tonight.

“How ‘bout I kiss you,” Her warm breath was on your cheek. You let out a small gasp and turned your head, eyes widening as you realized that she was leaning over the armrest, her hand gripping the back of your seat. “And then you’ll know for sure. It’s just a test.”

If God existed, Ellie knew that her being gay wasn’t the reason she’d for sure be sent to hell. She’d physically hurt a lot of people. She’d been expelled from just about every school she’d ever been in. For a while there, she and Joel were moving state to state for what felt like every school semester. She was sharp tongued and knew how to really lash out at others. She had two very capable, very dangerous hands. . . and she hadn’t been afraid to use them.

And here she was, using your own inexperience as a way to kiss you. She was desperate though. No matter how fucked up this tactic was, she would never come to regret it. You could rip her heart straight out of her chest for all she cared.

Ellie wanted you in every conceivable way.

She’d be your best friend if that was the only thing you needed from her. She’d fuck you every day of the week until you finally got bored of her and called her away. She’d wake up early just to make those pancakes your daughter loved in the mornings. . . All you had to do was say the word.

She was yours.

“What if,” Ellie could feel your breath fan over her lips. Her eyes fluttered, but she somehow managed to keep them open. “What if you don’t like it?”

“I will.” Ellie nodded gently, wishing she had two good hands to hold you with.

You were the one to press your lips to hers. You knew what you were doing, which partially shattered her heart into a thousand tiny pieces. Ellie wanted to be selfish with you. She wanted to be your first everything. She silently cursed whoever had come before her, but her brain shut off completely when she felt your hand move up to cup her cheek. The ear ringing from earlier resumed in full force the second your lips began moving against hers, your warm tongue brushing against her lower lip. Her grip on the back of your seat loosened, and instead she moved it to the base of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer to her.

She was in control of herself. She had kept the fact that the two of you were in a very public parking lot in mind.

Until the second you sighed into her open mouth. Game over. She was ruined.

Utterly ruined.

Her bloody hand reached over and yanked the key out of the ignition, fumbling to place it on the center console before she started pulling you over arm rest. She needed the weight of you on her lap. She needed pressure- sensation. She needed. She needed. She needed.

“How tinted are your windows?” She mumbled against your lips, her strong hands gripping your thighs so that she could help you straddle her.

You’d never actually been turned on by any of your sexual partners in the past. You usually just grinned and beared it, then laid awake at night wondering why on earth you weren’t like other girls.

All the two of you had done was make out, and your legs were already quivering. You were dripping wet, and was far too distracted by Ellie’s very pink, very kissed lips to think about the fact that you were wearing jeans.

“T-They’re legal, if that’s what you’re asking.” You could barely think, your hands already tangling back into Ellie’s hair.

She didn’t have time to whine out a complaint, because you were so pliant in her hands. You were this weak little mewling thing on top of her, and all she could do was grip onto you. Had either of you actually known pleasure before? Because Ellie was positive she’d never felt anything like this. She wasn’t even being touched, but she was certain that she could climax just like this.

Her hands gripped your waist, then brushed up your stomach. She didn’t ask for permission, which she’d apologize relentlessly for later. You weren’t stopping her though.

If anything, you were the one that had started the touching. You were currently stretching out the neck of her t-shirt, one hand gripping her chin and the other one spread out on her back, playing with the straps of her sports bra. You gasped into her mouth again as Ellie’s hand finally made contact with your breast. She remembered the way you looked in that bra earlier. Remembered how your tits had bounced- looked like they were practically going to burst over the thin bit of fabric-

“Oh, fuck.” Ellie cursed, hips moving upwards before she could calm herself.

“Doctor-” Your voice came out in a desperate little whine, and Ellie’s eyes rolled to the back of her head, her hips lifting up against yours again, the friction practically causing her to jump straight out of her skin.

“I’m- I’m not bleeding as bad anymore. Please. Please.” Ellie was pushing your bra up and over your breasts, lifting your shirt up with her bloody hand just so that she could look.

She’d fuck you right there in the back of the hospital parking lot. She’d never wanted anyone this badly before. This was just as new to her as it was for you. This felt. . . this all felt different.

Because you were touching her back. You weren’t some straight girl looking to turn a boy on by telling him that you’d been with a lesbian before.

You were gay, and you were interested in her. Ellie felt like she had died and gone to heaven, because this was everything that she’d ever wanted. . . minus the wound.

It was her begging that had you leaning back on your calves, untucking her shirt so roughly that she questioned whether or not the two of you would have to fight for dominance. She tossed her shirt into the drivers side seat, smiling when your lips were back on hers the second she was topless.

Your hands were cold when you pushed them underneath the tight fabric of her sports bra. You took advantage of that, feeling her nipples hardening against your palms. Her muscles tightened in her shoulders as you pinched them between your pointer and middle fingers, gripping the small breasts a little tighter, wanting to feel the weight of them.

She moaned against your lips, eyes clenching shut so hard that fireworks exploded behind her lids.

It was too late now.

Ellie was on a mission to make you cum.

She felt guilty that the two of you hadn’t even been on a first official date yet, and here she was, planning to finger fuck you in a parking lot- but could anyone really blame her?

“I’m gonna fuck you,” Ellie pulled away from your lips, instantly recognizing that this wasn’t her asking for consent. She flinched, shaking her head gently. “Is that okay?” She rephrased it, moving a hand down to the waistband of your jeans. She gave it a gentle tug, letting you know that she was serious. She couldn’t stop herself.

“Y-Your arm, Ellie.” You moved to grab her injured forearm, but she gripped your wrist before you could.

“Let’s say I stop now. Even if we did that, I won’t get seen for another hour by a doctor. I’m going to sit there and think about this,” She cupped your sex in her hand, the tips of her fingers brushing over your clothed entrance. “The entire time. I’ll stop if you climb out, but if we stay in here any longer I’m not going to be able to control myself.”

You bit your bottom lip again, your eyes narrowing in concern. Ellie wasn’t bleeding as badly as she was before, but she for sure needed a few stitches. She didn’t appear to be in any pain though. If anything, she seemed more focused on you. You didn’t want to kill the moment, but shouldn’t you-

Ellie began fidgeting with the top button on your jeans, and that was all it took. You wordlessly climbed into the backseat, smiling widely as you heard her scrambling to follow you.

You thanked all that was holy that you’d taken Marley’s car seat out earlier that morning to give to your mother since she was watching her tomorrow. You had the entire backseat, and despite the fact that the two of you were still out in the open, you felt a little more hidden now that the two of you were ducked down.

Ellie was already taking full advantage of the added bit of privacy, the hem of your shirt already up to your neck. She was pushing your bra back up and over your tits, eager to really look at you.

She wasn’t sure what this meant for either of you, and she didn’t feel like ruining the moment by complicating anything. Ellie liked you, and she was willing to wait until you felt the same about her too-

Was she being overly self conscious and stupid right now? Wasn’t this. . . wasn’t this proof enough of how you felt about her? You’d been the one to take the reins during this entire friendship. You’d asked for her number and invited her over for dinner. All Ellie had done was kiss you, only after you let her know that you were interested.

Ellie moved her lips from your mouth down your neck, pushing her hands under your hips so that she could move down your chest. She paused though, looking up at you worriedly.

“Am I going to hurt you if I suck on them?” She wasn’t sure how nursing works. She didn’t exactly have an overflow of women in her life to tell her about those sorts of things.

You laughed, shaking your head quickly. You were panting softly, your cheeks deliciously flushed. “No, but I can still produce milk, so be caref-”

“Okay, that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.” Ellie had to brace herself, green eyes fully zoned into your beautiful, full breasts. So. . . if she sucked hard enough-

“Is this when you tell me that you have a mommy kink?” You asked playfully, starting to sit up.

“I didn’t,” She assured you, shooting you a small smile. “Until now. Lay back down.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, but you practically swallowed the noise when she finally closed her lips around your nipple, her hands making quick work of your jeans. They were unbuttoned and pushed down off of your hips before you could say anything. She removed her mouth from your breasts long enough to look at your panties.

And if god was real, they had answered her wish.

Because holy fuck you matched. Of course you did. She bit onto her lower lip hard, closing her eyes for a second so that she didn’t rip them right off of you. They were cute, and she wanted to see you in them again. Ellie wasn’t very good at being gentle in any aspect of her life.

Especially with you, it would seem.

She wanted to be mean to you all of a sudden. Leave bruises and marks to be explored later. She wanted to bite into your soft flesh and see just how easy it would be to leave hickies, but she couldn’t.

So she needed to breathe.

She leaned back up, pressing her lips against yours. She brushed her fingers against your thigh at first, letting you get used to the idea of her touching you. She desperately wanted to become more than acquainted with your cunt, but she needed to be gentle with you. You wrapped your arms around her tightly, your bare chest pressing against her clothed breasts. She wished she was naked. God, she regretted not being able to do this in bed. She’d gladly bleed to death if it meant that she could take her time with you.

She wanted to press every inch of her body against yours, but now wasn’t the time for that.

Her fingers grazed over your folds, and if her eyes weren’t closed then she was sure that they would have bulged straight out of her skull.

You were dripping.

Pride and possessiveness threatened to crush her ribs as she gathered up your slick, using it to rub a lazy circle around your clit. You jerked against her, but she didn’t let you pull your lips off of hers. She swallowed the strangled moan, eyes fluttering open briefly so that she could look at you.

You were precious.

She continued to draw circles, knowing that it was what she liked personally. She switched up the pace though, moving her arm to get better leverage. This time you were able to pull away from her, letting out a cry, your eyes opening so that you could look at Ellie’s face.

She was beautiful. Even with that predatorial look on her face, you couldn’t ignore the freckles and flushed cheeks. There was something so oppositional about her- how dominant but unassuming she looked. Here she was, moving you around like you weighed no more than a doll.

And then she sunk two of her fingers inside of you. The stretch was glorious, but it was the look on her face that had your walls fluttering around her. Pink lips parted to reveal her clenched teeth. Like she was damn near close to biting right into you. She was holding herself back fucking you like this. You weren’t sure what that meant, but your eyes were rolling to the back of your head the more you thought about it.

And then she brushed her thumb against your clit, her fingers nearly bruising your cervix as she continued to thrust them into you.

Your name escaped her lips then. She said it like a prayer. Like it was a promise.

Ellie curled her fingers inside of you, pressing against a spot that your much smaller hands couldn’t reach.

“Oh, fuck!” Your eyes were tearing up, hands fumbling around for anything to grip. You needed to hold something in order to ground yourself, because you were trying hard not to get the two of you arrested for indecent exposure.

Ellie was busy watching it all. She was sitting on her calves, greedily turning her gaze from your fucking gorgeous expressions to your glistening pussy, which was currently swallowing her fingers. Your walls were satiny soft, and she could feel them flutter around her as she continued hitting the same spot that got such a loud reaction from you earlier.

You were quivering under her, hands moving from the carseat, up to your breasts, and then your hair. You yanked at your locks, the pleasure practically too much. Ellie was this beautiful, vicious thing on top of you. It was obvious that she wanted to wrench out every bit of pleasure from you, even if you said it was too much. Even if you told her to stop. There was a glint in her eyes that told you she wouldn’t be able to. She was just as hungry for your release as you were.

“Grip onto me, baby.” She moved to lay back on top of you, adding a finger for extra measure.

Your hands were at her back immediately, fingernails digging into her freckled flesh. She pressed her face into your neck, enjoying your floral scent- moaning at the pain and the pleasure that was building in her own abdomen. She almost laughed- finding her own impending release comical.

Because there was no way she was about to prematurely cum because she was touching you, a girl that she was pretty much head over heels for. The tightening in her abdomen was familiar though, and all she could do was lamely moan your name against your throat.

“You’re not gonna hurt me. Hold me tighter.” She mumbled, her hand moving quicker and quicker, the sounds echoing around your car bordering on illegal.

You were the hottest thing on the entire planet. She was sure of it. Her hands shook as your nails dug in deeper, to the point that she was positive she was bleeding. She wanted a physical reminder of what happened tonight. Scars and all. Whatever she could take with her later on in life, especially if this was a one time thing.

She needed every physical and mental reminder that you were willing to give her. So Ellie moved her face so that she was looking at you, even when her own pleasure was building to the point where her own knees quivered, finding it hard to hold up her own weight.

She watched you unravel. Felt your cunt practically swallow her fingers as you tightened around them. Your back arched, eyes pinched closed as your cherubic lips parted in a silent scream.

And then Ellie followed right after you.

She leaned her head against your chest, hips jerking forward as she continued to work you through the waves of your own pleasure, trying not to get drowned by her own.

“D-Did you. . .” You breathlessly started to ask, your big doe eyes practically the size of saucers.

“I promise, t-this is the first time this has ever happened.” Ellie admitted, feeling a touch of shame.

You wanted to take a few minutes to calm your pounding heart, but the sight of the bloody towel on the floorboard had you clambering to sit up, moving your bra and shirt back into their rightful places. Ellie was still trying to catch her breath, the muscles in her shoulders still twitching from her own release. You opened up the car door after snatching up the keys, and for a second the auburn haired girl felt terrified.

She bit her lower lip, wiping her dripping fingers off on her pants before grabbing her shirt and climbing out of the car. Alright. . . so this was it, right? You knew you were a lesbian now, and she would be left in the dust. It wasn’t such a bad arrangement, really. She couldn’t even be mad.

Technically, if she really thought about it, you’d been just as much her first as she had been yours.

Her boots crunched against the gravel as she followed you into the hospital, her heart still pounding in her chest. She shrugged on the shirt as she walked, careful not to tug at the wound in any way.

Ellie’s forehead was beaded with sweat, and she nearly laughed at the ridiculousness of it all.

She’d never gotten her heart broken by a gay girl before, and here it was. For some reason. . . she knew with certainty that this was going to hurt ten times worse than any of the other ones had.

But then the hand that wasn’t sliced open from elbow to wrist was being gripped.

Your fingers intertwined with hers.

“I’m sorry to break it to you babe, but you’re definitely a lesbian.” Ellie told you with a small smile, opening the door to the lobby for you.

“Oh, for sure.”

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once-upon-a-thigh · 7 months

Text

HER

Summary: You’ve been at college for 3 years. Now it’s time to return home to old friends, and old(er) lovers. PERFECT LITTLE SECRET P3 18+

Pairings: Fem! Reader x Milf! Wanda Maximoff, Fem! Reader x Carol Danvers (brief), Reader x Yelena x Kate (platonic).

Warnings: Angst, fluff, smut, fingering, clothed sex, masturbation, large age gap, swearing, lords name in vain?? Couldn’t find my laptop charger so shitty phone format.

Lips crashed against each other as your bodies desperately ground against the other, aimlessly searching around for any bit of friction among the bedsheets in your dorm that will settle the pulsing of your core.

The hot frenzy was interrupted by the blaring of your ringtone. Ignoring it, you flipped the blonde over with all your strength, grinding down on the crotch of her jeans. The shrill ring didn’t seize however, so pushing yourself up and blowing the hair out of your face with an exasperated sigh, you picked up the device and put it to your ear, shushing the blonde that grabbed at your ass with a frustrated grunt.

“Bout time you picked up.” Drawled the Russian.

Your annoyance almost disappeared at the sound of Yelena’s voice, your friend from high school. You didn’t get to see her often, seeing as you had attended different universities for the last 3 years.

“Well I’m a little preoccupied.” You quirked, breathe still heavy.

“You better not be hooking up with Danvers again.”

You glanced down at the athlete you’re straddling, relieved that she can’t hear the disapproving voice down the line. “So what if I was?” You said through gritted teeth.

“Oh come on Y/N/N!” She exasperated, “she ruined your life!”

The guilt returns as it always did. Did she ruin your life? You still haven’t made up your mind. For a long time you thought so, but with every ignored text and voicemail message to Wanda, you started to convince yourself that maybe the older woman wasn’t the love of your life, that just maybe, Carol did the right thing by telling your parents that day. Still, you can’t help but hold some resentment towards her, hence why despite the fuck-buddy situation you have going on with her, you still refuse to have a full on relationship with the blonde no matter how much she asks.

Yelena took your silence as a sign to change the subject. “Anyway, I’ve called to invite you to a wedding.”

“It’s not yours and Kate’s is it?” You chuckled.

“Ew, as if.” She scoffed. “It’s Nat’s, she’s finally popped the question to Maria.”

“I don’t know Lena, I’m kinda disappointed that your sister’s off the market.” You teased, shuffling when you felt Carol tense under you.

“Fuck off.” You can practically hear her eyes rolling through the phone. “It’s this weekend.”

“This weekend? Christ, they hardly have given me any time to think about it.”

“What can I say? Lesbians.”

You shrugged at her short explanation. To be fair, it’s completely Natasha’s style to plan such an important event with such little time to prepare.

“Listen,” she continues, “I know you don’t like coming back home after everything that happened with your folks, but I miss you, or whatever.”

You rolled your eyes, but smiled anyway. “I’ll be there.”

If you knew that the invite Yelena presented you with would lead you to having a breakdown in your parents’ drive-way… well actually, you’re not all that surprised. Sure, the long drive to your home town had sent plenty of stressful thoughts and scenarios through your head, but the sight of the red Buick you knew all too well parked in the drive across the road confirmed them all. She was still here. She exists, she’s alive, and she still lives here.

You’re not sure how long you sat in your car just watching, waiting for any sign of movement behind the drawn curtains of the house. Her house.

You weren’t sure really how to feel. Wanda Maximoff dropped you the minute your parents threatened her that fateful night.

She didn’t answer the door no matter how much you knocked, and she didn’t answer the phone no matter how much you called. Still, she never blocked you, and your sent messages still remain on “read.” It sickens you how much hope that word fuelled you with, reminding you of the days you just sat there waiting for her to send a response, a response devoting herself to you and confessing her love all over again.

Stop it. You force your gaze to leave the car as you finally make the move to enter your childhood home. You’re over her.. Right?

The sound of silverware scraping dinner plates was the only sound breaking the thick tension of the dining room. Your parents are happy that you’re back, sure, and you were happy to see them. Still, your relationship with them hasn’t been the same since the exposure of your endeavours with Wanda. You fought hard with them for a while before you eventually up and moved for college, leaving a strained relationship with them behind.

Your time away from home (and a heck load of time in therapy) gave you enough time to process everything that happened, and even gave you the strength to forgive your parents. At the end of the day they were only doing what they believed was right in order to protect you, and you couldn’t help but love them for it now that you’ve matured.

Buzz, buzz

You glanced at your phone. Carol.

Buzz, buzz

“Those your college friends honey?” Your father spoke through a mouthful of potato.

“It’s just Carol” you muttered, turning it on do not disturb for an hour.

“Oh Carol!” Your mother tuned in. “I’m glad you’re still seeing her sweetheart, she’s a lovely girl.”

“Yeah.” You stated through gritted teeth.

“Why aren’t you bringing her to the wedding?”

You wiped your mouth with a napkin, stalling an answer to your mum’s nosiness. “I don’t have a plus one, I’m just going with Lena and Kate.”

“Oh,” you can see her cringe physically cringe, “those two.”

The doorbell rang. Speak of the devils.

“Gotta go!” The chair scraped as you got up from the table hastily, silverware clashing with plates as your knees bumped the table on your way up.

“Y/n!” You ignored the scolding as you sprinted to the door, flinging it open and throwing yourself at the two awaiting bodies.

The three of you clung on to each other, giggling when you caught your elbow on Kate’s chin. And just like that things felt normal, the three of you were just hanging out after school, and you hadn’t met Wanda yet.

“Dude! I just saw your ex milf peering through the window. She’s still hot.” Kate laughed, and silence followed.

“Kate, what the fuck?” Yelena looked at her dumbly, luckily not catching your eyes flickering to the quiet house across the street.

“Shit, sorry Y/n/n.” The tall girl pursed her lips.

“It’s alright.” You let out a half real/half fake chuckle, reaching up to throw an arm over her shoulder and steering her inside, the blonde closely following.

The girls ignored your parents, as they have been doing for the past three years, and followed you straight up to your room. For the next hour you laze around on your bed, gossiping, catching up and discussing Nat’s big day tomorrow.

“And she didn’t invite me to her hen night? Can you believe that?” Yelena is mid-rant about her sister (again) when your phone comes off do not disturb.

Buzz buzz

“I mean I’m so fun! Right? You agree with that right? I’m so fun?”

“You’re so fun!” Kate chimes in, sipping on the bottle of rum you had been passing around.

Buzz buzz

“Jesus, who the fuck is that y/n? I’m trying to be pathetic in peace here.” Yelena paused her rant, picking up your phone before you could grab it yourself.

“Oh, my, god.”

“Yelena-“ she pulls the phone away from you, standing up before you can grab it back and begins reading out the messages whilst pacing back and forth.

“I miss tasting you!” She reads, walking around the room as you follow her, making attempts at getting your phone back.

“Woah!” Kate exclaims, looking at you with a dropped jaw. Her mouth hangs open more little by little as Yelena continues to read the messages coming through.

“Why didn’t you invite me to the wedding, I mean I was right there”

“Y/n, pick up the phone.”

“I miss you.”

“You’re with her again aren’t you?”

“I love you, you know I do.”

“-For fucks sake Y/n, she’s mental!” Yelena is exclaims, concern painting her brow as she looks through the messages.

“Who’s this?” Kate leans over the bed, peering over Yelena’s shoulder to get a look at the phone. “Ugh, ‘Captain’? I thought you were done with her.”

“I’m trying to be!” You exasperate, star-fish collapsing on your bed. “It’s just hard, despite everything I know she’s at least going to be there when I need her, you know?”

“Yeah, cause she left you no other choice.” Yelena scoffed. “She’s getting weird babe, it’s time you drop her. For real.”

“Alright.” You roll your eyes. She was getting pretty needy to be fair.

Buzz

“Oh here we go- oh, fuck.” Sitting up, you see the pair looking at each other in shock.

“What is it?” You take your phone back, but not before Yelena gets a final swipe in. Looking at the screen, you see nothing but needy messages from Carol.

“Nothing,” Lena shrugs, shooting Kate a suspicious look. “Just Danvers being a freak.”

Soon the girls left, leaving you alone in your room. It had gone dark outside now, the moon illuminating the parts of your childhood bedroom that the dim bedside lamp could not reach. Your parents had long gone to bed, and there you stood, standing in front of the window and finally letting yourself take in reality. The curtains of her window were closed, but you could see a smidge of light seeping out of the slight gap in the curtain. It was too far away to see in the gap, but the light was enough. You knew she was there, and just the thought left you absolutely soaked.

It seemed like just yesterday your breath was fogging up that very window, chest pressed against the glass, heaving with every pump of her hips. Suddenly you were hot, so very hot. It had been a while since you thought of her like this- actually, that’s a lie. You thought of her like this a lot. What you hadn’t done in a while, is touched yourself whilst thinking of her like this. You usually had distractions, you had Carol. But this time you were alone, and so with the curtains wide open, you began to strip. You took your clothes off slow and sultry, like you used to knowing she was looking. You closed your eyes and pretended, you pretended it was three years ago and the woman you pine for is watching from the window across the street and you show her what’s hers.

Goosebumps followed every brush of your hands as you shred the clothes from your body, breath getting heavier, pussy getting wetter. Before you knew it you were throwing yourself on to your bed, reaching over for the vibrator that had been long forgotten in your bedside table. You let out a sigh of relief as it came to life with a click of the button, the batteries still work. You teased it over the hard peaks of your nipples as you lowered it to your aching core, gasping when it was finally pressed against your pulsing clit.

Fantasies and memories alike flood through your mind as you rubbed the vibrator against your aching bud with one hand, two fingers from the other entering your hole. There was always one common factor with these thoughts, Wanda. You fucked yourself vigorously as you thought of her, of what she might do to you if she was here. Fuck, you missed her. You came with her name slipping past your lips, and with that you knew you weren’t over her, you never could be.

Feeling relief, and some slight self-judgement over what you had just done, you switched the light off before turning over to sleep. Had you been facing the window, maybe you would have seen the slight twitch of her curtains, and her light switching off soon after yours.

Pulling your pencil knee length dress down as you stood, you clapped as the beautiful newlyweds began to make their way down the aisle “I can’t believe they pulled it off,” you muttered to the sobbing brunette beside you.

“T-that was so beautiful.” Kate managed to comment through sobs.

“Oh for god’s sake Bishop keep it together” Yelena elbowed her on her other side.

Nat and Maria’s ceremony was beautiful. Despite it being planned so last minute, it was well put together. They managed to host the wedding at their friend’s hotel. It was quiet and small, only close family and friends attended the ceremony. Now, more people were slowly migrating through the doors as the reception went full swing.

You were just getting in to the ABBA song playing over the speakers, politely sipping on your martini when you were aggressively turned around by your friends that had been acting weird all evening.

“Hey! Heyyy Y/n” Kate grinned weirdly at you.

“Uh, hi Kate?” You looked between the two of them, getting weirded out by how they were smiling awkwardly and constantly glancing over your shoulder. You turned to see what they were looking at, but was immediately pulled back by Yelena’s hand on your face.

“Y/n we have to tell you something!” Kate suddenly screeched.

“No we don’t!” Lena glared at her.

“Oh come on Yel! We can’t avoid her all night.” She groaned, loosening her purple tie.

The blonde ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. “Fine! Y/n, Kate has to tell you something.”

“Oh fuck off Yelena!” Rebutted the brunette.

“Fine! I have to tell you something..”

You began to get nervous. “Uh, okay?”

“Last night, when I was looking at Carol’s messages.. another one came through..”

“Okay? And?” You tried to catch her gaze, but her eyes kept darting between you and whatever it was that was happening behind you.

“It was Wanda.” She winced.

…

“What?”

“She wanted to let you know she was coming to the wedding..”

“What?”

“I had no idea she knew Nat or Maria I swear!”

“Why didn’t I see the message?” You questionably muttered, your brain feeling completely frazzled.

“I deleted it.” She physically winced.

“What? Why?” You yelled over the music.

“Because I knew you’d freak out!”

“And THIS is better? Oh my god! I’ve got to go! I’ve gotta get out, KATE HELP ME GET OUT!” You shook the brunette by her shoulders.

“It’s too late Y/n!” She pointed behind you.

Finally you turned around, and your heart skipped a beat when your eyes met the green of hers.

Her name dusted your lips on instinct, a name you found yourself missing saying, missing moaning. She looked different, not bad different, just different. Her hair was longer and brighter, combating the dullness in her orbs. Her jaw and cheekbones are more strongly defined than the supple skin you used to kiss. She was slimmer, she almost looked taller. But she was still Wanda. Your Wanda.

Once you came to you finally realised the two of you had just been stood staring at each other from across the room, both taking the other in. You knew you looked different too, and you found yourself hoping she still saw the girl she once loved in you.

“I should, um..” You didn’t even finish whatever your excuse was going to be before your feet were carrying you towards her. She stayed rooted in place, but didn’t break her stare once.

The walk towards her felt like it was forever, though it was only maybe ten seconds. Ten seconds that you spend trying to come up with something to say. Though when you stop just a foot in front of her, you’ve got nothing.

You stood with your mouth open like a fish out of water before you managed to slip out a shy “Hi-”

“-You are so beautiful.” She said at the same time as your pathetic greeting with a sweet delicacy.

“Oh..” Was all you could get your stupid mouth to say.

She looked at you with the same gentleness she usually did, with soft eyes and a tender smile. “How is it possible for you to be even more beautiful than you were then?”

“Well I guess I grew up.” Finally your brain remembered to form sentences.

“I guess you did.” She glanced at the floor, breaking the stare off you didn’t even realise you were having. “Y/n,” your breath hitched hearing her say your name, “will you walk with me?”

You looked at the hand she was offering to you, unsure one what your next move should be.

“I completely understand if you want to go back to your friends and pretend I was never here,” she said strongly, “but I would really like the opportunity to explain myself to you.”

You’re not sure if this explanation was going to make or break you, but god you know you wanted to hear it. So for the first time in 3 years, you took her hand, and followed.

She led you out the doors and through the busy end of the garden until you came across a still, lonely pond. Forgetting about your nice dress that you did not intend to get dirty tonight, you plonked yourself onto the grass, freezing up when she sat next to you.

You broke the silence. “What are you even doing here?”

Wanda thought for a few seconds before she answered. “When what happened, happened.. I guess your friend told Natasha about everything. A week later Maria shows up at my door, and I’m thinking your parents have actually done it, you know? Told everyone? But she sat me down and she just.. let me talk about you, and she supported me. She helped me through everything and if it wasn’t for her I.. I don’t know. She became my friend when I really needed one. Anyway of course she invited me to her wedding and she was kind enough to warn me you were going to be here. I figured I should probably reach out..”

“Yeah I didn’t exactly get that message.” You laughed, “Yelena panicked and deleted it before I could see it.”

She chuckled, “those friends of yours, I always liked them.”

“I thought they annoyed you.” I teased.

“They were slightly annoying,” she laughed, nodding her head. “But they care for you, and they’ve been good friends to you.”

Bitterness swelled when you recalled one of the main reasons as to why you needed their care in the first place. “Yeah well, god knows I needed it.”

She swallowed, slowly nodding. “I’m sorry.”

You scoffed.

“I am Y/n, you have no idea how much.” She faced you, grabbing your hands in hers. You couldn’t bring yourself to pull away. Any measly contact from her sends you in to a secret euphoria. “I swear you have no idea how much I wanted to reach out to you, how many times I picked up the phone without pressing accept, how many times I stood on the other side of the door without opening it-“

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” You ripped your hands away from here, but she immediately grabbed them back.

“No! I’m just-“ her lip quivered, you could see her eyes getting watery just as yours were. “I’m just trying to tell you that what I said that day, after your parents caught us, I meant it. I have never wanted anyone like I have wanted you, which is why it was so hard to let you go.”

“So why did you?” You asked calmly.

“Because as real as we were your parents were kind of right too. I’m old, Y/n, and you were, are, so young. I have two kids, an ex-husband, I spend my Friday nights baking and my Saturdays at book club! What business did someone like me have being with someone like you?” She cried.

“Because you loved me! You love me.” Salty tears rolled over the corners of your lips, swollen from how much you had been biting them without even realising.

“I did,” she nodded “I do.”

Your wet doe eyes dropped to her red lips as she drew nearer, tilting back at her eyes again which had gone darker in just a second. They were harrowing and loving, as she wondered what the hell she had been doing those years without you.

“Three years without you was everything and nothing all at once.” She spat out passionately before quickly pressing her lips against yours. You immediately kissed back, the thought of pushing her way not even gracing your mind for a millisecond. Subconsciously, you had been waiting for this moment for a long time.

“I never stopped thinking about you.” She whispered between desperate kisses. Oh, how you missed this.

“Me neither.” You replied, grasping at her suit jacket with selfish hands, falling back on to the grass and pulling her half on top of you. You quivered as her ringed fingers explored your matured curves, slowly moving on from soft grazes to rough grips of the flesh of your thighs and ass.

“I fucking love you detka, you’re never leaving me again. You belong with me, understand?” She spoke in to your neck after she kissed her way down your jaw. You whimpered at the pet name, this being the first time you’ve heard it in so long. You could feel your lace getting uncomfortably wet as you soaked in her possessive talk.

She pinched your thigh when you didn’t respond. “Understand?”

“Yes mommy I understand!” You squealed.

She moaned against your mouth at the term, she missed hearing you whimper it, moan it, scream it.

It has been quite some time since you said it too, and just like that you were snapped back in to the space you once were, forever and always hers.

“Touch me, please mommy, touch my pussy.” You begged through a whisper, looping your fingers in the belt loops by her hips, pulling her in to you until you could feel the gyrating of her hips against your thigh.

She groaned, dropping her head to leave open, wet kisses on your exposed cleavage as she got lost in the feeling of her heat grinding against the muscle of your thigh. She slipped a warm hand up the skirt of your dress, not wasting a second before she was pushing your panties aside and gathering your wetness among her fingers.

She withdrew her hand and traced her slick fingers over your bottom lip. “Can anyone other than mommy make you this wet?”

You shook your head rigorously, tongue reaching out to taste yourself. You didn’t get the chance as she was already sticking them in her own mouth, moaning at the taste. “Mm I’ve missed your taste baby, but I can take my time with that later. For now, you need your cute little cunt fucked don’t you?”

You barely had time to respond before you were throwing your head back, moaning out her name as she plunged two long fingers in to you, curling them in a come hither motion with every thrust. You could only imagine the grass stains your dress would be covered in after this, your back rubbed and wriggled against the green blades with every thrust of her wrist. She put all her body in to fucking you, getting herself off on your thigh at the same time.

You grabbed and scratched at every part of the older woman that you could reach as your body grew rigid as it reached its release.

Wanda chuckled darkly against your sweat-shined skin. “Already detka? It’s a good thing we’ve got all night.”

You came hard on her fingers, harder than you have in the last three years. She was right, no one else could possibly make you feel like this. She ground her hips in to you harder, moaning lowly as the friction against her clit brought her to her climax not long after your own. She collapsed on your still body, breathing heavily as she rolled on to her back, pulling you in to her side.

You still couldn’t believe this was real, who knew this is where you’d end up upon returning home. Part of you wished you had come back sooner. A quiet whisper slipped past your lips, but she heard it. “I missed you.”

Pulling you closer, she pressed her puffy lips to your forehead in a firm kiss. “I missed you too darling.” She brushed her nose against yours, gazing in to your eyes. “I was serious you know, I’m not letting you go.”

“I know,” you smiled, “I’m not going anywhere.”

—————————————————

I finally did it! Aaaah! Thank you to whoever stuck around long enough to read the third instalment of Perfect Little Secret, I hope you liked it.

I proof read this in between reps at the gym so you can only imagine how that was, sorry if there’s any mistakes.

Meg 😘

#onceuponathigh #marvel #marvel women #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff #marvel smut #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x reader

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alottiegoingon · 19 days

Text

who's afraid of virginia woolf?

jackie taylor x fem!reader

summary: the one where you and jackie secretly love each other while struggling with your sexuality.

warnings: jackie and reader are best friends, everyone is 21+, alcohol, heavy mentions of r and j dealing with their sexuality, homophobia mentions?, lesbians in denial, angst but fluff and happy ending, not proofread, slightly based on good luck, babe by chappell roan!!

making plans of going to college together became a regular thing when you and jackie entered high school. it was only natural that the two of you shared the typical teenager dream of living with your best friend and being roomates in uni, ditching classes and getting drunk instead of studying for exams.

"hey, don't worry." jackie tried to comfort you when you got a terrible score at your finals in senior year. she was fidgeting with the heart necklace she wore on her neck, gently spinning it around between her fingers.

regardless her impressive and actually sad capacity to pretend to be just a silly popular girl with pretty face and shiny hair, jackie was actually smart. you knew that all that effort to act all clueless and giggly around weird teenage boys in high school was fake. you never saw jackie studying during the weekends but, somehow, she would always get the perfect grade but would be the first one to hide it from boys. everyone knew that being too smart was bad. boys would easily get intimidated and that wasn't good for jackie taylor.

"we are gonna get through this together. i promise. i'll help you." jackie gives you that same old sweet looking smile that always get you freaking out inside while putting on your best show to act casual.

one more thing about jackie taylor; she had your heart in the palm of her hands since you two met. you weren't certain about how your friendship actually started, but you were sure that it was almost instantly.

jackie was actually quite popular by the age of eleven. she had the charisma of those late night show hosts you used to watch on tv with your parents, the prettiest and softest hair ever and a sweet perfume that would ling around for days.

jackie was also a natural leader. if any kid needed to complain about a classmate stealing their favorite glitter pen or their favorite sticker, jackie would be in charge of comforting them and helping them with whatever they needed. it wasn't rare for the teachers to have a talk with her after class to compliment her for being such a role model. everyone loved jackie.

you loved jackie, maybe too much.

it didn’t take long for you to realize that. you had the worst time of your life every single day while having lunch in the cafeteria with jackie and other girls from your class. you felt like ripping your ears off when all they could talk about was boys. they weren't even being discreet about it, you thought at yourself as you watched them stare at a couple of losers that were treated like gods with their weird stiff hair full of gel and a mustache that consisted on a tiny clump of facial hair.

while every girl at your table was so mesmerized by them, dreaming about how their lives would be so perfect if they ever liked them back, you were captivated by someone else; jackie.

you could watch her for hours, even if she was too busy looking at boys. you would think that her hazel eyes were even prettier that day, but that was a daily thing. you loved to hear her voice and to see her big beautiful smile adorning her face when she was excited about something and, with her, you didn't mind hearing about boys.

eventually, you and jackie got to live the dream. sharing a small bedroom with your best friend would sound like heaven to any girl but to you, it could be scary as well.

not only you were going to see her face every second at the day but it would also be hard to hear her constant speech about how you had to be more friendly and outgoing and stop studying so much. in another words, she wanted you to date guys.

that was a common debate between you two in high school. her persistent need to find the perfect boyfriend for you even though you were always ready to deny it. maybe she was trying to get rid of you?

"come onnn! all you do is study. remember last year when i had to drag you to mari's birthday party and you spent the whole night hidden in the corner?" jackie made fun of you during your first night together while doing her usual skin care routine.

even with her hair pulled back by a headband and with her face covered in cream, she looked fucking stunning.

"i wasn't hiding! i was just watching everyone from a safe distance..."

"that's actually worse." she giggled. you watch her leave the bathroom with a face mask and wearing nothing but a soft robe that had you on your knees.

“i’m not telling you to go crazy. all i’m saying is that you need to relax, okay?”

you weren’t exactly proud of it but you had to admit that is was too hard to focus on anything else besides her. it was impossible to deny her anything anyway but now? you were in tight shoes.

you could already feel your face heating up while you stood there like a coward with eyes growing wide and fighting for your life to not drool over your straight best friend.

“so? what do you think?” she insists, giving you an impatient glance.

“yes.” you immediately said the first thing that popped into your head.

“what?” you watch jackie’s eyebrows knitting.

“i-i mean, yes! i agree. i should relax more.” you trip over your own words but, thankfully, jackie didn’t seem to notice. maybe you were just stressed with the entire change of routine.

“great! we can start tomorrow!” she clapped her hands excitedly as her smile grew from one ear to another, probably surprised and relieved that you didn’t disagree this time.

[📚]

the first weeks weren’t nearly as good as you thought they would be. you managed to make some friends and actually met nice people, but so did jackie.

every friday night was a new suffocating experience. after a long week, jackie would drag you to the closest bar that most of the students would go to and, for the first half of the night, her duty was to play the matchmaker.

ever since you had agreed with her that night, you would force yourself to look happy in front of jackie at every god damn time she introduced you to a guy.

“i think you have so much in common!” she would say to all of the men before giving you a wink and leaving you two alone in a noisy bar, disappearing into the drunk pool of people.

it was always awkward and uncomfortable, of course. some of the guys ended up being actually acceptable and some were even sweet. but no matter how hard you tried to focus on the conversation, you would eventually find yourself looking for jackie in the crowd just to get your heart shattered by the view of a drunk jackie taylor with her pretty dress, messy hair, and with one of her hands tightly wrapped around the heart shaped necklace, eagerly kissing a stranger.

seeing this at pretty much every friday night didn’t make your daily need to fight against your feelings the easiest. you were drowning so deeply into your own thoughts that, one day, you woke up decided to forget about it.

maybe all of that was just a phase. you didn’t have feelings for your best friend and you definitely didn’t feel like throwing up every time you saw a boy since you were a kid. and, obviously, you wouldn’t fail biology or calculus on purpose just to be tutored by jackie so you could spend even more time with her and listen to her voice.

and absolutely, without a doubt, you weren’t scared of the big bad wolf called truth banging on your door and calling you a wimpy liar.

fuck.

[📚]

everyone know that famous saying “you are what you eat”, but what about you are what you desire?

jackie stopped complaining about you being stuck on your dorm studying on a friday night or during the weekends cause you stopped doing it. now, she wasn’t the only one to frequently visit the closest bar.

most of the time, you were the one to invite her first and at that point, it became a tradition.

you and jackie had different classes during the day and would barely spend any time together until you two met again at night. you, too scared to even look at her, would find an excuse to sleep early or spend the night at some random guy’s dorm that you met the other night. spoiler alert; you didn’t even remember his name.

you noticed the visible disappointment in jackie’s eyes and how deeply hurt she seemed every time you left, too desperate to silence your own thoughts and numb your feelings with good old alcohol.

during the bar nights that you two shared, jackie wasn’t as energetic as before. sometimes, while feeling like you were kissing a fish as your lips awkwardly melded with some other guy’s, you would open your eyes right in the middle of it to find jackie on the other side of the bar, sitting by herself with a filled glass of something strong.

you felt sick to your stomach at the idea of being touched by anyone else except for her, especially a man. but it was worth it if it meant that you could forget her entire existence for the night and wake up at someone else’s bed in the morning (and probably be late for class).

the year was flying by and everything stayed the same, except that the two of you didn’t share a word for the past few months and you avoided each other at all costs.

“i was wondering that, maybe now that finals are over, we could-“

“sorry, i got plans with travis. i’ll see you later!” jackie said while rushing to the door of your shared dormitory. you were a liar but so was she. you knew that “later” was a synonym to “tomorrow if you’re lucky”.

and just like that, everyday was the day to hear a different name. kevin, josh, steve, randy, sam. you even thought about making a list with all those names. you tried to leave the dorm during that nights as well but you were too worried about her safety. it would be much better to just wait for her and pretend to be asleep when the door opens.

you couldn’t blame her, you were the one who started it.

[📚]

in a typical night at the bar, you feel a stranger’s arm wrapped around your waist. you were already dizzy thanks to the couple of shots you took and could barely feel your mouth attached to his. however, you were kind of thankful for that.

jackie wasn’t in a very different situation but she knew how to be pettier than you. she knew you and how you were acting for the past months. how you would look for her with the corner of your eyes just to make sure that she was okay or not too drunk.

you weren’t the most cautious person, jackie perceived your multiple stares and she would make the best of it. while having your attention, she was hiding behind her best mask and flirting with the first man she saw. it was the performance of her life, consisting of a fake smile followed by a loud and high pitched giggle and an exaggerated hair twirling.

you, watching from across the room, felt your blood boil as your hands curl into fists. how dare jackie to do this right in front of you? didn’t she know how badly you wanted her?

retaliating her behavior, you would mimic her actions just to get under her skin. until it worked too well.

you carefully watched jackie leave the bar in quick steps and your first idea was to ignore her. she started the entire jealous thing and she was being childish. but so were you.

you immediately ditched the person who you were talking to and placed the shot glass on the wooden table so you could follow her.

you immediately stopped walking as soon as you put your feet outside, finding her sitting on the sidewalk. you would usually approach her in seconds, ready to go for a hug, but neither of you were in proper speaking terms now.

cautiously, you get closer. she doesn’t look up to meet you but you know that she can feel you there. you sit by her side and hug your legs. the silence gets so loud that you would be able to hear crickets if it wasn’t for the muffled noise coming from the bar.

“what happened to us?” jackie’s breathy and insecure voice finally breaks through the silence after a while.

you finally feel brave enough to look at her. not just look, to see her. to acknowledge her presence. to not ignore her.

“i don’t know.” you whisper. but you did.

“are we even friends?”

“we used to be best friends.” she looks at you and, for the first time in what felt like forever, you could see all of the details in her face again. of course, she was prettier than you could remember.

“you remember when you gave me this?” jackie grabs the shiny heart pendant, rubbing it between her fingertips. there was a small hint of a smile trying to make its way to her lips.

“yeah. you were scared to try for the soccer team.”

“scared? i was terrified.” she adds and you let a whispery chuckle out. “i couldn’t sleep for days, thinking if i would be good enough to even make it to the bench.”

“you gave me this before the first trial and said that if i was feeling too scared, i could squeeze it and it would be just like holding your hand.”

“i guess it worked, right?” you try to lighten the mood, lips curling up into a subtle smirk. jackie ended up being part of the team and, over time, the team captain.

she nods in silence.

“i didn’t even like soccer.”

“what? but you were so good. why did you join the team?” your eyes narrow as you speak and your heart starts to beat faster when jackie takes longer to say something.

“you were part of the team. i wanted to be around you.”

you find yourself looking away from her to hide the sudden heat and the pinkish tone of your cheeks. jackie went through a stressful week that year, practicing and learning the basics without actually liking it just because of you.

the sound of your voices is replaced by a loud nothing once again. the air was growing thicker and even the slightest touch of your shoulders accidentally brushing against each other was a reason to make you unconsciously hold your breath.

“i think i’m a lesbian.” your feel yourself getting struck by a sharp surge of disbelief and in a blink of an eye, she has your attention again. you feel the palm of your hands getting sweaty, going against the cold weather.

“what? why?” you manage to say a few words and, if it wasn’t for the delicate moment, jackie would have laughed at your frantic gaze.

“because.” jackie sighs, not being able to stop playing with the heart hanging on her neck. “i felt absolutely nothing when i had to pretend to care about boys in middle school but i felt the entire world when you were looking at me.”

not only she knew that you were always staring at her in the cafeteria but she liked it. she liked having your attention.

“you were never good at hiding it, by the way.” she snorts but you were sure that she was just as nervous as you.

“i thought i was pretty good…” you whisper, grinning. she was absolutely right, though.

“really? i found a biology test of yours hidden under your bed once. you were even better than me but you said that you were failing it and needed help.” the red color on your face gets more intense as you share a loud laugh. your hands momentarily cover your face.

“i think i just wanted to be around you.” you shrug, defending yourself by echoing her words.

“you still do?” jackie asks and, slowly, the lighthearted smile fades away from your face.

your gaze was lingering on her eyes and wouldn’t dare to leave. not even when you gently leaned closer and your fingers fixed her hair by carefully hiding a small section behind her ear. the entire world felt like it had stopped and you could hear a feather hitting the ground. it was quite adorable how jackie was the one to held her breath now just before swallowing the lump on her throat.

“i think i’ll always want to be around you.” you whisper. there was nothing but love and adoration inside your eyes as you felt completely hypnotized by her. you allowed your gaze to drift down to meet her lips and the hand that was hanging around her ear just a second ago found its way to her face. the palm of your hand fit perfectly on her cheek and you took the opportunity to guide her closer to you.

the first thing you feel the second after closing your eyes is jackie’s soft lips touching yours and how tenderly they were dancing together. it was almost like you and jackie were made of glass and you didn’t want to break each other.

jackie’s hand imitated yours but she used her thumb to caress your cheek. you feel her pulling away from your lips and you feel faint when your eyes open and she is smiling like she had just won the lottery.

“fuck. you are so pretty.” you groan in a dramatic way. with watery eyes and rosy cheeks, jackie nestle her face into your neck and gives your skin a small kiss, causing you to shiver and hug her body tightly, closer to you.

maybe the big bad wolf on your door wasn’t so scary now.

#please tell me u got the title #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #jackie taylor x reader #jackie taylor

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hairstevington · 4 months

Text

Teleplatonic

Summary: Robin starts hearing voices in Click's class. Well, it's one voice. A dude. Some douchebag jock who Robin's unrequited love has a thing for. Could high school be any worse? (5K words)

Warnings: Not much just Steve and Robin being platonic soulmates, mention of Steddie and Stommy backstory, Click's class and Scoops Ahoy era Stobin, the coming out scene (my beloved)

A/N: Many thanks to my discord ( @strangerthingswritersguild ) who encouraged me to take my silly idea and turn it into a cute lil fluffy one shot about the power of platonic loveeeee. Ao3 link here for those interested!

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

At first, Robin thought she was going crazy.

Honestly, it wouldn’t have surprised her. She was already a closeted lesbian in the eighties, so she was doomed anyway. Might as well add schizophrenia to the list.

Click’s class was a mixed bag. On one hand, Tammy Thompson. On the other, Steve Harrington.

Ugh.

Robin had been in love with Tammy Thompson since the fifth grade, when they split a candy bar the day after Halloween. Robin wasn’t allowed to eat much candy growing up, thanks to her father being a dentist. Tammy extended an olive branch by means of chocolate nougat, and Robin had been smitten ever since.

This was their first class together in high school, and it was supposed to be amazing. Robin was going to work up the courage to really talk to Tammy and maybe even be her friend. Yeah, it might torture Robin even more, considering the crush that was clearly not going to go anywhere - Robin had watched Tammy date enough guys to know there was no chance, and even if there was, Robin was far too anxious to do anything about it.

But still.

The first day of Click’s class came, and it was perfect. Robin was paired up with Tammy to discuss an assignment, and they were getting along beautifully. Robin even made her laugh!

Robin was an idiot who got her hopes up, and those hopes were immediately dashed when Steve “The Hair” Harrington rolled into the classroom, late, and plopped himself down right in front of Robin.

Immediately, Tammy’s eyes were on him, and they stayed on him the rest of the year. It didn’t matter when he got bagel crumbs everywhere, or asked stupid questions, or laughed along when kids were being made fun of. None of that mattered, because Tammy didn’t care.

Robin hated Steve Harrington so much she never stopped thinking about him. She thought about how much she hated him, how much she wished he’d flunk out, and she even thought about ways she could sabotage him so he would flunk out.

But Robin was a good person, and she could never do something like that.

Anyway, thank goodness she was smart, because she barely paid attention in that class and still got an A. The problem was, she started hearing voices.

Well, no. She heard one voice, singular. A man, no less.

At first it was so soft, she figured someone was whispering behind her. She couldn’t even make out the words most of the time, so it didn’t matter. She’d look at Tammy, and she’d look at Steve, and everything else was a blur.

Over time, the voice got louder, and then Robin couldn’t ignore it anymore.

This class is such a snooze.

Honestly, it was. Robin would have been thinking the same thing, had she been paying attention. But then, the voice started saying things she didn’t agree with. Things she would never think.

Napoleon looks just like Aunt Margaret’s baby. Ha, that’s funny. I’m funny.

The voice continued, saying even stranger things. Usually very sexual things. Sometimes, downright offensive things. It was maddening.

Mrs. Buckley was a psychotherapist, so Robin grew up surrounded by literature about psychology and the human brain. She was aware of crazy people that heard voices, and she had no option other than to accept that she was on the road to becoming one of those people. It was just…it was weird though, because she only heard the voice at school. And it was always loudest in Click’s class.

The possibility that she was reading someone’s mind did occur to her, but that seemed impossible. It was impossible, so she had a hard time even letting herself think that. Yeah, Robin would have rather found herself crazy than let herself believe she was a superhero. Her mom would have had a field day unpacking that one with her.

Anyway, she finally put all the pieces together a few weeks in, after another particularly boring lecture in Click’s class.

I’m so lost.

Literally how? They were just reviewing information they’d already learned. She wondered if maybe this voice was a manifestation of her low self esteem or something. She wished she would have been able to tell her parents without worrying about being sent to the loony bin.

“Steve?” Mrs. Click called. “Can you name the four presidents depicted on Mount Rushmore?”

The voice continued.

Oh, shit. Shit shit shit. I’m screwed. Why is she asking me of all people? Do I look like I know the goddamn answer?

It was the first time the voice was responding. Robin’s head started reeling.

“Uhhhh -” Steve began. “Well, it’s, uhhh….” Okay, four presidents. I can name four presidents. If they’re wrong, she’ll move on. “George Washington…”

“Very good,” Mrs. Click encouraged.

Right on, okay. Shit. Is Benjamin Franklin a president? He seems like he should be.

Robin’s breath hitched as she froze, recognizing the two voices as the same and officially coming to terms with her predicament. She gasped, cupping her hand over her mouth. A few people turned to look at her, including Steve, who only glanced at her before looking back at the front of the classroom.

Steve cleared his throat and sat up. “Uhh, what about all the presidents that aren’t on Mount Rushmore, right? Like - like Teddy Roosevelt. That guy was a total badass.” Steve folded his arms, as if he’d made an incredible, life changing point.

“Theodore Roosevelt is one of the presidents on Mount Rushmore, Mr. Harrington,” Mrs. Click said.

“Oh,” Steve replied, caught off guard. Fuck. “Oh, right. I mean, that’s what I was trying to say.”

You’re an idiot, Steve. A goddamn idiot.

Robin couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, in a way. She hated him, but still. He was a person with feelings. He couldn’t help that he was an idiot.

She raised her hand.

“Mrs. Click, I know the answer,” Robin announced. The teacher gestured for Robin to take over. “George Washington, Theodore Roosevelt, Abraham Lincoln, and Thomas Jefferson.”

Thank God for band geeks.

Robin sighed. Sure, she’d helped him. But he was still a douchebag.

The class carried on like this. Any time Robin felt any sort of connection to Tammy, she’d get distracted by the idiot who’s hair wasn’t even that good. It certainly didn’t warrant a whole nickname over. Steve “I don’t care” Harrington would have been more accurate.

That’s the part that drove Robin the most crazy. He didn’t care about Tammy. He didn’t care about school. He didn’t care about history. Why was he there? Why was his one true talent being the absolute bane of her existence?

I have to stop thinking about it.

Robin’s ears perked up, which was a silly phrase considering she wasn’t hearing soundwaves. The whole, “I’m hearing Steve Harrington’s inner thoughts” had lost its luster. Like, she thought she was going crazy, then she thought she was going crazy in a different way, and then she realized she was just cursed.

Worst. Superpower. Ever.

Especially because she couldn’t hear anyone else! What made Steve different? Why him, of all people???

Grow up, Steve. It doesn’t mean anything.

The voice sounded much more somber that day. Robin leaned back, closer to Steve’s seat, even though the idea of her being physically closer was a bit arbitrary.

Ugh, but Tommy looks so good today.

Wait, did he say Tammy? Was he finally giving Tammy the time of day?

What I’d give to kiss him again…

Robin’s eyes bulged out of her head. She practically fell out of her chair, causing alarm to the rest of the class.

‘Him?!?!’ Steve wanted to kiss ‘him?!?!’ Wait - Steve had this friend - Tommy H - and, ugh, that guy was even worse than Steve. He was meaner, and stupider, and -

STEVE WANTED TO KISS A GUY?! AGAIN?!

Robin scrambled back into her seat, muttering a quiet apology, and everything around her returned to normal.

She didn’t, though. Nothing would ever be normal again.

Robin survived Click’s class. Steve started getting a reputation. She didn’t talk to him, but there was nothing discreet about the way he was seen prancing through the halls with his arm around a different girl every week.

None of them were Tammy. Robin hated how relieved that made her.

It was strange. He was drooling about Tommy in his mind any time Robin was close enough to hear it, but on the outside, he was pretending to be something completely different.

For the first time, Robin realized she and Steve had something in common.

The following year, she avoided him at all costs. They didn’t have any other classes together, so she really only had to worry about casually passing him in the halls or sitting near him in the cafeteria. It just felt too real to be around him. She knew something she wasn’t supposed to, and that made her feel…icky.

Of course, they were at the same school, so they did run into each other a few times. Once, he literally bumped into her when he wasn’t paying attention.

“Woah, sorry,” he said with a laugh. Do I know her?

Robin rolled her eyes, and then she saw his gaze drift. Ugh, Carol. Why is he even dating her?

She ran away without another word, like a scared little mouse. He probably thought she was this weird, hyper, super-nerd, but whatever. It didn’t matter what he thought of her, and she wasn’t going to stick around long enough to find out.

Then, one day, she saw Tommy and Steve running off to talk in private, and curiosity got the best of her.

She had to know what was going on, okay? She was borderline obsessed with Steve at this point. She was far past trying to figure out what was going on in her head, so she settled for learning more about what was going on in his.

Besides, if they really wanted the conversation to be private, they would have gone somewhere that didn’t have a spot nearby prime for snooping.

She listened in from behind a wall.

“What are you on about, Harrington?” Tommy asked.

He’s not even listening. I don’t know why I’m surprised anymore.

“I’m just saying, she’s - like, what are you doing, man?”

There was a slam of a body against a locker.

“I got a girlfriend,” Tommy drawled. “You should try it sometime.”

God, his lips are so close. I could just lean in and - no. No, I have to get over this. I can’t keep doing this.

“Maybe I will,” Steve said.

About a week later, he was dating Nancy Wheeler.

Their paths didn’t intersect much at all after that. Robin did think about meddling or investigating the situation more, but it wasn’t her business. Steve kept telling himself he had to move on, and she did too.

She still thought about Steve constantly, but it was hard not to. He was literally in her head. Sometimes she’d pass by him and hear total nonsense. I’d rather be fighting a goddamn demodog than go to math. Most of the time he just thought about what superpowers he’d have.

And then, mercifully, he graduated.

That summer, Robin got a job slinging ice cream at a nautical-themed store in Starcourt Mall. She had to wear a stupid outfit, but, like - she was in the marching band, she was used to that. The job was fine, albeit boring. It gave her extra money so she could save up for…something, eventually. She didn’t know what yet. Maybe college? Every penny counts and all that.

But one fateful day in June, the voice came back.

No, no, no. I can’t go in there, not like this. It’s humiliating. I’ll - no, get over yourself. It’s just a job. You stupid pathetic loser, can’t even get into college. No, shh. This will be good for you. Just - oh my God, just go in!

Robin didn’t even look up from wiping the counter when her new coworker approached. She didn’t have to.

He was different than when he’d been in high school. He was sadder. It was even more miserable to hear him ramble on about his innermost insecurities than it was to hear him think about boobs.

Like, at least Robin also thought about boobs. She was insecure too, but that meant there was no space in her brain to hear anyone else’s thoughts about themselves.

The weird thing was, he didn’t think about Tommy at all, and he was flirting with every woman that came in. Unsuccessfully, but still.

It was…incredibly surreal, her becoming friends with someone and hearing them become friends with her at the same time. Robin could hear him trust her more and more as the days went by. She could hear him change his initial assumptions about her. She could hear him soften up, open up, and show her that he’d changed. He was different than he’d been in Click’s class. He’d left his high school persona behind.

She could hear him slowly fall for her.

That was the worst part of the whole thing by far. Worse than Click’s class. Worse than holding his secret feelings for Tommy, worse than the stupid questions and musings that made no sense. He was starting to love her, and she was starting to love him - but, she knew the types of love weren’t the same. She would disappoint him, and she’d lose him.

How strange it was to fear losing something she used to loathe having at all.

Honestly, by the time they were stuck in that elevator, she’d been prepped on everything based on Steve’s thoughts alone. There was too much going on for anyone to question her lack of freaking out. Besides, it’s not like Steve or Dustin were the poster children for good decisions under pressure.

At least, she figured they wouldn’t be.

Erica was strong and capable, but she was a child. So was Dustin, but it was abundantly clear to Robin that this wasn’t his first rodeo. Same with Steve, but she knew that already. Over the few weeks of them working together, she’d heard all kinds of things. Things she’d once brushed off as nonsense, that became too specific to ignore. The Upside Down. The Russians. Eleven. The Mindflayer.

Robin thought it was part of some game, at first. Dustin was into Dungeons and Dragons, right? She was pretty sure the Mindflayer was from that, but no. Steve wasn’t into Dungeons and Dragons at all - she checked - and she started hearing more about experiences rooted in the real world. She heard about what really happened to Barb, and how it ripped Steve and Nancy apart. She heard about how Nancy ran off with Jonathan, and how Steve let her. She heard about Steve becoming a babysitter in the thick of it, because he had to. She heard about how he got himself beat up in the name of protecting them.

And then she watched him get beat up again, in the name of protecting her.

She did love him. Yeah. It was against everything she’d ever believed, but she loved Steve Harrington. She just didn’t love him like that.

She tried to tell him when they were on the floor, tied to the chair, and seemingly with only hours left to live, if that.

She started laughing. She wasn’t sure what else there was to do.

Fuck, that hurt. Oh shit, she’s crying. “It’s okay, don’t cry. Robin.” Ugh, the way he was trying to comfort her even in the worst of times. It made her ache. She kept laughing, louder now. “Wait, are you laughing?”

Yup.

“Yeah.”

What the hell is wrong with this woman?

“Jesus.”

“I just can’t believe,” she began, “that I’m going to die in a secret Russian base with Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington. It’s just too trippy, man.”

It was trippy for even more reasons than he could ever know.

Yeah, you’re telling me. We’re screwed. “We’re not gonna die,” he said. Another annoying consequence of this whole mind reading thing was that she would always know when he was lying. “We’re gonna get out of here, I just gotta think for a second.”

“Sure, please do,” Robin insisted, still laughing. Him thinking consisted mostly of, shit shit shit oh my God shit what do we do?

But Steve rarely let that side show. He was so much different on the inside, all the time.

“Do you remember, um - Sophomore year Mrs. Click’s history class?”

Oh, shit. That just slipped out. Then again, they were gonna die, so…

“What?”

Robin continued. “Mrs. Clickety-Clackety. That’s what all us band dweebs called her. It was first period - Tuesdays and Thursdays - so you were always late. And you always had the same breakfast. Bacon egg and cheese on a sesame bagel. I sat behind you two days a week for a year. Mister Funny. Mister Cool. The King of Hawkins High himself. Do you even remember me from that class?”

No.

He didn’t say it, and he didn’t have to. “Of course you don’t,” Robin continued. Thoughts of that year came flooding back to her like a tsunami. “You were a real asshole, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“But it didn’t even matter that you were an ass, I was still obsessed with you." The words were pouring out of her now. "Even though all of us losers pretend to be above it all, we still just want to be popular. Accepted. Normal.”

His thoughts were a mere buzzing in the background of her confession, but she did pick out him lighting up at her mentioning her obsession. She immediately wished she’d just been totally honest, because now she was being misconstrued.

“If it makes you feel any better, having those things isn’t all that great,” he said.

She knew that by now. She’d learned it through him.

“Steve, I -”

“I wish I’d known you back in Click’s class,” Steve said. “Maybe you would have helped me pass.”

“I did,” she confessed. “Or, at least I tried.”

“What?”

A buzzer shook them away from their conversation. She’d missed her chance. It was over.

And then came the truth serum. That damned, terrifying, life-changing, blessed truth serum.

Well, that and Dustin saving their asses with a cattle prod.

After that came more laughter and terror and running and even more laughter and more running and then they were in an elevator back up to the real world again. She was with her friend and she was ecstatic. It was like she was floating. She’d never so much as had a sip of alcohol, but this is what she always imagined musicians felt like when they wrote all those songs about being on drugs.

Popcorn. Back to the Future. Laughing, laughing, laughing. You know, the weird part about that truth serum was that she stopped hearing Steve’s thoughts, if only for a bit. He said everything he thought, so it really just sounded like an echo, and everything sounded like an echo to her. The colors were bright. The noises were loud. And Steve was -

Oh, no. Steve was her best friend.

They both got sick and ran for the bathroom. There was that rare moment of calm that, up until that point, she never thought she’d have again.

“You think we puked all that shit out of our system?” he asked.

Well. There was only one way to find out.

“Maybe,” Robin responded. “Ask me something.”

If he could read her mind, he would have heard something like - Ask me if I’m gay. Please, do this for me like I did for you. I don’t think I can say the words.

Instead, he asked her when the last time she peed herself was. She answered truthfully, but that wasn’t a truth she was scared to admit. They were being tortured earlier - peeing herself was the least of her worries.

“Alright, my turn,” Robin said. She took a deep breath and pondered the question, knowing that whatever she asked she likely already knew the answer to. But it wasn’t about knowing. It was about getting to the conversation she needed to have. If she didn’t do it now, she never would.

“Have you ever been in love?”

Steve answered quickly. “Yep. Nancy Wheeler, first semester, senior year.”

He didn’t mention Tommy, which was intriguing. From Robin’s point of view, he had dated her for show. Or, he’d dated her because Tommy rejected him.

“Really?” Robin asked, amused. “But she’s such a priss.”

Yeah, until she threatened to shoot me. “Hm,” Steve replied. “Turns out, not really.”

Woah. Okay. Evidently, Robin didn’t know everything yet.

“Are you still in love with Nancy?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I think I found someone who’s a little bit better for me.”

Robin took a deep breath and put her head in her hands. This needed to happen, but she was still so scared. Even if he wasn’t homophobic, he loved her, and she was about to turn him down. How could their friendship sustain that? What would happen if he hated her guts, and she had to hear him think it every time they interacted?

She listened to him list off all the reasons he liked her. She was funny. She was smart. She was cool. Beautiful. He said all the things she’d heard him say in so many ways on the inside, but now it was real.

She couldn’t find any words to respond.

“Robin, did you just O.D. in there?”

“No,” she replied, her voice shaking. “I am still alive.”

He slid himself under the stall against the disgusting floor so he could face her. Oh, great. This wasn’t going to help at all.

“So what do you think?” he asked.

“Steve, I have to tell you something,” she said. “That thing I told you earlier, about being obsessed with you in Click’s class - it wasn’t - it wasn’t because I had a crush on you.”

He listened so intently his mind went quiet.

Robin told Steve about Tammy Thompson, and she saw him process it in real time. It didn’t take long, once he understood what she was referring to.

“Oh,” he finally said. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Holy shit.”

This is huge. I should tell her about Tommy. I should - I could - I finally have someone I can talk to about it.

“Steve, did you O.D. over there?”

“No, just thinking.”

I - I can’t. I can’t do it.

So instead, he did what he did best, and he made her laugh. And then the entire moment became focused on that, and how insane it was for them to be on the floor of the Starcourt bathroom after having spent days underground being tortured by Russians.

She didn’t get to tell him her other secret that day. They were quickly interrupted yet again by Dustin and thrust back into the madness.

But it didn’t matter. She knew she’d still have a friend once they saved the world.

After Starcourt “burned down” (Robin had to admit, she kind of loved officially being a part of the inner circle. She was now involved in the madness, and even though it was terrifying and awful and traumatic, it was so much more exciting than her world used to be), Robin and Steve decided to keep working together, because of course they did.

He had her secret, and she had his. He still didn’t know about that second part though.

They got a job at Family Video, thanks to her excellent ability to think on her feet and ramble until people gave her what she wanted. Keith was relatively easy to persuade.

After she came out to him and they became best buds, reading his mind developed into more of an echo all the time when it was just the two of them, because he told her everything he was thinking exactly the way he thought it.

There was only one thing he left out.

Tom Cruise is so hot. Oh God, do I have a kink for dudes named Tom?

Then, after Eddie Munson came in a few times - Huh, okay. There goes the Tom theory.

Robin couldn’t take it anymore. So, one day, when Steve was driving her home, she blurted it out.

“Steve, I can read your mind.”

He laughed at first. “What?”

“I can read your mind,” she said. “Just yours.”

“Uhhhh, is this some kind of weird joke?” he asked.

“No,” she replied. “I’m - ugh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you, and I - I’ve felt really awful about it, but I’ve been hearing your stupid thoughts ever since Click’s class, and I tried to tell you that day, but then I ended up telling you the other thing, and this felt like too much, and then we became really good friends and honestly it’s barely a thing anymore because we tell each other everything except for -”

“Wait, what??!”

Yeah, she knew she sounded crazy.

“Remember that day Mrs. Click called on you to ask which presidents were on Mount Rushmore? And you totally bombed?”

“No,” Steve said. “That kinda thing happened to me like three times a day.”

“Ugh, okay, well -” Robin stuttered, at least grateful he wasn’t kicking her out of the car. “Never mind. It’s just -”

“It’s only me?” he wondered. His voice was different now. “What am I thinking about right now?”

Robin honed in on his inner voice. “You just thought about how you accidentally stepped on a copy of The Breakfast Club and smashed it, and instead of confessing to Keith you told him that John Dover stole it and never gave it back, even though John Dover isn’t real.”

Steve’s eyes went wide.

“Hoooooly shit,” he said.

“Yeah.”

“Holy shit!” he repeated.

“I know!”

“Oh, my God!”

“I know!”

“Robin, this is insane!”

“I KNOW!!”

The car went quiet as Steve continued to wrap his brain around this. Well, it was quiet to anyone but the two of them.

Why is it only me?

“I don’t know,” Robin answered.

“Will you quit doing that?”

“I can’t help it!” she shot back.

Steve took a deep breath. “Okay, so you’ve been reading my mind for years. Got it. Cool. Totally cool.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“For what?”

“For not telling you.”

Steve gave a comforting smile. “Oh, yeah. You should be sorry for that.” Robin smacked him in response, and suddenly they were laughing again.

“Jerk!” she exclaimed. Once their laughter died down, he hummed in amusement.

"You know, it's really not fair you can read my mind and I can't read yours."

Robin nodded. "Agreed." There was another moment of silence between them.

“Huh,” he said. “Do you think we’re soulmates?”

Robin cocked her head and furrowed her brow in confusion. “What? Ew, Steve no -”

“Not, like, sexy soulmates,” he clarified.

“Sexy soulmates? Really?” she teased.

“Give me a break, Buckley,” he replied. “I just found out you’ve been in my head for two years, alright? It’s weird.”

She couldn’t argue with that. “Yeah.”

“So,” Steve continued. “You knew about the Upside Down stuff before the elevator thing.”

“Yeah.”

“Which means you also probably know…”

The Tommy thing.

“Yeah,” she confirmed.

“Stop saying yeah.”

“Okay.”

“I guess I just -” Steve sighed, throwing his head back against the seat. “I guess I’m freaking out a little, cuz like - privacy and all that.”

“I wish I could control it, trust me -”

“No, I know that,” he replied. “I mean, shit, if I could be out of my own head I would be. But, like, I don’t know. It’s kinda nice that you’re in there. Like, if it had to be anyone…”

“It would be your non-sexy soulmate,” Robin concluded with a smirk.

Steve returned it. “Oh, I’m gonna regret that, huh?”

“Forever and ever, babe.”

She couldn’t believe it. Finally, everything was out in the open. It was all up from here, right?

“Okay,” Steve said. “Well. If this is happening whether we like it or not, better put it to good use, right?”

She raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” Steve grinned. Robin’s eyes widened as she heard his idea moments before they were spoken.

“Robin, I’m gonna help you talk to girls.”

WHAT?!

This was hopeless and humiliating. How Steve was able to convince her this was a good idea, she would never know.

Tammy had graduated and gone to Nashville or whatever, but Vickie…

They had so much in common! And she was so pretty, and so sweet, and - and they played right next to each other in the marching band!

Of course, Robin could barely squeak a word out whenever Vickie looked her way. Thus, Steve decided she needed to practice.

He let her take some of the pretty customers instead of keeping them all for himself. At first, it was rough.

Be cool. Act like you don’t even like her.

“I don’t even like you.”

Okay, not like that.

It got easier, though. Eventually, Robin started to take hold of that classic Harrington charm. She wasn’t getting numbers or anything, but that’s not what it was about. It was their own special thing that they had. A secret mission. An inside joke. A bit they were fully committed to, even if only for their own enjoyment.

It was so weird and ridiculous, but whatever.

Robin Buckley and Steve Harrington, one-sided mind-reading duo and non-sexy soulmates. Who would have thought?

___________________________

I have no idea who to tag for this (my taglist is based on romantic pairings lmao), so hopefully whoever is interested finds it okay! <3

#platonic stobin #steve harrington #robin buckley #writing #stobin #steve and robin #platonic soulmates stobin

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xxxdreamscapexxx · 3 months

Text

A night full of surprises

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word count: 7.5k

Summary: This is a request I got and started to write on the 6th of June 2023 (yes, I know, this took me a while). I can't even find it in my asks anymore, but I have the author's decription copied, and it should be enough, so here it is:

"I'm thinking manipulative wanda being overly obsessed with reader to the point where she always calls you earlier than she has to leave for work so she can spend more time with you. She'll run her hands on your arms and sometimes rest her palm on your thigh while asking you difficult questions just to see you squirm beneath her presence. R on the other hand will feel very shy and intimidated by her. But there's also this attraction she kept pushing down because she has to be professional and is extremely scared that wanda will know about it and stop letting R babysit anymore, which also leads to her not seeing the middle aged woman again. But of course, being wanda, she knows exactly what R was feeling. By the way R squeezes her thighs, blush, and stutter, it doesn't have to take a mind reader to know. But one thing R didn't know about wanda is she can be impatient. She's wanted you for a long time, watched the way you'd wet yourself in front of her. Time will come where she would want a taste, where she'd take whatever is hers. After all, she's earned it for making R feel that way, right? So take she does and claim she will. And what a sweet, sweet R as reward could be..."

Warning: NSFW, 18+, lesbian relationship, oral, fingering, finger sucking, strap-on sex, R has a bit of an oral fixation, tribbing, overstimulation, Wanda being pervy, top!Wanda, Bottom!Reader

Masterlist with all my works.

Wanda loved watching you through your windows. She did it more often than she should, more often than it was appropriate for a woman like her, but she didn’t care. She hardly cared if neighbours saw her sneaking glances, or peaked through the windows whenever you were visible. As long as you didn’t know of her secret activities, everything else was inconsequential.

She adored to see you read your books, looking effortlessly beautiful on your recliner, waves of your hair falling around your face. She loved to see you retrieving your mail, or do some small things around the yard, dressed casually. She never missed the days when you went out, loving to see you all dolled up. On those occasions she liked to watch you and imagine that you did it all for her. That you’d put on your outfit to impress her, the make-up flawless, because you wanted to look nice for her. Not that she ever thought you needed all that. You were already perfect. But it made pride bloom in her chest to imagine, even for a bit, that you made the effort just for her.

Those were, of course, perfectly normal occasions, when she could see you. Then again, Wanda could never be satisfied with just that. She needed all of you, she craved you, she fantasized about you… She was obsessed. She felt a hunger so profound that she had to resort to more devious ways of seeing you.

Of course, inserting herself into your life wasn’t hard. She found a casual moment to meet you, introducing herself with a charming smile, then she invited you over to her house, just for coffee, finding ways to bond through mutual interests, she made sure to introduce you to her kids, her eyes sparkling at how quickly they grew to like you… It was easy, honestly. Before you knew it, she’d asked you for a favour, watching the boys for a couple of hours. A favour that grew into more of a non-committed babysitting arrangement.

That’s how Wanda learned about your schedule, about your job, how she soon got invited to your house. The two of you acted more like friends, than anything else and Wanda couldn’t be happier about it. Especially because, now that you had your guard down, she could easily get access to more personal information.

She’d ask you to join her at her house earlier than your scheduled babysitting appointment and she’d sit across from you, listening to you talk about your day. It almost became the norm. She’d sometimes ask you personal questions, but friends did that. So you had no problem to share that you’re single, that you liked women, a confession that brought a blush to your cheeks, feeling uncertain to mention something like that to the older woman, but she took it with a smile, which calmed your nerves.

In truth, Wanda almost jumped out of her skin with joy, knowing that little piece of information. That night, when she settled next to her window, eyes fixated on your bedroom, she watched with even more interest than before, since now she could picture what you fantasized about, while you lay in bed, touching yourself.

Yes, this was, perhaps, Wanda’s favorite part of her daily routine. She’d watch you from the shadows as you undressed, your curtains naively left open. Wanda couldn’t fathom, at first, why you left them so, considering anyone could spy on you, but she wasn’t going to complain, when she was the one hungrily watching.

You had such a beautiful body. She had admired that from day one. And when she found out how you liked to take care of yourself, she was hooked. She saw you splayed out on your bed, legs spread open, while your fingers moved inside you. You were such a pretty sight. Your back arched, your hair scattered across the pillow, your free hand teasing your nipples… How was she supposed to resist all that?

No, there was no way she could resist you, so she did what she had to, to make sure she could keep you close. And she quickly moved on from casual meetings and friendly outings to inviting you over for a day around the pool, sneaking countless pictures of you, while you were sunbathing, her fingers twitching every time she lathered sunscreen on you. She invited you for dinners, she left little treats for you, whenever you babysat for her, just so she could show you she cared. She gave you little back massages on the days you felt exhausted, she checked in on you, to make sure you’re ok. All that, and you still had no clue she wanted you!

Not to mention how often she tried to flirt, sitting next to you while you had coffee together, her thigh touching yours, while she talked, or her hands running over your arms, while she complimented you, her soft words of praise… God, she tried so hard, but you were so shy! She could see the blush on your cheeks, when she was close, she could tell she affected you, but not once did you respond. A fact, she found extremely frustrating. It made her resort to not only having to watch you through your windows, but also taking care of the burning need between her legs all by herself.

Now that just wouldn’t do. It was clear to Wanda that you were meant to be hers and after another night of hiding while she watched you touch yourself, her own hand mirroring your movements, she’d had enough. She wanted to know what you felt like, wanted to taste your lips, your skin, she wanted to breathe you in, wanted to have you under her fingertips, writhing. She wanted everything. And perhaps through some kind of miracle, fate seemed to smile upon her just a few days later.

She was asked to attend a conference out of town, and of course, she couldn’t think of a better person to entrust her children to, but you. She made sure that you’ll have everything you need, inviting you into her home with a wide smile and she gave you a copy of her schedule in case you needed anything, before she left, climbing into her car and waving at the three of you as she drove away.

She couldn’t help but smile at the notion, of all three of you, huddled together to see her off. It was the perfect picture of the family she hoped to one day have and she knew that she wouldn’t have it with anyone but you. You were perfect, smiling softly, as your eyes followed her movements, your arms wrapped around her boys. You looked so pretty and domestic, so delicate… God, how she longed this would be her reality.

Wanda couldn’t stop thinking of it all the way to her conference, the long hours of driving passing with her mind picturing countless scenarios, countless precious moments that you could share. It was so hard to shake off the thought that this wasn’t in fact real and that, despite her longing, you weren’t actually hers, that she had to sit in her car for a few minutes, grounding herself in the present, before she could join her colleagues.

The hours moved slowly, fraying her nerves, making her check her watch desperately the later it got. She could see the light of the day fading, fluorescent lights flickering to life in the building, as her colleagues droned on and on. It was getting clear that she wouldn’t be home on time and she used a quick break to give you a call.

“Hi, Wanda.” You greeted with a smile. “How’s the conference going?” You asked.

“Hi, darling.” She replied on instinct, the sound of your voice bringing a smile to her lips, despite her exhaustion, before she paused, having to remind herself that you’re not hers. “The conference is taking a little longer.” Wanda cleared her throat. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be.” She confessed. “Would you mind staying a bit longer?” She asked, her voice apologetic.

“Of course, I’ll stay.” You replied with a smile. “We’ll order pizza for dinner, we’ll play some games, maybe watch a movie. You don’t have to worry about us.” You said in a calming tone, bringing instant relief to Wanda’s overworked mind.

“Thank you, Y/N! You’re a life-saver.” Wanda said with a sigh. “If it gets too late, just settle in my bedroom.” She continued. “Just make yourself at home. I’ll do my best to be back as soon as I can.” She assured you, fingers picking at her phone’s case nervously.

“Don’t worry about us, Wanda.” She heard you say on the other end, calming, soft, almost making Wanda forget her reality again. “And drive safely. We’ll be just fine here.” You reassured her again, making the older woman sigh, as if a weight was just lifted.

Despite the shortness of the conversation, it was enough for her to feel more at ease. Enough to get her through the conference and as soon as she was able, she was back in her car and on her way to the three of you.

It was late, the roads dark and abandoned. She had to stop at a gas station to buy herself a cup of coffee, just so she could keep herself alert, her hope of making it home on time completely forgotten. She knew it would be way past the boys’ bedtime, but she hoped to at least see you.

When she reached her house, it was a little after midnight and the darkened rooms told her that all three of you were asleep, making her walk silently through the rooms, to make sure she wouldn’t wake you.

She checked on the boys first, cracking open their door, to see their sweet faces buried in their pillows, blissfully sleeping in their beds, each one tucked in with his favorite toy, making her heart swell with love. She was tempted to go in and kiss their little foreheads, but she didn’t want to disturb them, so she closed the door instead, walking further down the hall to her own bedroom.

She opened the door softly, peering in to find you tucked in. You had pulled down one of her pillows, cuddling it close to your chest, a leg swung over it. She knew it’s how you usually slept, she’d seen it enough times through her windows, yet emotions started to swirl within her at the sight. She wanted to replace the damned thing with her own body, to feel you against her, to be surrounded by your warmth, she wanted to feel your soft breaths as you slept, wanted to run her hands over your body. She thought of how much of your scent will be on her pillow tomorrow, thought about burying her face in it, while she touched herself, so she could imagine that she’s with you. Just the thought had her hands twitching.

Wanda hadn’t realized how dangerous it was, having you here, in her house, in her bed, vulnerable and asleep. Not really. Not until you were here and her imagination had started to run wild. Would you feel her if she climbed in with you? Would she be able to stop herself, if she allows herself this one small indulgence? Would you stir, if she wrapped her arms around you? Would you know, if she buried her face in your neck, while she ground herself against the swell of your ass?

Before she could take her fantasies any further, she saw you stir, her eyes widening in shock, as if caught doing something wrong, before she reminded herself that you couldn’t possibly know what she had just fantasized about.

“Go back to sleep, sweet girl.” Wanda whispered softly, clearing her throat when her voice came out raspy. “I’ll just grab some sheets for the couch.” She explained, as if she needed to give you a reason for being so close to your sleeping form. As if she got caught doing something terribly inappropriate.

It took you a moment to process her words, your mind hazy and tired, your voice rough, when you finally spoke.

“You can stay here.” You said, pulling away the covers. You wanted to say that she shouldn’t be forced to sleep on the couch, in her own house, but your mind couldn’t quite formulate the right words, so this sentence just had to do.

Wanda knew she shouldn’t. Knew it was a dangerous thing, letting someone like her be so close to you. She knew the temptation would be too great, that she wouldn’t be able to resist her urges, yet she couldn’t force herself to say no. She wanted this. No, she needed this. She wanted to spend tonight, pretending that you’re hers.

What Wanda didn’t know was that, despite your obliviousness to her secret activities, you were putting on your nightly shows just for her. Or, with her on your mind. Wanda was just so beautiful, so kind, so caring and sweet, that she had you from the very first day you met her. And the way she treated you certainly didn’t help. Her hands always found ways to touch you, compliments and praises spilling from her lips, as her eyes glided over your body. It was driving you crazy. She always left you little treats, wrote sweet notes for you to find, gave the best hugs. Not to mention you’d left her house with soaked panties so often, it was a miracle you hadn’t stained her couch yet. But you never dared tell her such a thing. You never wanted to fall from her good graces and lose her friendship, too scared that should you admit how desperately in love you’d fallen, you’d never see her, or the boys again. Yet tonight, fate her tested both of you and you were both too weak to resist.

Without much protest, Wanda pulled out a tank top and a fresh pair of panties from her drawers and she took the fastest shower of her life, before she changed quickly, so she could settle into bed next to you. You’d given up your cuddly pillow and it seemed you were once again sleeping peacefully and Wanda had to bite back a smirk, when you backed into her, your ass pressing into her.

It was almost too easy, Wanda thought to herself, as she put her arm around you. You were so warm, so soft, so exposed… She could feel that you had nothing but a t-shirt and a pair of panties on. This was the only barrier that stood between her and what she wanted. Some measly scraps of clothes. But Wanda took it slow, she nuzzled her face in your neck, breathing you in. She wasn’t sure if she was secretly taking her time, so you’d be properly asleep, so there’d be no witnesses to her depravity, so you’d never know how deep her perversions went, or how terribly she craved you. Another part of her wanted you wide awake, so tomorrow you wouldn’t be able to deny how good she made you feel. She wanted you to remember all the things she’d do to you.

In the end it was you, who made the first move. Your body betraying you, while you slept. Little moans and whimpers escaping your lips. At first she thought you might be having a bad dream, a nightmare, but soon she heard a word. Her ears strained to make it out, her arm tightening around you protectively, as if it would do any good, until she finally understood. It wasn’t a word. It was a name. Wanda. You were mewling her name like a little kitten, thighs squeezing together, trying to rut against nothing, seeking friction.

It was the last straw, really. The last bit of restraint she had, simply snapped like a twig and Wanda’s arm tightened even more, her hold so firm, you could hardly move, as she started to leave little kisses on your neck, whispering out your name, so she could bring you out of your dream and into reality.

She felt you wake up slowly, almost heard the gears in your head spin as you realized where you are and remembered Wanda coming home, remembered inviting her into your bed… Well… Her bed, really. Then you remembered what you’d just dreamt about, now more of an idea, an echo, of something distant, yet so powerful it made your cheeks heat up.

“I’m sorry I woke you.” You said, voice rough, body rigid, as if afraid that if you move, Wanda would be able to see every dirty fantasy that you’d just dreamt up.

“You don’t need to apologize.” Wanda said. Her voice was like liquid gold, smooth and seductive. “I can take care of you.” She continued, longing filling up her words. “Would you let me do that, sweet girl?” She asked, still holding you, still firmly pressed into you. “Would you let me help you feel good?”

“Wanda...” You gasped, utterly stunned. It was too much to process, and your mind was so hazy. Were you dreaming this up too? Would you wake up tomorrow, alone in Wanda’s bed and curse yourself for believing, or even hoping she would want you the same way you wanted her?

“Yes, sweetheart, it’s me.” The older woman reassured you. “You were dreaming.” She explains, patient. “You were having quite the dream about me.” She continues, speaking as if she’d seen right into your head and knew exactly what you’d dreamt about. “I must have been very good, if I made you chant my name.” She says bluntly, smirking at the way your heart quickened at her words. “Can I confess something, Y/N?” She suddenly ask, making you wait for her next words with bated breath. “Even though you were dreaming of me, even when you were saying my name, I still couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. Some imaginary Wanda was having something I want all to myself.” She told you, words whispered into the night air like a secret. “I want you all to myself.”

For a second there, you thought your heart had stopped beating. You could hardly believe it. But Wanda’s grip loosened a bit, allowing you to turn on your back, your eyes meeting, and you knew that this wasn’t another one of your dreams. This was real.

“Would you let me help you feel good, darling?” Wanda asked again, hips straddling your waist. She looked so beautiful, her blonde hair falling around her face, her green eyes, now darkened pools that never looked away, her lips parted, as if waiting to devour you. “Would you let me make you mine?”

“Please.” You almost whined. You were desperate, hands reaching up, caressing her cheek for a moment, before you were pulling her down.

Wanda’s response was instantaneous. As soon as she had your consent, she leaned down, those same, soft, pink lips you had just stared at, now claiming yours in a kiss.

She kissed you over and over again, hungry, like a barely-contained animal that was fighting to break free. She had her hands all over your body, desperate to feel as much of you as she could, caressing and stroking, eager to feel your naked skin, instead of the t-shirt you were wearing.

She broke the kiss just long enough to take the offensive item off, discarding it on the floor, without paying it much thought, before she was kissing you again, tongue invading your mouth and exploring eagerly.

Wanda was practically salivating. It wasn’t just the fact that all her fantasies were coming true. It was also how adorably submissive you were being, how eager you were for everything she gave you… It was that spark in your eyes. You weren’t putting on a show for her. You genuinely wanted her. Craved her. You were just as in love with her as she was with you. She just knew it.

Not wanting to lose anymore time, she sneaked a hand between your bodies, fingers caressing your pussy over the damp material of your panties. She was instantly rewarded with a moan, your hips canting up to meet her, desperate to feel more of the pleasure she was promising.

“Be a good girl and stay still, darling.” Wanda whispered against your lips, voice starting to vibrate with all the emotions that swirled inside her. “Unless you want me to stop?” She suggested, raising a single eyebrow at you.

“No, please don’t stop.” You mewled, shaking your head, hands clinging to her shoulders.

“Legs open.” Wanda commanded, pulling your thighs apart. She didn’t want you squeezing your legs and getting any pleasure that didn’t come from her. She’d seen you do that enough times and now that she was finally taking you for herself, she never wanted to see it again.

She took her time kissing you, fingers drawing patterns against your things for a bit, testing your will to follow her instructions, and when she saw that you’d behaved yourself, she started again. Stroking your clit through your panties, drawing slow, teasing circles over it. It was driving you crazy and you needed so much more, so it wasn’t a surprise when you finally broke down and begged.

“Wanda, please. Please, touch me.” You asked, your big eyes looking up at her pleadingly, your legs spreading even wider in a silent invitation.

“That’s my good girl.” Wanda praised, kissing you deeply, while she pulled your panties to the side. “That’s what I want you to do from now. Every time you want to feel good, I want you to come to me. I’ll take such good care of you.” She promised, voice seductive and low.

You nodded, swallowing thickly at the intensity in her eyes. You could tell she meant every word. But you weren’t given much time to think of what that could mean, her fingers gliding over your entrance, gathering the wetness accumulated there and dragging it up to your clit. She circled it gently, careful not to overwhelm you, building you up steadily.

Unable to resist much longer, her head lowered, taking a nipple into her mouth and circling it with her tongue while she stimulated you, feeling you squirm under her, your back arching into her touch and demanding more. You were a greedy little thing. Wanda liked that.

Between the way she sucked on your nipples and rubbed your clit, it didn’t take you long, before you felt yourself reaching the edge. You’d dreamt of being with her for so long, you’d pictured what it would be like so many times, you’d touched yourself to such thoughts more than you’d like to admit and now that it was finally a reality, you could hardly contain yourself. You held on to Wanda’s shoulders and hair, pulling her closer and moaning out her name, just as you had in the dream, desperate for a release.

“Are you going to come for me, baby?” Wanda detached herself from your perfect breasts just long enough to ask.

“Yes, I’m so close!” You gasped, wishing she would move her fingers just a bit faster. “Please!” You murmured on an exhale.

Wanda smirked then, starting a quick descent down your body, her slick fingers pushing inside you and filling you up perfectly. God, she loved the feeling of your walls squeezing her, fluttering around her frantically, like the wings of a butterfly.

“You feel so good.” Wanda almost growled, her fingers moving in and out of you suddenly. She couldn’t contain her excitement and quite frankly, she didn’t want to, either. “This is my pussy now.” She said with determination, refusing to give up this feeling. “No one else is allowed to touch you, you hear me?” She demanded, fingers speeding up, becoming almost rough. “Say it, baby. Say you’re mine and I’ll make you come so hard.” Wanda coaxed, her smile growing wider the more you fisted at the sheets and moaned for her.

“I’m yours, Wanda! Please, please, make me come.” You pleaded softly, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when she hit a particularly good spot.

Wanda’s body moved even lower, her head between your legs. She breathed in your scent shamelessly, making you try to hide your face from her in embracement, but she was intoxicated. You smelled so damn good. She could see her fingers disappear inside you, your wetness coating them, making her feel proud that she could turn you into such a mess.

“Don’t hide from me, baby.” She reprimanded, when she saw the way you covered your face. “Watch me.” She whispered, as if it was an invitation.

When you finally looked down, meeting her gaze, she lowered her head, tongue sticking out so she could taste you. Her lips wrapped around your clit, her soft, wet mouth enveloping you and making you almost scream at how good it felt. You couldn’t hold yourself back anymore. You were on the edge and with a few delicious strokes, Wanda pushed you over it.

A tidal wave of pleasure washed over you, and you bit your lip in an attempt not to scream. It felt so good being full of her, being stroked by her tongue. It was better than what your fingers could offer, better than any other lover you’d had. And she kept moving in that same rhythm, milking every last bit of pleasure you could offer, until you were spent.

Wanda could tell you were done, but she wasn’t even close to being done with you. She had barely gotten a taste of you and her tongue continued to lap at your clit in eager strokes.

“Shhh, it’s ok, sweetheart, you’re ok. Let me clean you up.” She spoke softly, soothing you and quieting down your whines of protest.

She removed her fingers, but soon enough her tongue replaced them at your opening. She lapped at you gently, doing everything in her power to contain her hunger for you, but her hands held you down firmly, ready to stop any attempt for you to get away. She would bruise you if she held on any harder than that, you both knew it, but neither of you cared. You would wear her marks proudly. Just as you would take the overstimulation, if it meant she would keep touching you.

“You taste so good.” Wanda groaned, detaching herself just long enough to speak the words, before returning with renewed hunger.

You moaned when her tongue returned back to your clit and you had to force yourself to stay still, to take everything she wanted to give you. That’s what good girls do. Good girls take what’s given to them. And it wasn’t hard. The craving within you returned, growing harder to ignore with each stroke of her tongue. God, she was so damn good with her mouth.

“So good.” You sighed, when she lapped over a particularly good spot.

You could feel her smile as she looked up at you, repeating the motion over and over again, feeling your body relax under her fingers, now eager for her ministrations.

“Such a good girl.” Wanda praised, instantly spotting the way the blood rose up to your cheeks. She had a feeling you’d like it.

Her mouth returned back to your clit, feeling it twitch under her tongue in desperation. She wondered if you were always like this. Always so wet and needy. If you had been this way while she flirted with you, while she talked to you and complimented you, when her hands lingered… She wondered how you held out so long, without begging her to fuck you. But it didn’t matter. She had you now. And she could tell you were getting close again, your fingers had found their way in her hair and you were greedily pulling her closer, back arching with pleasure, your moans growing louder.

“As much as I love to hear you, darling, you have to be quieter. We wouldn’t want you to wake the boys.” Wanda reminded.

Her words made you bite your lower lip, trying to stay quiet while the pressure inside you kept building. Her tongue made circles and figure-eight’s, swirling perfectly and sending sparks of pleasure through your body. Every part of you she touched instantly responded, sending you in a spiral of neediness.

Your hands pulled her impossibly closer, feeling yourself reach the edge. Your back arched and a few strangled pleas’ fell from your lips, before you finally came, your mouth hanging open in a scream that never left your throat.

Wanda helped you ride it out, her tongue never stopping, until the hands that used to pull her closer, started to try and push her away. She did so with a smirk, crawling over your body so she could plant a few soft kisses on your face. She was tempted to keep going, just so she could show you that she decides when you’ve had enough, not you, but knowing what she had in mind for you next, she decided to take pity on you.

She moved off the bed after a minute, instantly seeing the concern in your eyes, when she left you and she smiled gently, before speaking.

“You just lie down and rest, dear. I’ll be right back.” She reassured you, discarding her top and panties and moving quickly and efficiently through the room, opening her special drawer with toys, so she could pull out a harness and her favorite dildo.

She made a show of putting it on in front of you, pulling out a bottle of lube from the bedside drawer and coating the toy with it. Not that you needed it, but she liked to be safe. When she was ready, she stood beside the bed, tall and proud and ready to pounce on you.

“Legs open, darling. Show me that pretty pussy.” Wanda demanded as she stroked her strap suggestively.

You did as you were told, spreading your legs wider than they already were, so you could give her a good view, but it didn’t seem to satisfy her.

“I said, show me your pussy.” She repeated, voice growing stern.

Timidly, a little unsure, you reached down, fingers parting your pussy lips, until you were all on display for her. It felt a little obscene, a little embarrassing too, showing yourself to Wanda in such an intimate way, but she seemed to like it, a pleased smile appearing on her face.

She crawled over the bed, her eyes following the length of your legs, then your thighs, zeroing in on your pussy in a manner that could only be described as predatory. But instead of tearing you apart, she was going to fuck you, until you couldn’t cum anymore.

“Such a pretty thing.” Wanda admired you, her hand reaching out. She dragged a single finger through your wetness, her eyes fixated on yours. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?” She suddenly asked. “How many nights I watched you touch yourself and dreamt it could be me. How hard I made myself cum, while you had your legs spread wide, just like this.” She emphasized, by spreading your legs even wider, watching the muscles strain. “But you’re not going to do such things anymore, are you?” She asked, as she started to drag the tip of her fake cock over your slick folds, getting it wet with your juices. ”Once I’m done with you…” She started off, leaning over you, so she could whisper the last of her words directly in your ear. “Nothing will ever be as good.” She promised, guiding the tip of her cock to your opening and pushing inside.

Your hands flew to her back instantly, your big, doe eyes looking up at her, while you nodded your agreement. You could hardly speak, the feeling of your walls parting for her, accepting her eagerly and squeezing around her was so overwhelmingly good, you could hardly even think, let alone process the fact that apparently, she’s been watching your nightly activities. All you wanted was this. For her steady thrusts to never stop, for her lips to keep exploring up and down your neck, planting kisses on every spot they could reach. You could tell she was leaving marks too, hickeys that marked you as hers. It was heavenly. And as her thrusts grew harder, your moans grew louder, your restraint entirely forgotten as you gave yourself completely to the moment.

“You need to be quiet, honey.” Wanda reminded again. “If you can’t keep quiet, I’ll have to gag you.” She warned. It sounded like a threat, but her eyes sparkling with excitement told you otherwise. You could tell she would love to do that and a part of you wanted to know what that would feel like. “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you.” She noticed right away, an eyebrow arching up at the idea. “Stick your tongue out.” She demanded, one of her palms reaching up to hold your jaw, while you complied. “That’s right.” She nodded, her thumb running across your lower lip before it disappeared in your mouth. “Suck, baby.” She gasped, already feeling your eager tongue swirl over her digit, your lips closing around it hungrily.

You looked so beautiful like that, so content, so blissfully lost in pleasure. You were sucking on her thumb happily, your hands starting to claw at her back as she kept on thrusting inside you. Your legs had found their way around her too, your whole body pulling her in.

“Such a talented little mouth.” She mused, not missing the small blush that started to form on your cheeks. “I wonder what else you would like to have in there.” She pretended to think. “My nipples, maybe? They’re so sensitive, you know? I bet they’d feel amazing with your lips around them. Or maybe my pussy?” She suggested, feeling you hum happily in agreement. “I bet you love eating pussy.” She said with a smirk. “Maybe I’ll even get you to clean off my strap, when I’m done with you.” Wanda said with a spark in her eye. “Wouldn’t you like that? To suck me off. I’ll even get one of those squirting straps for you next time, so I can give you a treat after.” She thought out loud. “I bet you’d like that very much.”

All you could do was nod, eager to agree. You would love to get to taste her pussy, you would happily suck her off too. Not to mention sucking on her gorgeous nipples… The thought had you reeling. You wondered if perhaps she’d ever let you fall asleep while you sucked on them, all tucked in, with her warm blankets around you and her hot body pressed against you. That would be simply heavenly. But you didn’t dare say a word, too scared that she’ll take her thumb from your mouth and leave it empty, something you didn’t want happening at all. Especially when you felt so full right now. Both your mouth and your pussy were getting filled up by Wanda and each second was getting you closer to yet another climax.

Wanda could feel you get close and the pressure of the harness against her clit was driving her wild with desire, her pussy dripping with arousal. She wanted to come while she fucked you, picturing that she could cum inside you and fill you up. She pictured her fingers playing with the mess she left behind, pushing it all back inside, when it eventually leaks out, overstimulating your pussy. But that didn’t matter. She would make it all better… She just really wanted to be able to get off, while she fucked you, but the pressure of the base of the dildo against clit just wasn’t enough.

As another orgasm crashed through you, you were thankful for the fingers still in your mouth, otherwise you would have screamed, wave after wave of pleasure overwhelming your senses. Nothing had ever felt as good as Wanda’s touch and you were quickly getting addicted to the way she so easily managed to coax you into cumming, no matter how much you had already taken for her.

When you were done, she pulled out, carefully detaching herself from you and tossing the harness on the floor. When she climbed back over you, you thought she’d like to cuddle, or that perhaps she’ll straddle your face, a prospect that had you licking your lips in anticipation, but she straddled you instead, manoeuvring your body until, she could position her pussy on yours.

When her wet pussy first made contact with yours, you squirmed, feeling overstimulated, but Wanda only straddled you more securely, pinning you under her and using her hands to restrain you.

“Oh, don’t try to run from me now…” She said with a smirk, her pussy making contact with yours again. “I made you cum so many times tonight. Are you going to deny me, hm? Are you going to be ungrateful, sweetheart?” She asked, her words condescending and sweet.

You only shook your head, your fingers intertwining with hers in a silent agreement.

“Wouldn’t you like me to eat you instead?” You offered weakly, still hoping to spare yourself.

“No, darling, I want to feel you. I want to come just like this. I’m already close, baby.” She reassured you, even though she didn’t much care if that brought you any solace. “You can take it for me.”

“I can take it.” You nodded, voice strained and so small. She loved it. Loved the prospect of having you utterly spent and exhausted, so she could take care of you.

“That’s right. You just lay there and let me use you. I know you can take it for me.” Wanda confirmed proudly. “You’re such a good girl.” She praised, one of her hands stroking your hair lovingly. “Such a good, sweet girl, taking everything I give you. I’m so proud of you honey.” She murmured sweetly, lulling your brain into a submissive haze.

You hung on to every word she uttered, getting off on the praise and the warmth of her approval, your clit responding with a throb, when she started to rub hers over it. You loved it. The way she looked at you, the way she held you, the way she caressed you, her ministrations purposefully gentle and slow.

You could do nothing but surrender, happy to be used in this way, to see her close her eyes in pleasure as she continued to grind against you. Her breasts hung above you, full and gorgeous and begging for your attention and you lifted your head up, capturing a nipple between your lips and letting your tongue swirl over it.

Wanda’s response was a surprised gasp that quickly turned into a moan, one of her hands cradling your head as she continued to grind her pussy on yours.

“There you go.” She sighed happily. “Keep sucking, baby. You make me feel so good.”

She let you suck and lick over her nipples, loving the content expression she could see on your face as you did it. You looked so blissed out and she knew she could finally focus on getting an orgasm for herself, her hips picking up speed and grinding more firmly against you.

“You feel divine, darling.” She said, as she held you. “You’re gonna make me cum so hard.” She announced. “Don’t stop sucking.” She encouraged, pulling you even closer to herself, her fingers in your hair.

She moaned softly, excitement shooting through her at the thought of just how dirty this was. She had you all pinned underneath her, using your pussy to get off, her juices mixing with your own, while she had you sucking on her nipples.

“Fuck, I’m close.” Wanda gasped, her movements getting more frantic as she chased her high. “Are you going to come with me, baby? I want you to come with me.” She said with a note of urgency.

You tried to say something, your words muffled, as your face was being shoved into Wanda’s perfect tits. A part of you really wanted to come with her, feeling safe and protected in your current position. You felt enveloped by Wanda, by her taste, her scent, her voice, the heat of her body on top of yours. It was perfect really. Then there was the other part of you, that felt utterly fucked out already and entirely unable to take another orgasm. But as soon as you felt her body go rigid, her stuttering thrusts getting erratic and then almost stopping as she came, your body decided for you. You let go, your orgasm crashing over you and making you moan.

Wanda had to fight back a scream as she finally came, her clit twitching and throbbing as it was being rubbed over your own. She couldn’t picture a better way for herself, loving how close you were, how intimate it felt to get off like this. She loved it even more that you came with her.

Your orgasm was much shorter than hers, your whole body utterly spent already, but you held on, taking the overstimulation that sent almost painful jolts through you, and waiting for her to finish, wanting her to enjoy herself as much as she liked.

When she was done, Wanda was kind enough to pull away from your pussy, finally having mercy on you, after she saw the exhausted look on your face.

She stood up briefly, getting you a glass of water and she watched you drink it, before she returned to bed, trying to snuggle you and finally let you rest, but feeling you resist her.

“I didn’t even get to taste you.” You murmured gently, the cutest pout she’d ever seen appearing on your face and making her let out a laugh.

“Oh, don’t worry, you’ll get to taste my pussy too, baby.” Wanda reassured you. “You’ll get a chance to show me how good you are with your tongue. Now, rest. You’ll need your strength tomorrow.” She whispered in your ear, the arm around you pulling you closer to her.

She watched you fall asleep, eyes sparkling and full of adoration, fingers playing with your hair calmingly, until you fully relaxed in her hold, breathing evening out.

“You’re just perfect, aren’t you.” She spoke softly, memorizing each detail of your face. “All mine now.”

#writing #lesbian #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff smut #bottom!reader #top!wanda #scarlet witch

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sleepinthrumyalarms · 1 year

Text

— the hunter or the prey

pairing: wednesday addams x fem!oni!reader

warnings: smut, lesbian sex, face-sitting, roughness, mentions of blood, beastial behavior, all characters are aged-up

summary: your bloody hunt comes to an end, and you return to wednesday in the middle of the night — but a true hunter never rests

word count: 1.3k

a/n: in case you aren't familiar with my oni!reader series: every full blood moon (y/n) gains her true demonic form and runs wild in the woods next to nevermore

When you come back from your hunt, the image is always as beastly as it gets — pupils wide, teeth bare, blood staining almost every inch of your body. You're hazed, mind running wild, and it feels like coming down from a euphoric high, hot lava is boiling in your veins, the adrenaline pumping so vigorously you can taste it on your tongue.

It's the image of a perfect predator having satisfied her needs — one of them, at least, because the most animal, most primal one is yet to be.

The lights are off when you step into the room, slitted eyes shining in the darkness, and Wednesday turns her head to take a look at her late night guest. The ravenette isn't put off by your slouched gait, by the way the sharp claws on your hand dig into the wood of the doorframe as you come inside, trying to steady yourself — uninvited, but not unwelcomed — by the way your breath comes in small clouds of vapor — languid and heavy, leaving your mouth and nose as if you breathe fire and spit flames.

There was another feature that tied you to something akin to a wild dragon — your appetite could never be satisfied.

“(Y/n).”

You turn your head at the sound of your name, gaze landing on the small girl where she sits on the bed, wearing nothing but a dark oversized shirt – your shirt – and you feel saliva gather in your mouth. Her hair is undone from its usual braids, a bit messy, and if your mind wasn’t clouded you’d feel bad for waking her up.

“How was the hunt?” She asks, voice laced with sleepiness. She's tired but always wide awake for your arrival.

You don’t reply. Taking a few heavy steps closer to the ravenette, you bury your face into the crook of her neck, hands moving to rest on her thighs. Wednesday smells delicious, milky osmanthus mixed with something woodsy, the aftermath of a bath she must’ve taken before going to bed – you take a deep breath and feel the light traces of your own scent above hers.

“Need you,” you mutter lowly, your breath grazing Wednesday's skin and making her shiver, “Need you right now.”

Even in your half – unadequate state, you don’t push the girl. She doesn't deny you though — thin hands rest on your shoulders, and her breath hitches when you lift her up to switch places, letting her sit on your lap as you find your place on the bed.

Your shoulders rise and fall with every intake of air you do, and Wednesday's eyes trail down to the rest of your half - clothed frame — your haori is draped over your top, a pathetic attempt of seeking some decency of a human despite never ever being close to one, though it indeed does good work at covering you up. But she can still see it — the plain between your breasts, where the bones of your ribs are almost visible — her favorite place to touch, to kiss, and now that it's covered in blood, she'd love to lick it, up and closer to your neck, where you'd growl like a threatened animal when the ravenette would press her lips to your jugular, feeling your racing pulse.

Wednesday makes the right choice when she leaves the biting completely to you, because your maw is so huge it closes around her whole neck, and she knows that you could snap it in half like a twig if you wished to, the danger an incredible turn on. You nip at the soft flesh there, and her grip on your shoulders tightens before the ravenette pushes you down on your back. Your head hits the soft pillow encased in silky black linen, and the girl above you moves to rest on your middle, palm on your bicep to support herself. A small gasp leaves her mouth when your clawed hands wrap around her thighs, pulling her closer to your face with ease.

"No need for impatience, (Y/n). I'm all yours to have." She scolds softly, fingers grasping onto the bedframe to steady herself.

The words spur you on even more — tightening your hold, you press her closer and right onto your eager mouth.

The electric shock of pleasure is so sudden, running from her core up to her spine — Wednesday throws her head back, a silent moan on her dark lips, and her fingers tangle themselves in your disheveled hair. The feeling of your mouth on her heat is heavenly, almost too much, making her bite at her plump lip to keep the quiet whines in.

You’re surrounded by Wednesday – her scent, her taste, the way she feels under your hold, but you still can’t get enough of her — you growl into her wetness, the sound sending pleasurable tingles up the ravenette’s body, your claws digging into the milky flesh of her thighs to press her impossibility close to you.

"Good girl... Just like that..." She murmurs the praise, looking down at where you're practically buried in her warmth, and brushes some stray hairs from your face. You open your mouth to welcome her slick, tusks catching at her throbbing clit, long hot tongue sliding in, and Wednesday shudders and sighs, her walls fluttering around the rough muscle, the feeling of your teeth against her cunt so incredibly erotic.

The ravenette isn't really into riding your face in her exhausted state — she lets you do all the work, and you gladly oblige, slurping at her pretty pussy and practically gulping her down, and she closes her eyes, relishing in the feeling. And you — you're relishing in the taste of Wednesday on your tongue, sliding your tongue between her puffy folds to lick at her like a woman starved.

"You'd think a whole night spent hunting would satisfy you, but... there's hunger in you only I can sate."

And she's right — you're hungry for her, hungry like you've never been, ready to devour the small ravenette whole like she is your last meal before your head rolls down off a guillotine.

The ravenette’s breathing becomes labored, her thighs clenching around your head, and her hand moves to grab at the hem of her shirt, raising the cloth to her mouth and muffling her whimpers. You don’t let the new area of exposed skin go to waste – your claws rake up Wednesday’s thighs to her hips, right where she’s extremely sensitive, the touch leaving goosebumps in its wake, and hold her there, palms pressing into the pale plush of the girl’s body.

“Oh, (Y/n),” she moans into the fabric when your tongue slides over her clit, lips wrapping around it to suck gently, and her grip on your hair turns rough, back arching prettily. Her syrupy arousal drips down your chin, and you lap at her hungrily, helping her ride the orgasm out.

Wednesday pulls away, scooching back a bit to sit on your chest, letting you breathe, but you growl as she does so, and she tuts at you queitly.

“Patience. You take what I give you, cara mia,” her hand slides up to your maw, thumb reaching to lift your top lip over your canine, “Or do you want me to put a muzzle on that greedy mouth of yours?”

The tusk is almost twice the size of her finger, but you won’t ever dare bite the ravenette – your tongue moves against her palm instead, long muscle sliding over her pale skin, and Wednesday smiles.

She’ll gladly give you seconds – all in good time, of course.

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miinatozakiii · 9 months

Text

moonlight serenade

kindergarden teacher!sana x fem!reader. (pt. 3)

summary: sana finds you even cuter after seeing you in shark pj's, you two are hopeless lesbians, you drive sana home and it's more romantic than it should be – oh my god you're not a mother?

wc: 5.3k

warnings: mentions of food, i think that's it ; reader has tattoos ; u two are hopeless romantics ; lesbians being lesbians

pt 1. pt2. pt4.

a/n: I love jazz. I've been listening to jazz in a bakery/cafe while writing each part actually. pls listen to moonlight serenade by ella fitzgerald, it's a work of art and one of my all time favorites :-D

(are lyrics in fics corny? I have no idea. I just love jazz and thought this song was perfect for this part.)

trying to write as much before I move! enjoy ;-]

“Are you actually serious?” Jihyo says, placing her cup of coffee down. Sana pinches the bridge of her nose and lets out a small breath,

“Jihyo, I don’t know what to do,” Sana says defeatedly.

Two months have passed by and that means two months of seeing you every now and then. Johnny, your brother, has returned from his business trip, so he ended up being the one to take Hana to school in the morning and the one to pick her up in the afternoon. You, however, were not going to miss the chance to see this lovely woman named Sana. 5'4 inches of pure beauty and charm. So, you convinced him to let you take Hana to school once or twice a week just to see who you think is the woman blessed by Aphrodite.

I mean, the temperature is dropping, and the warmth that spreads through your body when you see Sana is definitely something you need for this weather.

Every week Sana would see you in the morning once or twice. You two would exchange your friendly greetings before Hana goes off to chat with her new best friend Jiyeong, you’d stare at each other all lovingly (you two are oblivious, it’s sick), and then part ways. Rinse and repeat, reuse, reduce, recycle, etc, this went on for two damn months.

Sana would never say anything more, she wouldn’t flirt, she wouldn’t ask you out, and she wouldn’t do anything but be friendly. She still believed that you were literally her student’s mother, and there was a guilt that got heavier every time her heart did a flip from seeing you.

Each interaction sparked a small flame in your hearts, and just before it grew bigger, you’d wave goodbye; the flame would die again, never growing large enough to really warm you two the way you both needed.

“Sana… I honestly have no clue what to say,” Jihyo starts, and she looks at the young teacher in front of her, practically losing her mind, “I mean, you’re sure she’s her mom?”

“Yes, I mean, the girl’s dad and her take turns dropping her off and whatnot. I'm not going to be more delusional than I already am trying to find anything that makes her seem less like a mother, I mean, it's clear that she is the mother of that girl.” Sana explains, and her heart sinks a little, “I guess her dad is nice, though, and tall, I don’t know.” Sana groans.

Jihyo watches Sana stick out her signature little pout and swirl the coffee in her cup,

“Well… There are always others, no?”

“I don’t know, it’s just something about her Jihyo,” and Jihyo listens with interest, “I just, ever since we met, I feel like, there was some kind of… god this is so embarrassing…” Sana trails off, putting a hand on her forehead and pinching her eyes shut from slight embarrassment. Sana reminisces the way you’d joke about Hana making your wrinkles appear if she kept it up with her little antics, how you’d make her laugh at your little comments, and the way your eyes scan the room for her in the mornings and -

“You’ve been a hopeless romantic since we were roommates, I’ve probably heard worse.” Jihyo sighs, and she reminisces about the days when Sana and she had to share a small single-bedroom dorm, and how she would gush about anything and romanticize everything.

“Look, she’s just so pretty… Maybe we could just be friends? She’s sweet.” Sana suggests, and Jihyo laughs in disbelief.

“You want to be friends with someone’s mother that you also, or, might have a crush on?”

“Maybe.”

You let yourself in through the front door with your spare keys, hanging your jacket on the coat hanger and sliding your shoes off, setting them on the shoe rack.

There’s a faint melody of a slow, soft song playing, and there’s a low voice that hums along to the old tune. It fits the atmosphere of the quiet house on a Thursday night.

You creep through the hall quietly to see your brother in the dimmed kitchen washing a few plates. He’s in a navy long-sleeved shirt with its sleeves rolled up so water doesn't temporarily shade his apparel, and loose shorts that go down to just above his knees. His hair is a bit messy, and he looks nerdy with his circular black glasses on. You laugh at the sight of him in his pajamas and slides, he jumps a little and turns his head in surprise after hearing you.

“My god, at least text me.” He sighs, and you chuckle at him. You make your way over to the area where he is and sit across from him at the kitchen island, he directs his attention back to the dirty plate in his hand, “Did you need something?”

“Kinda.”

“You know where everything is, just grab it if you need it. Also, be quiet, Hana just fell asleep.” Johnny responds, turning off the sink and placing the white dish in the dishwasher.

“It’s not a physical thing, I just… maybe some advice, or at least your thoughts.”

“...On?”

“There’s this girl,”

"Oh," He mumbles quietly, “You’re ready to date again?”

“I think so,” You begin, “She’s different you know. Not like that girl in high school. She’s actually the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and she’s sweet and nice and caring and-”

“How long have you known her?”

“Two months...”

“So it is Ms. Minatozaki.” Johnny scoffs, though, not in an insulting way, more of an ‘I fucking knew it’ way. He picks up a rag and starts to wipe it on the countertop.

You look at your taller brother in surprise, “How did you know?”

“Hana tells me all about you two y’know? Why else would you willingly wake up earlier than you should to drop off my daughter at school? And, she tells me that you ask about her teacher?” He laughs, “You’re not good at hiding things, never have been.”

“Hey!” You say defensively, and a little too loud as it makes him put a finger to his lips,

“Lower your voice.”

“Sorry.” You mumble, laying your head on your palm. Johnny turns his body to face you instead of the counter connected to the sink that he had previously been wiping,

“Soooo, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know Johnny.”

“You think she likes you?” He asks, genuinely curious about your new interest. Johnny grabs two glasses of water and places them on the counter, then sits down to the right of you, making sure to give his full attention to you.

Johnny has always been a good brother, and you two had your necessary brother-sister moments where you were at each other's throats; in fact, you’d bicker all the damn time and it even went on into high school. However, you two always had each other’s backs. Even when you hated each other there would be moments where you two were the only ones who understood each other, and sometimes time seemed to stop when you’d talk about the deeper topics and anything bothering you two.

And so, time slows down as Johnny listens to your rant.

“We’re friendly, I mean, what am I thinking? I feel slightly delusional I won’t even lie,” You sigh, “She’s so pretty and sweet and I just, I really want to get to know her. Like ever since I met her I felt like… It’s so corny but I swear the world literally paused for a moment.” You add, shifting your look away from your older brother.

How are you supposed to tell your brother that this woman that you’ve known for two months is making you lose some sleep, and, by the way, you haven’t even had a full conversation with her either. You think of the woman that you go out of your way to run into and see for ten minutes a day total, twice a week. You think of her radiant smile that rivals the sun's rays, the voice that’s more soothing than any song on your playlist, and the way her eyes light up when she sees you, and -

“You’re head over heels, huh,” Johnny says, amused.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I barely know her.” you lie,

“Well, you could.”

“And how am I supposed to do that? ‘Oh hey I think of you day and night just because I think you’re cute and nice and I think I almost overfilled a cup of cold brew while daydreaming about you, uh maybe we could go out sometime?’”

“Maybe don’t say that much, dumbass.” Your older brother says playfully, “Just start with a compliment or something, you seriously suck at this romance stuff.”

“Thanks,” You mutter, rolling your eyes, “But what if she thinks that’s weird? I’m literally her student’s aunt.”

“Maybe,” Johnny sighs and finishes the water in his cup, “Maybe you should get some rest, y/n. If you lose sleep over this woman who you’ve never had a full conversation with, imagine how much sleep you’ll lose when you finally do.” He stands up and makes his way over back to the sink to rinse the glass cup you had gotten him for his last birthday, “So, maybe you should catch up on rest now and rant to me when you finally have the balls to actually make a conversation with her, then I could actually give you some decent advice."

“You suck.”

“I want to give you my feedback and advice, but this is literally all I can say right now: ask her out and come back to me.”

“This is too much.”

“You’re a loser, y/n.” Johnny jokes, and he takes the cup that you hadn’t touched away and then rinses it.

You don’t even get to plan anything or prepare yourself for your next interaction with Sana, and you look stupid when you run into her too.

You’re at the nearest convenience store in an oversized t-shirt that was your brothers’, the gray shirt with a shark graphic on it that was too comfy to not steal. Paired with that tee were plaid shorts and white socks with more sharks on them that you had gotten from Hana last Christmas, along with grayish-green clogs on your feet.

You were dressed like a college student that was on a budget, and of course, you had to run into the woman of your dreams at a convenience store at 12:24 am on a Friday night while looking stupid.

Sana had run into you while you scanned the drinks section. You didn’t notice her calling out your name while there was pop music playing in your earbuds, and when you turned to see who had tapped on your shoulder your eyes widened.

Sana held a small basket in her hand, and she wore a purple sweatshirt along with gray sweatpants, much more presentable than what you were wearing. Your face goes red as you realize that she’s caught you looking ridiculous, all while she looks perfect.

Her hair is clipped up and some strands fall over her face, and she looks so unbelievably adorable just standing there smiling at you.

“Hi.” She says, looking you up and down.

She scans your whole look and gets a little flustered by how precious you look. Your hair is messed up and disheveled at the roots, as if you’d just gotten out of bed and ran a hand through it. The oversized t-shirt drowned your figure in comfort, and your inked, toned forearms were revealed. The t-shirt you wore had a cute shark graphic on it, Sana had guessed that your daughter had something to do with why you had that shirt. She smiles at the sight of you in such comfy clothing, looking lovely as ever while you stare back at her.

“Hey.” You respond, taking out an earbud,

“It’s surprising to see you here y/n,” Sana giggles, “Thirsty?” She questions, and she’s peeking at the vitamin water in one of your hands.

“I guess so.” You mumble, biting the inside of your cheek and putting a hand in your pocket, “It’s pretty surprising to see you here too.” You add. Surprising, but wow, definitely lucky. When would you ever see her looking so comfy and out of her workplace looking so cute?

Sana giggles and you feel like a huge gust of wind has hit you so suddenly, about to hit you off your feet. You smile brightly.

“I couldn’t sleep, I wanted something to snack on,” Sana shrugs. You glance at her basket and see some spicy turtle chips in the basket,

“Eating something spicy at this time is new to me, most people would have something warm, no?”

“Maybe.” Sana mutters, “I like your outfit, by the way.”

Your ears turn red again and you look down at your clothing, “Yeah… It’s a shirt from Hana’s dad, haha, that’s why it’s so big.”

Sana’s heart sinks a bit at the mention of Hana’s dad.

Sana and Johnny had met other times, and Sana thought he was nice, sweet, and she can't lie he does has a nice smile, but not as nice as yours. He treated Hana with care; Sana could tell he loved her dearly, as much as you did.

“I see, I like it. The two of them must love sharks, she always draws them during class.”

“She and her dad are very similar, lots of shark things in the house. I prefer koalas.” You reply. You wonder why the hell you’re mentioning koalas at this time, at this moment in this place, but it doesn’t matter because it seems to spark some kind of conversation with the woman in front of you, and Sana thinks it’s cute, actually.

“Koalas?” She questions amusingly, "They’re cute. I think hamsters are cuter, though.”

“hamsters?”

“Mhm.”

You chuckle at her response and wonder, how does she get cuter every time? Sana turns her head to eye at the drinks, then makes her way to the refrigerator door to grab one for herself, she grabs a canned iced americano and turns her body to face you again,

“Do you live near? I feel like I would’ve run into you sooner if you did.” Sana says, looking at the can in her right hand.

“Uh - no. The nearest convenience store closes at 12, so I just drove around until I found one open.” You answer, “Do you live near?” You ask. You wonder if the question is too weird or creepy to ask, I mean, this is a woman you don’t know too well, and would it be weird to ask a person you find so attractive where they live?

“Kind of. It’s a fifteen-minute walk, maybe less, give or take. The one right next to my place is closed too.”

“You walked? At this time?” You question her. Worry takes over your whole body because she walked alone? In the dark? At this hour?

Sana just hums in response, “Yeah, the neighborhood is really quiet and not too bad.”

“Still, you should’ve driven or something.”

“I don’t drive.” She simply states. You furrow your brows. She just stares back at you with those big brown eyes, it almost makes you forget about worrying.

She walks past you and heads to the self-checkout, you follow. There's a sudden idea that pops up in your mind, and you usually wouldn't be so bold to suggest or ask anything so direct, but it's twelve in the morning and your mind is too scrambled to make or think of any decent decisions.

“Sana,” You murmur, voice just barely above a whisper as you find the confidence for what you’re about to say, “Uh- this might be a little weird to ask, but, um…” You stutter, why the hell are you stuttering? She’s staring at you with those large espresso-colored eyes that remind you of your job at the moment, and the longer she stares back at you the more your mind races. This woman has your heart doing flips and pounding through your chest, you can barely manage your thoughts and words,

“Yes?”

“Uh, could I take you home?” You finally say, barely managing to make eye contact with her and it’s a humbling experience as your usually leveled (at least you think) demeanor crumbles under the presence of this woman.

“You don’t have to. It’s late and I don’t want to cause you too much trouble, y/n.”

“I’d be much more troubled if I knew you were walking home alone at this time, I insist.”

“Alright then. Let me pay first.”

You pause for a moment and Sana just turns back around, scanning the chips and canned coffee she had in her basket. It’s almost 12:30 now, and a pretty girl is letting you take her home. This wonder of the world is letting your disheveled self take her home.

“You have a nice car,” Sana says. She's never had a thing for cars or really knew too much about them. She's only paid attention to Jihyo’s five-seat white Lexus and the black, modified BMW that belonged to her childhood friend Momo. Other cars don't really matter or stand out to her, but Sana’s interest in you grows when she first sees the green Mercedes. Five-seated car looks nice and neat from the outside, for some reason, it really catches her attention. When she sits in the passenger seat she’s hit with the smell of coconut and vanilla. There are two things hung from the internal rearview mirror: One, a small keychain of a koala, and two, a picture of you and Johnny.

Sana can’t help but smile at the picture of you two, you two look happy.

You start the engine and put on your seatbelt before putting the drink you bought in the cup holder. You press on the screen in your car and a slow jazz melody plays. Of course, it had to be a love song.

“I’ve never seen your tattoos up close, they’re really pretty.” Sana suddenly says as you start to move out of where you were parked. Her eyes scan from your upper forearm, where the tattoo started, and down to where it ended just below your wrist, “I only saw a bit of them when you had dropped Hana off the first day.” Sana added.

She wanted to add on about how she also noticed the tattoo just under your knuckles too, and how she found the ink on your skin so endearing. She wanted to tell you all about the things she found attractive about you. From the noticeable things like your bold features to the little things she’s noted in her mind from every meeting. The way you’d always run a hand through your beautiful hair once or twice, the eye contact you couldn’t hold with her, the way you bit the inside of your cheek when you were quiet, the way your fingers often tugged at the beaded bracelet on your hand, how cute it was to watch you say bye to your daughter, and various other little details. Sana wanted to tell you all about those things, but that would be incredibly weird, right?

“Oh, yeah, thank you. I got the tattoo on my forearm a couple of years ago. Hana picked out the butterfly on my hand last year, actually.” You say, looking at the screen of your car as you back up a bit, making sure you don’t hit anything.

“Oh, also, you can type the address on my phone. Here.” You add, handing her the device. Sana types in her address quickly and it pops up on the screen. It’s a quick 4-minute drive, and you both wished it were a bit longer.

The music continues to play softly while you two sit in silence, and it somehow makes the mood a bit more intimate whilst the faint sound of Ella Fitzgerald's voice echoes,

I stand and I wait

For the touch of your hand in the June night

The roses are sighing

A moonlight serenade

Your breath hitches, “Um, you can change the song if you want…” You say embarrassed. Sana shakes her head and mumbles,

“It’s alright. I like it, It’s cute.” She admits, making you blush a bit. You grip the wheel a little tighter as you stop at the red light. The heartfelt lyrics fill the air with a romantic hum, and only the tender melody is heard as you sit together in silence.

The stars are aglow

And tonight how their light sets me dreaming

My love, do you know

That your eyes are like stars brightly beaming?

Sana’s heartbeat skips a little knowing that you listen to such romantic melodies, and she wonders if you love as romantically as such songs. Her mind wanders to the thought of you serenading her in the moonlight, or serenading her in a more domestic setting. The sudden thought of you humming along to these tunes while you cooked or cleaned allowed made her cheeks flush a bit. Jihyo was right: Sana is a hopeless romantic. She’s too far in to get out of the hole of these feelings, and her heart aches a little, the guilt piles up.

You on the other hand are freaking out.

Sana likes your lovey-dovey taste in music, and she seems content (Sana's having a crisis). Maybe you do have a chance with this woman, I mean, she’s already in your car and letting you take her home. Maybe you can do this again, maybe you can listen to songs like this together in a more intimate setting rather than your car, and maybe you can do more than just listen to Ella Fitzgerald together. All the maybe’s in your head are cut short as you reach her place and park in front of her apartment complex.

“We’re here.” You mutter, and you wish you weren’t.

Sana nods and reaches for the eco-friendly bag she had set down, unbuckles her seatbelt, then turns so that her eyes stare into yours with a new intensity. She puts her left hand on your right hand that had been gripping the gear shift ever so gently, your jaw tenses a bit and your left hand that had been on the wheel tightens its hold once more. She looks from your eyes to your lips, then back to your eyes again. Your heart is suddenly an acrobat the way it's doing so many flips.

“Thank you again, I appreciate it.” She says, and her other hand is on the handle of the door, ready to get out, but she doesn’t.

“Anytime, I didn’t want you to be out alone at this time.” you wonder how that sentence leaves your mouth so calmly because your heart is beating at least two hundred times per minute.

Sana’s lips curve into a smile again and you relax a bit,

“Well,” Sana starts, and she opens the door, “I’ll see you soon?”

“I’m picking up Hana on Monday.”

“Great. See you then, y/n.” She finally says, turning away and getting out of the car. You two look at each other again and your eye contact lingers a bit before she finally closes the door, waves, and turns to head inside the apartment complex.

The music continues to play, and your heart longs for her once again.

I stand at your gate

And I sing you a song in the moonlight

A love song, my darling

A moonlight serenade

A week passes after this encounter, and Sana is currently giving the kids an announcement that might have them jumping off the walls.

“Alright everyone in your seats please.” She says kindly. The students listen to her and shuffle to their seats, some chatter being shared as they do so. Sana claps her hands in a pattern to bring the students’ attention to her, and they clap their hands the same way that she had, quieting down in the process.

“Alright everyone, before I make this announcement, I need everyone to behave and not get too rowdy, okay?”

“Yes Ms. Minatozaki!” The class answers enthusiastically. Sana nods and smiles at them,

“Alright. So, there’s a special trip that is planned for you all next week.” She begins. The kids' faces start to light up after hearing the words “special trip” and almost all of them are itching to get more details on it. Sana’s face seems to light up with theirs from just looking at the excitement on their faces, so she continues,

“Next Wednesday we will be spending the day at the art museum downtown. There are going to be multiple people guiding you throughout the museum, and you’ll be able to learn about the art.” Sana explains, “And, at the end of the trip we’ll all meet back at a special room where you can paint along with an instructor.”

The kids’ smiles grow even wider, some are whispering to each other while others continue to keep their attention on the young teacher.

“Now, I also wanted to add that we will be needing some chaperones to help look after the class. I have some papers that I’ll give to you, make sure you show them to your mom, dad, or guardian. If they’d like to tag along to help out that would be great, and highly encouraged.” Sana says, pulling out a pile of papers from her desk, she begins to pass around said forms.

An hour passes and it’s free choice time. Hana walks up to the young teacher with the form that Sana had previously handed out. Sana smiles at the young girl and tilts her head,

“What is it, Hana? Is everything okay?” The young teacher questions,

“Um, Ms… What does guardian mean? You said mom, dad, and guardian earlier. Does that mean grown up?” Hana asks, and she looks at the paper as if her five-year-old self can read the whole thing with ease,

“I guess so. It’s an adult who takes care of you.” Sana explains to the girl. The girl hums to herself and furrows her brows,

“Does that mean y/n can come?”

“Of course, she’s your mom isn’t she?” Sana asks, and she’s confused as to why the girl looks up at her in surprise,

“My mom?”

“Yes… She’s your mom, no?”

“Ms. Minatozaki, Y/n is my aunt.”

Sana’s whole world stops for a moment. Y/n is her aunt?

“So your dad and her are…?”

“Y/n is my papa’s younger sister, she always jokes about him being so old,” Hana says, laughing to herself.

Sana genuinely stops functioning as she processes this new information: You’re not taken. Fireworks set off in her heart and confetti seems to pop: you’re not her mom. All the guilt that had been on her shoulders from thinking she was infatuated with a taken mother is gone, and it all makes sense now. Sana wonders how stupid she could’ve been, I mean, you and Hana’s dad had similar features, face shape, hair texture, and color. The young teacher had also realized that Hana only called you by your name, and not “mommy” or “mom” or anything like that; how could she have been so stupid?

“Ms. Minatozaki?”

“Oh, yeah, yes Hana. Y/n can come, of course, she can.” Sana says, and she really hopes you do come. Hana smiles and looks back at her paper before talking to her teacher again,

“You know, my aunt, she asks about you a lot.”

“She does?” Sana says, her heart skips a beat. Hana nods and looks back up at the teacher,

“She always asks about how school was, but she always ends up asking more about you and how you were during the day.” Sana’s eyes widen and she looks at the young girl in front of her, exposing you for being so interested in her.

The flame in her heart grows bigger, and it seems that the flame has no intention of dying down now that she knows you’re not Hana’s mother. Hana turns around and makes her way back to her desk to color after seeing that Sana wasn’t capable of responding again, and Sana doesn't even notice. Hana sits down unbothered, not knowing that she just turned Sana’s whole mood around, not knowing that this new piece of information will have her daydreaming the rest of the day – no, the rest of the week – maybe the rest of the month.

The school day comes to an end and the usual routine occurs: bell rings, kids scream, talk, and practically leap out of their seats to get in line to go to the entrance of the building. Sana waits with her usual group of eight, which includes Hana, and she hopes that today would be the day that you decided to pick her up. You had already picked Hana up on Monday, but now it’s Wednesday and those are the days that Hana’s dad would usually pick the little girl up, great.

Forty minutes pass and Sana sits down at the main office with Hana, no one had come to pick her up yet. Hana seems to be unbothered by this as she colors and draws on the sheet of paper that Sana had given her to cure her boredom, but she worries slightly since Jihyo still waits for her in the front.

Sana texts Jihyo a string of apologies and explanations and before she reads the instant reply, the sound of heavy breaths are heard as a familiar face enters the room, looking around all worried until her body relaxes when she sees her niece.

Y/n lets out a sigh of relief seeing Hana sitting down, coloring as if there wasn’t a single problem in the world. Her look shifts over to Sana, who is already looking at her. Their eyes meet and it makes the two women smile at one another.

“Hana,” your voice makes the little girl turn her head. She smiles and runs up to hug you, leaving her art on the desk,

“Aunt y/n!” And this is the first time Sana hears the little girl actually call you her aunt, she wishes that she would’ve called you aunt earlier (it would've saved her sleepless nights of wondering what the hell to do with her feelings, but at least she knows now).

You hug the little girl back and swipe away the strands of hair on her face, “Hi little one. Your dad had something come up at work, I rushed over as soon as my shift ended.” You explain. You turn back to share eye contact with the young teacher, eyes narrowing and lips curving upwards as you smile at her, “Thank you for watching her, I’m sorry for being so late.”

“It’s all right, really.” It’s more than all right, Sana thinks.

You grin again and turn your attention back to your niece, “Ready to go?”

“Yup!”

“Okay little one, come on.” and you crouch down to let her wrap around your shoulders, letting her piggyback ride you. You grab the art that your niece had made on the table and finally stand in front of Sana, thanking her.

“I’m sorry again, thank you so much.”

“It’s no problem, it’s nice to see you again,” Sana admits, a bit shyly too. The grin that’s already present on your lips grows and you wave to the shorter woman,

“I’ll see you.” You finally say, waving with your free hand and turning your head to the little one, “Let’s get going, your dad will be back by dinner.” You mutter, and Hana hums tiredly in response before you head out the main office doors, taking a quick glance at Sana, smiling again.

…

Jihyo’s going to lose her mind when I tell her all of this, Sana thinks to herself.

#sana imagines #kpop x reader #sana x reader #twice sana #twice x reader #gay gay gay #twice imagines #minatozaki sana #sana fluff

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flem17ng · 4 months

Text

Pretty girl: KCC x reader

keep on pretending, pretty girl

note: here it is! I may have made myself cry writing this

summary: Kyra is straight. She has liked boys since she was little. She had boyfriends all through high school. She is straight. At least she thought she was... but then she met you.

warnings: internalized homophobia kinda, Kyra being a cutie, angst (Sorry), the effects of the lesbian master dock, happy ending (Because i Ilove ya'll)

word count: 4.8k

"Kyra!" you yelled from across the dance floor, "come dance with me!" She hesitated for a second before moving towards you. It wasn't normal for her to think twice about dancing with her best friend but recently she had been getting weird feelings every time she saw you, or was near you... especially when she was near you.

The club was crowded with sweaty couples, all twirling together in time to the pounding music. Kyra finally reached you and you danced. some mindless pop ballad that neither of you knew the words to. You watched her dance, one hand in the air, grinning like a maniac and giggling. She was absolutely gorgeous like always.

"how much have you had to drink ky?" you asked with a smirk as she moved closer to you.

"huh? nothinggg" she slurred, proving her point moot. You knew she was drunk, she only got touchy when she was drunk and now she had a hand on your waist was was slowly dancing into your personal space. Maybe if you were smart you would confront her about this, but you weren't. On the contrary, you were utterly and completely in love with her. So instead you pushed her off you gently, grabbed her hand, and subtly started pulling her towards the door. You weren't smart but you were wise enough not to let her get ahead of herself. Your best friend was straight, you knew you had no chance, it would be torture to let yourself pretend while she was like this.

"come on ky ky, let's get you home" You opened the club door for her and let her walk onto the street.

"it's so pretty tonight!" she exclaimed, looking up at the Sydney city lights before turning to you, "you are so pretty tonight" she giggled. You tried to ignore the way your heart stuttered at her words and her drunken smirk. It helped to remember that she didn't mean it. Kyra walked towards you with a cheeky grin, placing her hands on your shoulders.

"you are the prettiest girl in the world! you know that right" she laughed. you just frowed and looked at the ground.

"come on. You're drunk. I'll get you an Uber." You took out your phone and started typing when you felt her lean forward and press a quick kiss to your cheek. You wished it was easier to fall out of love with someone, but it wasn't. Especially when that someone was Kyra. Kyra with her perfect teeth, her tanned skin, and her warm eyes. Kyra who sent you 'good morning texts' and knew your coffee order off by heart. Kyra was standing on a street in Sydney on a Saturday night with the prettiest smile. Kyra who was straight.

When the Uber finally arrived Kyra pouted. "I don't wanna leave you," she whined and you smiled at her before paying the Uber driver and giving her a quick hug.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Text me when you get home ok?" She nodded and gave you a drunken wave before getting into the car and driving off.

***

Kyra woke up with a headache and three text messages.

2:45am:

Y/N: Get home safe?

6:30am:

Y/N: hey ky. I dropped some painkillers at your door! I hope the hangover isn't too bad :)

tinder: you matched with Tom G! Message him to get a conversation started.

Kyra groaned. The odd feeling in her chest was back. It was like a flipping fluttering feeling that seemed to appear only with you. It would be a pleasant feeling if it wasn't mixed with the plummeting sensation of dread, confusion, and (weirdly) guilt. She clicked on the notification from Tinder first. The guy wasn't bad-looking, he had similar hobbies. But as Kyra looked through his photos again, she couldn't help but think he looked a little bit like her best friend... she closed her phone. She didn't have training that day so there was no reason she would have to bump into you. It wasn't that she didn't want to spend time you you! But she knew she got ahead of herself when she was drunk. She says things she shouldn't, and she gets touchy. She knows this because she does it on purpose: always acting more drunk than she is, leaning into you, batting her eyelids, and knowing she'll get away with it. She knows you won't call her up on it.

Maybe she would meet up with that Tom guy anyway. Why the hell not? She was young and single, and straight and so was this guy. She was sure of all those things! So why did she feel so horrible when she opened up her phone again, ignoring your texts and tapping on the Tinder app?

Kyra: Hey x

Tom G: Hi :)

***

"Y/n you can't just let her do this to you" Ellie groaned as she took another large gulp of her coffee. It had been a few weeks since the club with Kyra and ever since, she had been cold and distant, making up lame excuses about seeing some new guy. It was a cycle that was familiar at this point: Kyra was your best friend, you were her pretty girl, she gets drunk, she flirts, she gets cold, hooks up with a few guys, and then comes back to gossip about it. Unfortunately, Ellie had been there to see it all.

"Look I know! but I just can't help it ok! When she wants me I..."

Ellie's expression softened with understanding. As much as she wished she could snap you out of it and point you in the direction of literally any other woman, she knew it would never work.

"you know my opinion on this. Drunk words are sober thoughts and all that." she shot you a sad smile.

"Yes well. her sober thoughts right now are all about some guy called Tom." you rolled your eyes. Stupid Tom and his stupid XY chromosomes. You chewed your muffin with an aggressive frown. Ellie shook her head letting you finish your bite so you could continue.

"And besides. Yes! maybe she is gay. but she certainly doesn't know that does she. What's the point Ellie?" you sighed. "she only wants me when she's drunk. in the morning it's like nothing happened"

"Look I don't know what you want me to say! You need to get your mind off her. Go hook up with someone" Ellie rolled her eyes. She was terribly supportive but there was only so much delusion she could take in one morning.

"See I would... but she's asked me to come round for a movie tonight" Ellie just groaned. You could never pull yourself away from Kyra, no matter how much you tried. It wasn't like you did try though. you drank the rest of your coffee, feeling suddenly like a bum on a bar stool.

"You're too young to look so hopeless! You're attractive, and queer in Sydney for god's sake!" She laughed, giving you a playful slap on the arm. You knew she was right even if you would never tell her she was. Your phone buzzed.

Ky 🤍: can't wait to see you! I have to tell you about Tom ;)

"Jesus Christ I'm pathetic" You covered your face with your hands dramatically.

"Correct! Now finish your muffin so we can pay and leave please."

***

Kyra rushed forward into a hug when you arrived at her door a few hours later. She was dressed in a loose pajama top and shorts and her hair was in a messy bun with strands out to frame her face. You wished you could greet her with a kiss, or run your hands through her hair... Instead, you returned the hug, handed over the bag containing ice cream and snacks, and walked into the apartment like a friend would.

"I missed you!" Kyra shouted from the kitchen as she put the icecream in the freazer, "I feel like i havnt seen you in forever"

You swallowed back a remark about kyra ignoring you for days and choosing some guy over you and instead followed her into the kitchen with a grin.

"I missed you too Ky! How have you been?" you knew better than to bring up your last outing to the club. She would brush it off with a joke or get cold like she always did.

"Well... Tom took me Bowling the other day! It was so romantic" She giggled, grabbing her phone to show you a picture of the two of them at the bowling lane. You swallowed hard and nodded supportively.

The night wore on relatively the same: you talked and laughed and gossiped about your friends. Kyra was only about 2 wine glasses in when she started feeling weird again. Maybe it was the way your hair was sitting or the way the light was hitting your face... Either way, she needed to be close to you. On the couch she cuddled up to you, resting her head on your chest while some movie played on mute in the background. When she closed her eyes and listened she could hear your heartbeat under her head, slow and steady. The movie, a rom-com, must have been coming to an end as the two characters finally got together in a scene that might have been heartwarming if either of you had been playing attention to the plot.

"Y/n?" Kyra asked suddenly.

"hmm?" You had let yourself relax a little into the sofa as the night wore on and now rested a hand on top of her head gently.

"I dont want Tom to be my boyfriend" she whispered, so quiet you almost didnt catch it.

"I thought he was romantic? and smart and handsom?" you asked, looked down to were kyra lay with her eyes squeezed shut on your chest.

"I don't know i..." Kyra opened her eyes and looked up, your faces suddenly very close together. "I don't want him to be close to me like you are" She admitted, her voice sounding vulnerable.

"He woldnt be! It would be different. He would kiss you and all that." you responded confused. Kyra had had boyfriends before, she knew what that relationship entailed.

"But I want to do that stuff with you!" She smiled moving her face even closer so your noses brushed. You felt your heart drop. You had hoped the evening wouldn't take this direction mostly because you wanted to save yourself the pain.

"Kyra..." you breathed. You knew this is when you should pull away, push her off you, and tell her to sort herself out. Instead, you just squeezed your eyes closed in hopes that she could sober up and stop playing with your feelings. "You know it hurts me when you do this Ky..."

"I don't want to hurt you" She whispered and you could hear the cheeky smirk on her lips. You could feel her wine breath on your own mouth. God why was it so hard. You opened your eyes, only to find her still close enough to touch. Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks were flushed from the alcohol. She was looking at your lips and you knew the kiss was coming before she even leaned in.

It was sloppy and one-sided. You refused to kiss her back despite how much you wanted to, despite the way your heart raced at the feel of her warm lips on yours. She tried to deepen it when you placed a hand on her shoulder and pushed her away softly.

"Enough. Time for bed"

"But you taste so good" Kyra giggled with a pout pulling on her rosey cheeks. You swallowed and shook your head. You had let it go too far, you needed to stop, you needed to leave before you did something stupid like let her kiss you again.

"Tom wouldn't mind me kissing you silly" She laughed finally rolling to the other side of the couch to let you stand up. You felt your eyes sting a little. You wouldn't cry in front of her, you wouldn't let yourself be comforted by her.

"I don't want you to kiss me Ky. Just go to bed now" You didn't wait to see her pout at you because you knew your resolve wouldn't last if you did. Instead, you turned on your heel, grabbed your bag, and headed out of the apartment.

***

9:45am

Ky 🤍: Oh man I drank way more than I thought last night! I can't remember anything from after we turned on the movie lol

You rolled your eyes when you saw the notification. At this point, you could predict the fallout of every possible flirty Kyra situation based on her first text of the day. She wasn't a lightweight, she knew how to hold her liquor so the part about not remembering anything was nothing short of a blatant lie and you knew it. Maybe a year ago, hell maybe even a month ago, you would have let her get away with her bullshit, but not now. Yes, you loved her but you loved her when she was just being herself, not some character she pretended to be. Maybe that's what made it so painful: not because of what she did when she was drunk but because deep down you knew that she knew exactly what she was doing while she was doing it. She knew what she was doing when she kissed you, she knew what she was doing when she told you she wanted to be with you...

You needed space, no matter how much it hurt. So you ignored her text. And her call that came later. And her offer to get coffee the next day.

1:05am

Ky 🤍: I miss you pretty girl ;)

That notification was soon replaced with:

Ky 🤍 Deleted one (1) message

A few days latter and kyra stopped trying to call. Part of you was thankful... But most of you just wanted to cry. It was self preservation mostly and Ellie agreed it was the right thing to do. But you couldnt help but feel you would loose your best friend if carried on ghosting her.

10:30 am

Ky 🤍: Tom asked me to be his girlfriend btw.

That was when you really did cry: Hot heavy tears that seemed like they would never end. The tears brought with them a horrible emptiness and you mourned not only your friendship but that delusional part of yourself that still believed that one day Kyra would realize you were there for her all along.

11:00 am

Y/n: Thats great Kyra! sorry I've been off grid for a while :)

You hated yourself as soon as you pressed send. But it was Kyra, and no matter how bad it hurt you were there for her. It wasn't her fault you had a silly crush on her after all. You bit down another sob that threatened to break free. here you were again, making excuses for her.

11:05 am

Ky 🤍: SHE'S ALIVE!! come to the bar tonight to meet him? pleaaseee

Y/n: I'll be there.

***

"Y/n I didnt think we'd be seeing you here tonight" ellie called from the booth that was already very full with the rest of your group. Ellie shot you a knowing look as kyra shot up from her seat to great you with a bear hug.

"Well... I needed to meet the mystery man didn't i?" you tried for a smile but it came out all forced and wrong.

"Come on! Sit next to me. I already got you a drink" Kyra shot you a winning smile as she turned back to the table. You couldn't help but smile at the spring in her step.

Tom sat on her otherside seemingly unaware of the subtle tension between his new girlfriend and yourself. Maybe the tension was in your head you bagan to think...

But then you felt a cool hand rest on your thigh and you knew it wasnt. Kyras hand was hidden by the table but you could feel it: Resting on your bare leg, slightly too high to be friendly. You ignored it at first, taking another sip of your coke, laughing at something sam was saying.

But then she gave your leg a squeeze and you felt your breath hitch. Her fingers absent-mindedly began fiddling with the hem of your dress. You shot her a look but she wasn't even looking in your directing.

Already you caught yourself making her excuses: she was nervous, she was a little drunk and did not realize what she was doing, and she was a touchy person by nature (this was true).

"You are my favorite. You know that don't you" You flinched when you felt her hot breath tickle your kneck. You had been so engrossed with your thoughts that you hadn't even noticed her leaning towards you to whisper in your ear.

"Please get off me Kyra," you said, a little loudly making Ellie and Sam look at you with concern. Kyra's smirk dropped into a genuine frown.

"What?" She didn't sound drunk now. You turned to face her, a knot forming in your throat. You couldn't hurt yourself like this, not when her boyfriend was sitting at the same table. Not when you had spent every day since you were 14 falling in love with her.

"I said, Get off me" You pushed her hand off your thigh and stood up suddenly. It was too hot in the bar, too crowded. You turned and almost ran towards the door, needing to get away from Kyra's shocked face, Tom's stupid smirk and drawling voice, and Ellie's pitying expression. No sooner had you exited the bar did you head her run after you.

"What the fuck was that about Y/n?" she shouted, looking disheveled and shocked. You could have laughed.

"What was that about? I could bloody well ask you the same thing. Has it ever occurred to you once, that I'm more than just your drunken experiment" you yelled back, "I mean really Kyra! We're experts at this little dance by now."

"What are you talking about?" you really did laugh then, only to stop the hot tears waiting to burst.

"you get drunk and you want me. I'm your favorite, I'm your pretty girl, I'm the most beautiful person in the world. And then the next day I'm what? nothing? your best friend?" The tears start rolling now, making it hard to breathe but you need to get this all out. It's been welling in your chest for years, building pressure and heat and now you need to let it go.

"So what is it ky? Do you love me like you say or is it just the wine? or sorry, is it Burbon today I didn't ask." you knew it was cruel, especially as you saw the understanding in her eyes. "I'm done with this. I'm done with you. I can't keep wasting my love on you when you can't even return it." Your cheeks felt hot despite the cool breeze and your heart raced.

"Y/n he's not my boyfriend... he asked but I said no," she said quietly as if that was a balm.

"Who cares Kyra? because if it's not him it's some other man. It's anyone but me. or at least until you get a couple drinks in." Kyra was definitely sober now if she wasn't before. Her expression was somewhere between guilt, anger, and hurt. You wished you would hold her, kiss her, and make it all better but it wasn't possible.

"I do... I do love you like I say when I'm... drunk," she muttered to the floor. "I just- I need to figure it out. being with Tom it's like-"

"pretending. It's pretending Kyra." there was no anger left in you now, just sadness. Kyra loved you but she wouldn't face up to it without being knockout drunk and what was worse? you had wasted all your love on her.

"Y/n I love you though"

"Stop. You're being mean" a sob escaped you, "Just keep on pretending. I can't wait around for you to figure yourself out." You took a couple steps backward, suddenly feeling deja vu from the last time you found yourself outside a club on the street with Kyra. She must have had the same thought because she looked up at the city lights, the colours bouncing off her wet cheeks. Before she could look back at you and break your heart more, you turned and walked up the street, hoping she had the sense not to follow you.

***

You didn't talk for months. 3 Months and 2 weeks to be exact but who was counting? Kyra broke up with Tom that night without hesitation. She knew what the weird feeling she got when she was around you know. She had been so scared so so long it felt weird to put a label on the emotion. She loved you. Was in love with you to be exact. And as far as she knew, you hated her. All she could think about was how broken you had looked as you shouted at her. You looked so tired and hopeless and it was all because she hadn't realised how she was affecting you. It was just fun, drinking a little as an excuse to be close to you. She knew kissing you at her house that day was a mistake but it's all she wanted to do.

"Kyra you messed up mate. You're really in the doghouse." Sam stated from the other side of the couch while Kyra cried yet again. All she seemed to do now was cry.

"Is she dating anyone?" She asked. sam just shook her head and didn't answer. She had already told both of you that she wasn't going to be the middle man of this mess.

"I know it's hard to face up to these feelings ok? But remember what she told you? You need to figure yourself out before you try to make things right."

"It was hard for me too" Kristie rubbed her back as she entered the room, "I mean things are pretty uptight where I come from and I just wanted to fit in. I know that isn't quite the issue for you but-" she shrugged "For me it helped to remember that life is too short to give a shit about whether you like a boy or a girl."

"I like girls" Kyra stated (It had taken a long time and a lot of girls in red music videos to realise it but now she was dead certain), "But I don't just... I love her." She deadpanned, looking up at Kristie. "That's so scary..."

Sam shrugged again, "It's scary sure, but from the sounds of it she feels the same"

Kyra snorted, "Well maybe she did before I fucked it all up."

"Look man, she isn't going to be the one to reach out to you. No matter how much she loves you, that girl is stubborn as hell. You need to be the one the make amends." Kyra nodded.

She loved you and she knew that now. She loved the way you teased her for her bad jokes, she loved the way you smiled and sang in the shower. She loved to way you squinted your eyes when watching a movie. She missed you. And she knew now that she was a damn fool for thinking any differently.

***

The past few months had been rough to say the very least on the matter. You had taken Ellie's advice and gone out to a few clubs, hooked up with women whose names you can't remember, and tried your best to forget about Kyra. Every other morning you seemed to be waking up in a bed that wasn't yours, and every morning without fail you felt a deep hole in your chest like something had been wrenched out of place. You wanted her, yes, but you needed security more and that was something she wasn't able to give you. Not if she wasn't even able to admit she was gay.

That morning, exactly 3 months, 2 weeks, and one day since you last saw Kyra you felt as though you might finally have forgiven her. Sure you were upset and hurt and embarrassed, and you were sure as hell done making excuses for her; But at the end of the day, Kyra was your best friend and, if your recent escapades had taught you anything, she was also the love of your life.

The knock came at your door when you were halfway through your third cup of coffee for the morning. It startled you enough to leave you swearing and rubbing your hand where you spilled the drink.

"Coming!" you yelled, dropping the cup off in the kitchen before padding barefoot towards the door, expecting the mailman or a delivery. When you opened the door to see Kyra you were glad you had already put your mud down or you would have dropped it again.

"Kyra?" her name felt weird on your tongue, "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you," She said simply, stepping in and shutting the door softly behind her.

"You could have texted"

"No, I- I needed to talk to you"

"Well. You're talking now" You couldn't help but be a little aloof, you had no idea where to conversation was going to go. Kyra took your statement as permission to continue.

"Can we sit please?" You nodded and led her over the the kitchen where she sat on one of the bar stools. You stayed standing, leaning your hip on the counter.

"I'm sorry" she blurted before you could say anything, "I'm sorry for treating you like shit and for ignoring your feelings, I'm sorry it took me so long to figure myself out. I'm sorry I pushed all these guys in your face like I had something to prove to you. Most of all I'm sorry I didn't tell you how I felt sooner because maybe we wouldn't have gotten into this mess in the first place." She took a breath and rubbed her palms on her thighs nervously.

"The truth is that all those times I flirted with you and stepped over the line... I was not drunk at least not like I acted to be. It was a confidence boost I needed to say what I was thinking, what I am always thinking. I've realised now that I've loved you for years, maybe longer. I knew I felt different towards you than I did others but it was so scary."

You nodded, feeling a knot of emotion form in your throat. Here she was, after months of not talking, saying all the things you had been longing for.

"And I know that it's going to take some time to trust me again" Kyra looked into your eyes now, feeling more confident, "But Y/n I love you so much it hurts. I'm done pretending ok? I'm yours." She smiled softly, "If you'll have me that is."

You watched her fiddle with her fingers for a second before opening your mouth.

"Kyra you have no idea how long I've been waiting to hear you say that." She smiled at you and your heart skipped its familiar beat at the sight. "You're right, I'll need time but..." You stood up straight and walked towards where she sat, "I want this so bad Ky."

You stepped in between her legs and cupped her face between your hands. You watched her eyes go a little wider and her cheeks go pink. You felt her heart speed up under your fingers and for the first time, it was you leaning in to kiss her. Her lips were soft and warm and minty. Her breath was hot and clear against your skin. She wrapped her arms around your waist and sighed against your lips making you giggle. You ran your fingers through her hair like you always wanted to and pulled back slowly. Kyra's eyes were still closed, a small smile on her swollen lips.

"You're the prettiest girl in the world Kyra. You know that right?" Kyra opened her eyes and smiled her perfect smile and your chest filled with a wave of warmth. You would take it slow with her, careful... but in that moment it was everything just to be near her and she felt the very same.

You leaned forward and wrapped your arms around her tightly. You just needed to hold her, to keep her there so she wouldn't leave. As if she read your mind, Kyra moved your hair and planted a small kiss on the side of your neck.

"I'm not going. I promise" she whispered and pressed another feather-light kiss under your ear. Maybe you were a fool, maybe you were an idiot, maybe you were just stupidly in love with this girl. Whatever it was you knew she was telling the truth. Kyra Cooney-Cross was done pretending.

#kyra cooney cross #kyra cooney cross x reader #woso x reader #matildas x reader #arsenal wfc

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