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blingblong55 · 5 months

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Cowboy like me -Philip Graves

creds: @/vhenan_virabelesan on instagram

Based on a request:

i need more graves in my life. like southern cowboy graves who finds veteran reader one day in line for food or something and he just can’t help but talk to her until the blood rushes to his face and flushes red. need graves who never thought he would settle down or get married until he finds himself staring at rings after dating you for 8 months. philip who cherishes his fiery girl by winning stock shows and buying her a new mercedes just because. reader asking him how she can pay him back and he asks her to move in. philip who holds reader so so close to his body, never wanting to hurt her while his cock throbs into her. caressing her hair and clicking his tongue whenever she breaks eyes contact from his good he feels. philip being called away for a two month deployment all of a sudden. two months feel like two years until he can see his beloved peeing the ranch goats and chasing chickens back into their coop. philip who finally gets home and uses his rank to skip the welcome home ceremony, wanting to surprise reader at home since it’s late at night and him speeding home because they’re not going to live their lives through the phone. driving like a maniac until he feels the grind of gravel against rubber and the familiar low glow of the wooden house, until he holds onto her body like how oxygen embeds itself into his lungs. i need him so bad ---- F!Reader, fluff, some smut, boyfriend!Graves, cowboy!Graves, P-in-V, soft sex, soft!dom Graves, veteran!Reader ---- A/N: this is how I know you are a Graves lover, so please my dear..enjoy :)

You moved to the countryside, a small town and a pair of old boots. Life is calm, away from that old and rowdy one you lived as a soldier. This time around, you were told about some new small restaurant in town, decided to check it out and that's when all the stars aligned. He walks in, three days into his break from a long deployment and then, his eyes meet your frame. A small smile on him. Never did he see another woman like you in his part of town. Not as pretty or as captivating. His cowboy hat by his chest as he admired you. You, unaware, order your meal, eager to taste something new.

He walked closer, and the cashier asked for your name. "R/N," you said and he smiles. What a precious name. For days after, he returned to that small restaurant, walked around town and frequented many shops and then he stopped walking. There you were, getting what he assumed was your truck loaded with gravel and some other stuff. You were a local then. He knew the man from the shop, asked around and soon he realised you were the woman who bought a property close to his. Ain't it funny. Your herd dog ran away and into his property, what a fun time Philip would have.

"I'm sorry, he…is a bit of a runner," you chuckle as you get your dog in the truck. "No worries, hun. I'm Philip," he extends his hand and you shake it. "I'm R/N, a pleasure to meet you," you smile. "So, what is a pretty lady like you doing 'ere?" You chuckle, your hat being the perfect sunblock for this sunny day. "I own this land," you answer and he smiles more. "Ah, so that means you aren't just a pretty lady with a dog, that makes you my pretty lil neighbour," he gets closer. You couldn't deny it, he had his charm and it worked on you. "What if instead of keeping you out on this Sun, I keep you out, say Friday night at around 8 pm?" Oh that smile on him, what a dangerous game it played.

And so you accepted. You played the dangerous game with him and it turned into something so calm and beautiful. Now, instead of spending his days or weeks off work alone, he spends them with you. He got to know you, understand you and love all of you. Every day, there he was, at your front porch, wildflowers at hand from his part of the land. Every day, there you were, at the front door, ready to greet him with a kiss. It never was the fact he could buy store flowers, it was the intention, to always bring them to you, pretty or not, he took his time every day to pick them out, to think, 'She'll like them, yeah…this one is perfect,' that is the beauty of him. And, you always fell even deeper for him. That smile, the same one he saw every morning, gave him more reason to go around, plant flowers on his land and when they grow, he will cut them and hand them to you.

It's what all lovers did before him. His eyes, my my my, were they enchanting to look at. He never meant to be a husband, to come home to his pretty lady, to love. He was meant to be a soldier, a commander and to watch himself die sometime far from today, in some dangerous place. Today, he walks around, looks at rings and shakes his head anytime the lady at the jewellery place asks if he likes that ring. "No, don't think my darling would fit this, I need something more…more beautiful…something that matches her beauty, so let's keep looking." But that was a game to never be won. In his mind, no diamond would match your beauty, it just had to at least resemble your natural looks.

His friends were all teasing him for falling in love. It's not bad, they reassure, it's…new..it changed you for the better, they all admit. When he introduces you to them, they all look at each other. "Oh, it makes more sense," one says and the rest agree. You did change him, he has become someone everyone admires more, and he has more reason to do certain stuff now. You and him, it is possibly the healthiest of loves he or you had. The warm feeling in your chest, that feels right. The compliments from his mother, his father and siblings, all feel too well. And you know that maybe you are right, maybe this is love. It's love in the beautiful, the ugly, the immature things you two laugh at, the stare his friends give when they know he find his forever person. It is real…it's love for what humans know love to be.

"My dear, c'mon, calm down," his voice soft, hands on your body as you argue over something that happened at a store. "Babe, you don't get it. That man…ooh that man do I dislike him!" He chuckles, "You know what the deal was and what he said was right-" "No, no it wasn't and you know what, shame on you for backing him up." You push him. "No, don't do that, we don't do that. If I fuck up, you correct me and I do the same for you, we fix each other that way." You huff out and cross your arms. He was right, you did that and now he had to do the same. Anytime he said or did something that wasn't right, you corrected him and he listened and apologised and did better next time. Now, here you were, having to be in his situation. "Sorry…it's just…why…why would that man do that- you're right..sorry"

"It's over, let's move on," his arms wrap around you and you sigh. "I love you," he reminds you and you smile. Your arms now wrapping around him. "I love you too," you whisper and get comfortable in his arms. Slowly, this became the norm, talk it out, don't yell but talk, it's simple and it's what keeps it all comfortable.

Christmas, ten months into loving you, he buys and gifts you a car. Lavish and all for you. For what reason? No motive, he just felt the need to give it. You, being someone who can't just accept these nice acts, shove the keys back to him. "Nope, nope…Phil, you can't just give me this." He shakes his head, "I can and it's rude to deny a gift, my love," he walks to you, the smile on him again. Was he a wizard? To have you so enchanted by his smile? "But-…how can I repay this? This is too much, Phil-" A kiss, is all it took to have you calm down and let him love you more. "Move in, that's all I ask of you." He says between kisses and you smile. Of course, now that is the man you know. A mastermind for a fiance? Now that is something to have yourself get accustomed to.

By Spring, he and you married.

By Summer, he had your back arched, your body and his pressed against each other as he repeatedly made love to you. His cock, deep inside of you as your milked him for every last drop. Your hands, wrapped around his back, owning him and marking him with scratches, ones he would proudly wear. His hands caress your body as if you were some angelic creature. Your eyes close once your body starts to feel euphoric, its pleasure to the greatest it can be. Philip's kisses trail from your lips to your collarbone. Your tits bounce with each thrust he gave you, your eyes closed and then he grabs your face with force. "Don't you dare look away, my love, not now," he grunts and moans.

His fat cock stretches your tight cunt to its limit. You let our whimpers, your orgasm building up slowly. "That's it, be a good girl-" he grips your face again. "Tsk, what i say?" He kisses you and once he is done with your lips, he ensures your gaze never leaves his. Your drunken stare is the one thing that is making him last so long. Your juices leak all over him, his cum deep inside of you, making sure to leave you leaking. It was his way of saying goodbye as he went on yet another operation. Your cunt, throbbing for the abuse and love your dear husband gave you over and over. It was perfection, it is love that he makes to you on a night like this.

Your teary eyes, make him frown and apologise. "I'm sorry, I know…I know darling." he cups your face with his warm hands and kisses you all over that precious pouty face. Your tears dried by his lips. Love is an action or emotion. Right now, in this bed made up of two drunken lovers, he made sure to teach you that he was not like any of the past men you loved. He was sure of it because no other man-made you cum with a stare, a touch, or a lick of your precious and delicious cunt. He isn't most men, he is your man, your other half, the one that has you whimpering over his size. The one that has you lighting candles for when he comes back home.

After that night, he was gone for some time. Not much contact besides the small talk on texts or the quick calls from the base. It was an eternity, to not have him by your side, to not watch you fall over as you tried to feed the animals on the ranch. It was a long night when you didn't have him wrap his arms around you and whisper sweet nothings. But it was the rule, wait and I'll be back to love you more. You were his patient lover, like a woman back in the day, waiting all day for her man. And the second came with the view of the joint estates, he smiles. His pretty darling, his home and all those crazy animals, all waiting for him.

His mates at the base, all begged him to wait just a little longer but he couldn't not when he yearned to be in your arms. He didn't care, it didn't matter if they all wanted a sit-down cookout to celebrate a triumph of an operation. You mattered. You see, the thought of you, laying in bed, with an empty side, his pillow used as a teddy bear as you await for him, that was an image he couldn't let happen anymore. His truck, rushed through the night all to get a glimpse, a touch, a whisper and an 'I love you' from you.

The door, swung open as he hurried up the stairs and into the bedroom. The floor creaks under his step as he silents himself from excitement when he sees your precious face. It was a rush, it's love and glee to know he came home, came home to you. "R/N, doll..I'm home," he whispers as he gently stirs you awake. That smile of yours, oh it can melt a man as mean and cold as him. "Hi," your voice is so soft and small. "Hi," he responds and sits on the edge, watching as you crawl into his arms. "Did you miss me?" but of course, he knew that answer. You nod and bury your face on his chest. What was once an empty bed, is now a bed full of two. Two crazed people, two hearts, one home. "Oh I missed you more," he rubs your back and notices how your body relaxes. He holds you close, so close that it's as if he wants your body to become one.

His boots are under the bed as he settles in with you. Your warmth wrapped him in an embrace. This, this is all he ever needed. It wasn't some drunk one-night stand, it wasn't cheap love or cheap sex. No one could afford this. Don't think he even understood how much he had to afford this kind of love but he can and that is all that matters now.

A/N: I love cowboys....and I love cowboy Graves

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year

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OH GOD YOUR REQS R OPEN, i would rlly like to request something, could you write an one shot of price with a little daugther reader? just like, him coming home and spending some time with his little girl, she tells him about her school, he tells her some funny stories that happened while he was at work, he cooks her favorite meal, just a big fluff, i love this man more than anything and i just need some paternal love LMAO, feel totally free to deny! do everything in your time and remember to take good care of urself!

Memories of Youth

Pairing: Father!John Price x F!Daughter!Reader

Synopsis: It was hard being away from his little girl, but warm mornings spent in each other's company were blessings - even if they were far and few in between. It didn't matter the form.

Word Count: 4.5k (short and sweet)

Warnings: Angst (just a little cuz I can't help myself), a lotta fluff, banter, just good platonic/paternal relationship in general, etc.

A/N: Didn't specify if the reader was adopted or blood-related, so that's really up to you! Enjoy, Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

He got the call at the halfway point of crossing the English Channel, Northern France behind him and Southern England just on the horizon line as the sun began to spread its orange glow over the waves. Sitting high above the water in a slick black Heli, John Price’s hand snaps to his side pocket, fingers deftly peeling back the layers as the overwhelming sound of helicopter blades shakes the hull.

The rest of Task Force 141 watch with varying interest, only Gaz taking notice of the sudden frown that mars his Captain’s face; the furrowed brow, and the spark of concern in his eyes. A call was unusual. The Sargeant tries not to intrude, but can’t help the way his body lightly shifts so he can have a better view.

John doesn't bother to look at the contact when he takes the device out, rapidly pressing the answer button and slotting the phone at his ear, tilting his head so his opposite rests at the junction of his shoulder. It only stops a fraction of the noise, even so, it would have to do for now. But with how his ears were already straining to find a sound over the line, he may not need to force out the jarring racket after all.

Inside his chest, John’s heart is racing – confusion laces his mind. This was abnormal.

I told her only to call if it was an emergency. What could she have gotten herself into now? I said to stay out of trouble…

“Where are you?!” The Brit has to shout down the line, his familiar deep accent loud and guttural.

His mind flies through every possibility. An intruder had broken into the house, you had broken your arm falling down the stairs again, or a fire had broken out in the kitchen. Fuck…he was too far away to help if anything bad had happened. John’s jaw clenches, eyes looking out over the water as the bucket hat on his head flops in the wind. It was only a product of his job that made him think like that; years of intuition and thinking on the fly leading to his mind making up the worst scenarios.

Especially when you called on a secure line when he told you it was only appropriate for life-and-death situations. Especially when it was his little girl.

I told ‘er about the Pistol in my office, yeah? The Captain asks himself with a steel-like resolve. And gave her Laswell’s number?

John’s fingers tighten over the phone when he hears your breath over the line, a shuffling of clothes, and a deep exhale.

“Sunshine!” He tries again, sitting up straighter as his pulse gets faster. Why isn’t she answering me? “Where are you right–”

“We don’t have anything for breakfast.” Your voice is heavy with sleep; fatigue drowning the syllables and holding them under the very waves that rage under John only separated by thin sheets of metal.

The Brit stops. His body freezes, and as the tense minutes go by his panic falls away and leaves a thick stain of annoyance resting behind his eyelids. Of course. John brings two fingers to his nose bridge, digging into the skin until tiny crescent moons are left behind; he has to take a deep breath before answering, but his tone leaves nothing to the imagination.

“...Breakfast…?”

“Yeah, Old Man, you need me to spell it for you? B-R-E-A-K-F-A–”

“Enough!” John barks stiffly and has to hold back his anger as you laugh from the other side. Ever the jokester – did you not realize how serious this was? How fast your father’s heart was racing with adrenaline?

Fuck, he had just about been ready to radio the cockpit and force the pilots to fly faster.

Across the way, Ghost locks eyes with the man, and with a tilt of his head and a loud call he asks, “That the Mutt?”

The Captain’s eyes slip back into a firm blank slate.

“Affirm.” John tilts the phone away from his mouth, ignoring your sarcastic comments to catch his sanity for a moment and respond to his Lieutenant.

Simon blinks as Johnny perks up at his side, looking in from the view in favor of the Captain with newfound interest. A bright smile forms over his scruffy cheeks

“She all good?” The skeletal man asks, and Gaz smirks lazily tapping his fingers over his knee, immediately noticing your shenanigans and the way the Cap was so worked up.

But anyone would be when they had a daughter thousands of miles away.

John simply nods once with an exasperated expression to Ghost. MacTavish snorts out a laugh, knowing the context of the situation without having to think hard.

“Is that Uncle Simon?” You ask, and with a scratch at his beard, your father hums in confirmation, letting the sound of your voice put him more at ease. She’s just fine. “Tell him I want him to come over and play Mario Cart with Gaz, Johnny, and me again! He wiped the floor with ‘em last time!”

There’s a clinking of pots and pans as you move throughout the house.

“Sweetheart,” Your father grumbles, sighing through the call. His voice takes on the authoritative tone that works for both soldiers and teenagers – but it rarely works on you, despite that fact. Took after your dad too much, is what John would say. Never listened until it was absolutely necessary. “What did I tell you about callin’ this phone when I’m away from the house?”

He hears your scoff and raises a warning eyebrow, though you can’t see it. You know your dad enough to know he’s doing it despite being separated. It was pretty common.

“Not to, unless it’s an emergency…But I’d say food is a big enough reason, y’know? Unless you want me to eat the leftover cake for breakfast – which I haven’t thrown out as a possibility yet, honestly.”

“You’re not eatin’ bloody cake for breakfast. You’ll get sick.” Gaz snickers, turning his face away to hide the amusement at the comment.

It hadn’t been a surprise that the Captain’s daughter was such a familiar creature – they saw traits reflected every time the two were together. Everyone had expected her to take after her old man in nearly everything, and when she had they had bumped fists and prayed for the brown-bearded man. But it was funny nonetheless, considering they got along better than most fathers and daughters; practically reading each other's minds when everyone was playing poker. Johnny was still pretty ticked off about that – he’s a good deal deep into the sweets debt he owes you because Price helps you win. But where they really shined was with the shared deadpan attitudes, bottom-of-the-barrel sarcasm, and knowing how to command a room without even trying. Safe to assume that the rest of the team would do anything for you.

“Will not.” You grumble in retaliation, and John’s lips threaten to tilt into a grumpy smile when he hears you put the cake plate back into the counter.

Letting the tension fall from his shoulders, the brown-haired man takes a glance outside, watching the waves go bright orange as they lap and writhe like great sea serpents.

“How long have you been up, eh? The sun’s barely risen. Thought Sunday was when you always slept in?”

There’s a pause in what John believed were fingers digging through a cupboard, and he narrows his eyes in confusion as the silence grows long. He frowns when you speak again, words so quiet he has to place a hand over his other ear to hear properly. Having half a mind to go and tell the pilots to hurry up and go faster so he can just talk to his little girl in person, he refrains, knowing that’s not how this works. But something was wrong – it had been laced in your previous words, as tiny and unnoticeable as it may have been. Only a father would notice it.

“You said you were gonna be home last night. I stayed up.” It takes a moment of halted breathing before John’s eyes widen, blues full of realization.

Oh.

…Damn it. He lets out the tense breath of air from his lips, shifting in his seat as the gear around his body weighs him down. His gun digs into his chest.

He hadn't seen you for over a week – leaving you in the care of a close and trusted neighbor, Mrs. Lilly, just as he always had when he needed to leave for work on short notice. But seeing as you were older now, it became apparent that, with your learned independence, staying at the house by yourself was alright as long as you checked in with the neighbor every morning and night. You had been waiting for him to come home. All alone. In the dark.

Fucken’ hell, John thinks in a deep layer of guilt as wrinkles overtake his forehead, I did tell her I’d be back yesterday. I forgot to call and tell ‘er. Shit! He didn’t want to imagine the stress that had been put on your shoulders. God, what’ve I done?

Not checking in was something he had never missed before – he always told you when he was about to come back. What had gone wrong this time? How had something that important just slipped his mind? Sure the Op had been tedious, but he was trained to handle it. It was no excuse.

“Sweetheart,” John starts and then pauses the soft and gentle endearment, knowing that an apology didn’t fit into what you were looking for. You didn’t want an ‘I’m sorry’ right now, you wanted your father. Flattening his lips into a line, he continues, wishing he was with you more than ever so he can press a kiss to your forehead. “...I should be back before 1200. How about when I get back I’ll cook you up somethin’ myself, yeah? Or we can go to that Cafe you like down on Newman Street and I’ll get you whatever you want.”

“...When do you have to go back?” You don’t answer his question, and yours makes his heart hurt.

John clears his throat.

“None of that, now. We’ll talk more when I get back, Darling, alright?” You don’t respond, but he hears you sigh and quietly scoff under your breath. “Alright?” He tries again, head tilting forward and eyebrows rising as if you could see him. Maybe you could.

“Fine. But you better make me pancakes. I don’t care if it’ll be noon.”

“Pancakes it is.” The Captain looks up in time to see Johnny mouthing words to him, and with a blank face and stiff lip, your father mutters with a grunt, “Johnny says ‘hello.’”

Your shocked snort makes him feel better, but a layer of guilt still stays. You were awake all night waiting for him, and he never showed up. Did you sleep on the couch? Damnit, he hoped you didn’t…but in his rattling chest knew you had. He found you like that every time he came back from a long stay away. Huddled under blankets, no pillow under your head. Sometimes you steal one of his shirts and hold it like a stuffed bear to your chest, shoving your face into it.

How could I forget to fucken’ call her?

Your voice takes him out of his growing self-resentment.

“Tell him to watch his back – I’m getting better at Rainbow Road. Soon enough I’ll be able to beat him in a 1V1!” John can’t help the slow chuckle that bounces in his throat, mind, for the moment, at ease as long as you continue to speak to him.

“I’ll be sure to pass it along. But, eh,” The Brit makes sure he speaks slowly, letting you hear every syllable of his next words. “Promise me you’ll stay at the house until I get there. No goin’ out with friends, yeah? You know how I worry.” John ignores the teasing look from Gaz and peeks out again to see how close they were to the mainland with narrowed lids. “‘Specially when I’m not there.”

Getting back to the Base wasn’t the problem, it was the damn reports coming in that would wring his neck before he could get out the door. But he’d push it off for however long he could; call in favors from Laswell to get him more time with his little girl so he can fix his mistake. As a dad, the only thing that counted was seeing his daughter after a seemingly unending Op that he didn’t want to relive. The hardest part wasn’t the blood or the guts – it was being away from you. Nothing would ever change that, even if he was the one on the ground gritting his teeth at the bite of a bullet.

“Scout’s honor, Old Man.” The happiness in your voice makes him smile to himself.

“Stop calling me that, Muppet.” John grumbles affectionately, rolling his eyes, “I’ll give you a call when back I’m in town, Sunshine. Make sure the door’s locked–”

“--Locked, the windows too, plus, if someone knocks on the door I need to look through the peephole and if I don’t recognize them don’t open it…Am I missing anything?”

“Mind yourself, now you’re just being cheeky, you are.” John teases, scoffing, but proud that you remembered his rules. It made all of this just a bit more manageable.

“Who do you think I got it from?” You laugh, but it tapers off sullenly, “Just…get home safe, okay, Dad?”

John’s beard pulls back into a soft close-lipped grin, eyes crinkling as his heart warms. He so desperately wanted to ruffle your hair.

“Of course, Hun. But, eh, take a nap. It’s still early, and I know you’ve got schoolwork to do later. You sound like you’re about to keel over where you stand.” You scoff before agreeing with a muttered grumble, most likely already stumbling to the living room couch, and then the line goes silent and is replaced once more by the whirring of the helicopter blades.

The man peels back the phone and pockets it, hand unconsciously brushing his breast pouch where a picture of the two of you always sits. It was a baby picture, with your little form held in his grip delicately; looking down at you with soft eyes and an easy smile on his lips that always formed when he was with you. From under a soft blanket, your tiny hand reaches out to try and brush his stubbily cheek.

It never failed to bring him ease when he realized the photo was there. A reminder that if everything else in his life went horribly wrong, you would still be looking up at him with those eyes of yours. At the very least, he had managed to do one thing right.

“She’ll be fine. She’s a good kid.” Gaz calls at him, and John spares him a glance out of the side of his eye with a raised brow.

“I know she is. I’m the one who raised her.”

—

You remember eating a piece of toast before you made your way over to the couch, throwing your phone to the coffee table haphazardly before tossing yourself onto the cushions. Still in your pajamas, you can’t find it in you to go and grab the homework in your backpack this early. The sun had only just risen, and the bags under your eyes reminded you how late you stayed up last night.

But your father had never shown up.

Frantic was too light a word to describe the feeling you had when your eyelids had peeled back to the empty living room and the TV still playing. It had been second nature to snatch your phone and call the secure line – half of you had said it was better to call Laswell, just in case, but your adolescent brain had wanted nothing more than to hear your father’s voice.

He would make it better. But you needed to hear his voice.

Dad, you remembered pleading to yourself as the sound of the dial tone echoed in your ear, please answer the phone. Please. Answer the fucking phone.

Your heart was pounding; hands shaking. He never just didn’t show up when he said he was going to. Never. Your dad was punctual – always on time no matter what – and he had ingrained the same sentiment in you as well.

When his deep voice finally bounced in your eardrums you nearly started to cry, missing the first hurried and concern-filled inquiry of where you were. Hearing his voice put you at ease, and after a week of missing your father’s strong presence and his warm hugs, it was hard not to take a shaky inhale when he seemed so close.

You just wanted him home; you wanted him to make you pancakes and help you with your schoolwork. You wanted him to read a book to you on this couch like you were a toddler again while his old record player was on in the background.

It was childish, getting so worked up about it, but your dad meant the world to you. Not having him here felt wrong.

Sighing, you rub at your eyes and revel in the darkness before letting out a strained yawn, grabbing the blanket from the back of the couch and pulling it over your body. It didn’t take long before your eyes were flickering shut, a calm quiet settling over the house as cars passed by outside in the street. You pull the blanket closer and breathe, inhaling pine needles and ash.

You don’t know how long you were there, twitching in your sleep before the scent woke you up – it makes your nose scrunch, eyelids blinking away fuzz. There was a pillow under your head, the blanket wrapped tight around your neck to keep out the London chill, and a clanking of pans in the kitchen. Scraping spatula over cast iron, you knew, the sizzling of batter.

The haze of that in-between state, sleep and consciousness fighting in the back of your skull and under your hairline, stays even as you try to force it away. It was like a wave – it constantly pulled you under when you thought you were getting to the surface. Your eyes would blink open and closed; comforted back into sleep by the deep humming, the waver of an old record player. Feet over hardwood and the smell of fresh pancakes.

Dad’s home.

A delirious smile slides over your sleep-hot face. That was why you were so content. This was what home sounded and smelled like.

Dad’s home. You repeat it once more, nuzzling farther into your father's travel pillow he brings to and from Base. Pine needles. Ash. Cigar smoke.

Dad’s home! Your eyes snap open wildly, your body shooting up from the cushions as the blanket falls to the floor. Angling your head to the separated kitchen, you swipe the drool from your mouth with a heavy hand and listen.

Your dreams had tricked you before, but no. Not this time.

He was humming along to some old tune under his breath that mirrored the record player behind the couch; the antique turned low so it wouldn’t wake you. Blinking in shock, your mouth morphs into a rich smile instantaneously.

Throwing yourself off the couch, your feet slam to the floor, rushing and almost tripping over the blanket on the floor as your body slants forward. Giggling, you push on, righting yourself with no second thought other than welcoming your dad home the same as you always did. Zipping around the corner, a shadow is already turning your way, a plate of pancakes ready to be put on the table and devoured.

“Dad!” You yell loudly and launch yourself at him, hearing his chest let out a grunt and his hands splay around you so he won’t drop breakfast food all over the floor.

A velvety chuckle is wrung from his body, and his free digits go to rest heavily on your head as you shove yourself into his hold. Gripping his shirt tight between your fingers, you try not to cry when that scent that had been fading from the house comes back tenfold. Your eyes burn, but you only let one tear out when your dad’s finger begins stroking your hair just like he did when you were little.

You had been so worried.

“There’s my girl,” His voice whispers out, “I’m here, Sunshine. Easy now.”

“I thought you died,” You can’t help the helpless gasp that rips from you. Your father’s hand freezes; body going rigid around your smaller, desperately grasping frame. The atmosphere of the room flips. Digging into the fabric of his shirt the full flood of tears finally comes forward. “W-when I woke up and you weren’t here I… I thought you were never coming back home, and that I would have to go and live with the neighbors and I’d have to bury you in the cemetery. I don’t-don’t wanna have to put you in the ground.” You’re rambling, but you can’t stop the words. “I don’t want you to leave me alone, Dad. Please don’t leave me alone.”

At some point, the plate of pancakes had been tossed to the counter without care for if the porcelain cracked from the force, and both of your father's arms hand scooped you into his hold effortlessly. Your breath was hiccuping violently, tears making his shirt wet and sticking to his skin.

But John didn’t care.

He wrapped his arms around you and curled his body in, taking you into a hold so warm and tight you couldn’t leave it even if you tried.

What’ve I done? The man feels his lips tense, blinking down at your shaking body with guilt as you sob. Oh, my Little Girl, I’m so sorry. What’ve I done to you?

Had he never noticed the toll that this job was taking on you? John asked himself this in disgust as he pressed his lips to the crown of your head, whispering words into your hair under his shaky breath. He hated when you cried because of him.

“I’m not going anywhere, Love, alright? Look at me.” You don’t move your bruising grip, face still held away from sight as you gasp down frantic breaths. John’s voice gets firmer, “Sweetheart, I need you to look at me, yeah?”

Your tight fingers stutter, and your head barely shifts to the side, one red eye peeking up as he looks down at you with all the love he can muster without looking incredibly broken. He never wanted to see you cry again but knew that would be an impossible feat to accomplish – but he’d do his damndest to try.

“There she is.” John’s hand goes to your cheek, brushing away the saltwater with a calloused thumb as you sniffle. “Just keep those eyes on me, Little One.”

“...M’ not little anymore.” You grumble out, your cheeks heating even as your pulse slows as you focus on your dad's eyes. So soft the edges were nearly liquid; water that held your attention as they lapped across your form.

“To me, you’ll always be little. Can’t change that I’m afraid.” The man grunts out, tilting his head down at you and letting his eyes travel from concern to comfort. But that doesn’t change the present.

“I’m so sorry, Love,” Your father mutters, eyes flickering away from yours in guilt so rarely shown to others. He always prided himself on being strong, you knew, bearing the brunt of the weight. Apologies weren’t often verbally said until it truly mattered. “I should have called you. That’s all on me, that is. Bloody stupid to forget about, knowin’ how you wait up for me.”

Your lips thin to mimic your dad's, brows pulling close. But in your chest, your heart couldn’t be larger. You didn’t hold it against him, but you wished he could be here more often; not put himself in dangerous situations. Knowing as little as you did about your dad's actual job, you still knew it wasn’t entirely safe.

Maybe the two of you protected each other from the things unseen.

Your chest aches.

“...You’re funny lookin’ when you have to apologize. Like a kicked bear.” Pulling back your lips, a tiny smile lighting your face, and you look up at your dad with a sniffle in your nose.

His visage snaps to yours, eyebrows going high on his head in surprise, and hooded blue eyes widening. It takes a moment, but a smirk pushes back his beard when he sees the tears have stopped falling.

“Yeah?” John asks you, a grumble reverberating in his chest, “Now, y’know, that is just bloody rude, Sunshine. Thought I raised you better…And after I made you pancakes.”

Laughing, you pull back, stomach rumbling and nose twitching at the prospect of the nearly forgotten food. Slithering past your father, you snatch the plate and fork before rushing into the living room. Jumping on the couch you begin to cut into the carbs, piling pieces into your mouth and smiling at the taste. No one else could make them as your dad could.

The Brit comes not seconds later, a cup of tea held in his hand before he sits down next to you with a groan, stretching out and laying his socked feet on the coffee table next to your tossed phone from hours earlier. You giggle, suddenly leaning to his large frame and hearing him grunt in retaliation.

“Tell me a funny story,” You demand, listening to him sip his drink in the mid-morning glow that spreads outside the house and leaks in through the opened curtains. Birds sing outside, heard from the street.

Your dad hums, his beard tickling your scalp as he leans into you in turn, making you chuckle before he nuzzles against you kissing your head; leading to a larger exclamation of glee before you elbow his gut.

He laughs and answers with a smile in his voice.

“Hm, did I tell you ‘bout the time Gaz fell out of the Heli?”

You laugh, eating the rest of the pancake remnants; feeling incredibly happy and warm. There were many memories you loved of your dad and his recounting of stories fit many of them. He always kept out the gory bits – promising himself that he would never lead you down that path no matter what – and always opted for the many downright hilarious situations the rest of the 141 always seemed to get into.

“Yes, but tell me again. It’s funny, especially when you describe his face afterward! Like he–”

“Like he had shit his pants and didn’t want to tell me,” John chuckles, eyes squinted, looking down at you as you snuggle into his side. He wraps an arm over your shoulders, taking your empty plate with one hand and putting it on the side table before pulling you close and making sure his tea won’t spill. He feels your tiny, bird-like, heartbeat on his ribcage and knows that nothing could ever take you away from him. You would always be his little girl. “Yeah, Love, I remember that one. Now, let me start from the beginning…”

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barbiewritesstuff · 2 years

Text

Secret Girlfriend

-- Just a cute little thing about how the team finds out that Hangman has a girlfriend. It started out as a bullet point headcanon list but I decided to make them little blurbs instead.

Taglist:@mavswife @unsurebuttrying @dempy @peaches-1999 --

Coyote finds out when he finds her asleep on his best friend. Her head gently rising as he breathes, his hand tracing her facial features. Jake’s listening to music on his headphones, and he doesn’t know anyone’s watching.

Javi feels a little funny, like he’s not supposed to be seeing this and he needs to leave but he can’t deny it’s really sweet to see Jake like that, especially when Hangman coughs and she stirs and he spends the next minute coaxing her back to sleep.

From the darkness he can even see Jake’s smile when his girl nuzzles her face in his sweater as she dozes off.

Bob figures it out when he accidentally steps into the wrong hangar. He’s not fully awake yet and he ran out of the house too late to get some coffee in his system. His eyes are still a little blurry from the night and his brain is groggy but he swears he can see a picture on Jake’s dashboard. He knows he’s not supposed to look, especially since it’s not a crime for him to have a picture, it’s just out of character.

Bob climbs up the ladder and sneaks a peak. He’s half expecting a picture of Jake himself to stare back but it’s a girl in a cheerleading uniform kissing a quarterback. It takes a second for his eyes to spot the name on the back of the footballer’s uniform. Seresin. They look young but Bob figures Jake wouldn’t be carrying it around if they weren’t still dating.

He leaves when he hears footsteps in the corridor, careful to place the photograph back where he found it.

Fanboy meets her during family day. She’s about his height, his age and she’s gorgeous.

“Can I help you?” He asks. Maybe he can shoot his shot at a date, it’s been a while and he’s out of practice but hey, he can always try.

“I’m looking for my boyfriend” Her voice is nice, soft, shy but it doesn’t dampen the disappointment.

“What’s his name?”

“Jake Seresin?”

Oh. At first he thinks the poor girl missed the fact that Hangman’s not the girlfriend type, but then her phone rings and he can hear Jake’s voice through the receiver. Fanboy makes his exit before Hangman arrives. It’s not that he doesn’t want to see him, but he figures that if Jake goes through such lengths to keep his relationship private, he probably doesn’t want Fanboy sticking around.

Harvard, Yale and Halo see him waiting inside of a coffee shop. He’s on his phone and they debate going in to say hi, but before they finish that thought a woman sits down in front of him with a coffee and Hangman smiles so genuinely and so happily that there’s really no mistaking who she is to him.

She takes a sip, some of her hair dips into the foam and sticks to her lip. Jake leans forward and brushes it aside, he’s so distracted he knocks his coffee over and they scramble to move everything away from the spreading liquid, then, they look at each other and laugh.

Omaha finds out because he knows her.

His girlfriend has invited a few people over for dinner and they’re bringing partners. She walks in first, a bouquet of bright pink roses and a bottle of wine in her hand for the hosts and he follows suit. It takes a second for Jake to notice Neil just sitting there on the couch, staring at him with eyes as wide as plates, but when he does, he shoots him a look saying “We will never speak of this again”.

Omaha doesn’t. He sees Jake relax around his girl. He sees him being nice, funny and caring and Neil figures she’s good for him, so why ruin it by telling.

Rooster finds out when he pulls up to Jake’s house one day after training to bring back the jacket he forgot. He rings the doorbell and a woman answers. She’s wearing a shirt too big to belong to her and some bike shorts barely sticking out of the bottom.

“Hi” She says, clearly confused. Rooster lets out a nervous cough

“I need to return something to Jake”

“Why don’t you come in?”

She turns around and leads him up the stairs to a living room and a kitchen. There’s pictures on the walls, one of those scratch-off maps of the world. There are pizza boxes on the kitchen table and Rooster recognises Jake’s usual order.

Hangman saunters in a few minutes later with a can of something and looks at him like a deer caught in headlights.

Rooster just hands him the jacket and leaves.

Phoenix finds out last, when she and the team step out of the carrier after a mission. They’re just chatting when suddenly a dog beelines for the group. A woman runs after the pet, trying to catch it before it jumps and Hangman falls to the floor with a loud “THUD”. The dog circles him a few times, licking every inch of his person. He curls up on the floor, giggling.

“I’m so sorry! I swear I was holding her, the lead snapped and --” She grabs the dog by the collar and moves her away Jake. He stands up and smiles.

Then, suddenly remembering where he is when his girl's eyes glance away from him and towards the team, Jake jumps back into reality.

“Err -- this is my girlfriend. Honey this is the team”

“Hi” The woman waves

Everybody but Nat looks at one another and simultaneously decides to act surprised, largely to soften the blow for Phoenix, as she usually prides herself on her detective skills. The team’s not so sure she could take the hit.

Phoenix is almost mad. She would like to be mad, but as she looks at Hangman she recognises the way her dad looks at her mom even after thirty years of marriage and three kids.

She sees the look she has judged relationships by: “if he doesn’t look at me like that, then I’m wasting my time”. Phoenix can recognise pure, unadulterated True Love when she sees it.

And she understands him then, because if she was to find her own True Love, she might not want to share them either.

#fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun x reader #fanfiction #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #original fic #jake seresin #hangman top gun

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nyonyen · 1 month

Text

NSFW ALPHABET - randal

AO3

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

inseparable, attached to you like a damn lamprey (mouth included)

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

randal loves his tongue and how uncomfortable it makes you when he tries to lick your eyeballs he loves your stomach, he never fails to make you painfully aware that there’s only so much separating your insides from the outside

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

as for any hentai obsessed scum, he wants it all over you, no place uncovered. he’ll milk himself dry to make his own bukkake hentai, you know?

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

is there anything dirty about him that he keeps secret? well, maybe that he tends to prefer bottoming, or at least being forced into submission

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

hell naw. he-hell naw. randal’s nge doujinshis do not have any anatomical knowledge that could help!

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

spooning 100%, especially when you’re still asleep. just slip it to the side… it’s very convenient, and lets him easily breathe down your neck

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

he’s neither serious nor unserious, he just is

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

plucks each hair out with a pair of tweezers because it’s funny

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

full blown obsession. randal likes to call himself a yandere type when it comes to you, and is he wrong?

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

whenever the time arises, which is often, he plants himself face first, ass up, and jerks it crazy style

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

literally anything humiliating he is game for, receiving & giving. he also has a thing for making other people watch… forced voyeurism? he’s quite thankful for the hierarchy poster

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

in the woods, and in his coffin

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

nosebleeds, upskirt shots in anime (ecchi ecchi!), online arguments… what doesn’t get randal going?

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

uh…

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

in a perfect world, every time would be a 69, that’s his attitude towards it. addicted to fucking your face, and having you suffocate him

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

incredibly rough, no matter the speed

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

since his opinion on cum is quite… extreme, it is a bit hard to do quickies. however, when has that ever stopped randal?

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

duh. if there’s something erotic randal doesn’t know about, he’d be surprised

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

as long as it takes, that’s his prerogative!

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

addicted to toys. if there’s anything that can make you and him squirm beyond belief, he needs to have it. he’s partial to bunny vibes

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

teasing is randal’s middle name (probably). will deny you orgasms constantly, but rarely follows through. you just look so cute when you cum!

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

the loudest ever. luther scolds him day in and day out, but he physically can’t hold back. maybe gags are something you should explore?

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

draws doujins of you and him. it's incredibly cringy, but man... he definitely memorized your body. look at the detail!

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

5-inch, curved to the side (we know why)

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

insatiable. utterly insatiable, so please watch out for internal bruising, okay?

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

relishes in watching you sleep, so it depends on whether or not he wants to continue the pleasure in a shared dream :)

#randal ivory x reader #ranfren x reader #✎

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darlingpwease · 9 months

Note

Oh dear just trying find some more Yandere Xie lian

... words are modest enough to work, but we can work with it /pos

the flower and the butterfly

you're too stunning; how did someone like me get you?

𔓘 unhealthy behaviour (mutual dependency, gaslighting, clinginess, obsessiveness, possessiveness, manipulation), mild religious themes (worshipping, allusions), abandonment issues, touch starvation, domestic routine, forced relationship / kidnapping if you squint [?]

𔓘 heavy petting, rough sex, hypersexuality, role playing, CNC, mild primal kink, body worship (r.), praise (r.), hyperstimulation (g.), fingering (g.), breeding (g.), mild cum inflation (g.)

Xie Lian was mind-blowing. Not only in his appearance or behavior, which made him look like a timid coquette or a charming maiden, but also in the fact that you definitely do not want to test either his patience or his nerves, especially if you know him from the time when he was His Highness the 'eccentric' Crown Prince, who loves bright clothes and funny conversations, in which his warm hands were always reaching out to you, as if you were a continuation of his own body, — and you must admit that little has changed since that time, at least for you.

Xie Lian was still as charming and full of life, it's just that his temperament and disposition became colder and easier — for anyone but you, however. He still loved physical activities and delicious food, he still loved to emotionally warm and take care of you, he still allowed you to guide him and relied on you to solve logical problems, trusting your advice and words — and did not forget to wrap around you like a vine around another firmly standing plant, and the fact that his figure was just as flexible and slender, while soft palms could rest on your shoulders or chest, only made you feel even more as if you were hugging the first beauty of the Celestial Empire.

... Xie Lian did not like solitude or mundane things, the 'earth' that could pollute, — rather, he was that social aerial butterfly who loved to fly from flower to flower, despite how down-to-earth and firmly standing he was. At least not before.

Previously, he valued his status highly, worried about people's opinions, was afraid of public discussion and was more like the very flower that wanted to attract attention to itself, blooming stronger and stronger than a butterfly. Rather, you were the butterfly — the one who was able to attract the attention of a beautiful and alluring, but unable to move flower, only trying to grab you and lock you in, so that you would not go anywhere else. But for you, he has always been a fragile but luxurious flower, which you took care of as the apple of your eye, taking care that no one plucked and turned him over — after all, you have been with him since childhood, his most faithful companion, so it was natural that you were especially deep and intense related to him; so much so that no one even understood how you manage to be so synchronized and mutually supportive at the same time, as if it is worth separating you, you both will die even at dawn if cannot be sure that will meet again soon, but if you believe, you will never die before see each other again.

You couldn't deny that you spoiled Xie Lian with your determination mixed with almost imperiousness, while Xie Lian gave you too much of this unconditional acceptance and warmth for you to just give it up. He was everything, your everything, but it was nothing strange — nothing more than the relationship of a butterfly and the sun.

You only found out that your 'sun' was a flycatcher when the petals closed over you, leaving you inside forever.

Xie Lian valued social status most of all, always cared highly about people's opinions, was always afraid of 'what people would think', he lived for people. But when he was really bad, only you stayed and didn't go anywhere, even if the scratches from his nails still sometimes hurt like a phantom on your skin, — you will never dare to blame him, seeing with your own eyes how something breaks that you swore to protect your whole life, and that you won't give up no matter what. Because that's your goal. You will never give up, even if it means dying.

Xie Lian also knows that it is he who will protect all the time that he will have, no matter how little or much.

You have always affectionately almost teased him for how driven he is and easily obeys your will, like a duckling following a parent duck, but he also learned a lot during the time you guarded his back from attacks and shielded him from words. You were always in front so that he could follow you, keeping and guarding. You've always told him that as long as you breathe, nothing and no one can hurt him unless you die.

Butterflies are not meant for a harsh life. Butterflies should fly, eat nectar and dance in the air. Xie Lian loved butterflies and he loved you. And he never hid any of this, even if the second fact definitely confused you and made you brush it off when he brought you flowers or peeled fruit with a playful smile, 'as if you couldn't do it yourself' or 'as if you were a person of royal status'. Xie Lian never denied it, even though he knew it wasn't true.

You were his Deity.

His Everything.

And when the petals close, plunging you into eternal darkness, he knows what he's doing. After all, a sun like you is able to hold and shine even in the deepest nights, and it promises that you will not go out.

Never

You are the most precious thing he has left

𔓘 Xie Lian is very clingy — from the day you first met, bumping into the burning gaze of beautiful eyes, and until the very last day, which is never destined to come, he is always by your side just as you are by his side. Xie Lian hates to separate — never — and is always looking for reasons why you should stay together. Contrary to his gentle introversion, he feels really good only when he holds you in his arms or when your hand rests on his waist — and never in other cases. His pure adoring gaze never leaves your figure, fearing that one day you will leave him or leave him, no matter whether by your own will or someone else's, and he will never allow this — and the fact that there is no one in the world who could be his competitor or rival, given his strength, only makes the situation even worse for any of your attempts to leave his side at least for a moment.

When his slender elegant fingers take you by the shoulders, entwine around your waist, gently take your arm, wrap your fingers, or when his nose burrows into your neck, buries itself in your thigh, finds peace on your lap or hides rosy cheeks in your chest, — you know that you have no chance to get out of his sticky, strong embrace, as if your body was first his and then yours, “just like my heart...”

Xie Lian never allows you to leave him even for a moment — if there is a need for you to be disconnected, then he will rather give up everything than let you go. Not you. So many people have already left him — he won't survive if you leave too. Please. You're the only thing he needs. He feels so good. Isn't he good enough? Why do you want to leave? Isn't your cute little house perfect? Isn't the backyard garden laid out for you delightful? Isn't the way you live an ideal for you too? No, you can't. You have to be there.

Always.

You both gave up everything you had to stay together.

You promised that you would follow him in life and in death, for better or for worse. You are his and he is yours. And the fact that his hands never leave you, and his gaze never comes down from you, only confirms this. After all, can you refuse him? You swore — officially and unofficially; you followed him on sunny days and rainy days, through rivers of blood and deadly storms, when he was loved and when he was hated, but your will, mind and heart were adamant, despite fleeting thoughts and desires that could disturb you. And now you want to leave him?

It's your responsibility. It's your duty. You can never leave him.

... This is an order.

𔓘 Even if Xie Lian can sometimes fall into capriciously childish, desperate attempts to keep you, if he sees that you are trying to brush him off or want to leave him, no matter under what pretext, using his authority as the 'crown prince' and having a chance to make childish tantrums if you are too overwhelming and he knows that it will be effective — but otherwise, if Xie Lian is not subordinate, he is, at most, democratic and ready to share responsibility with you. Otherwise, he prefers to follow you in an almost 'sacrificial' manner and go wherever you tell him or wherever you go. If you say go west, he won't even look east; if you say sugar is black, he won't even think about saying it's white.

Despite his emotional playfulness and slight eccentricity associated with the desire to get emotional feedback, Xie Lian never seeks to take away power or responsibility from you, entrusting himself into your hands like a fluffy fragile cat who is sure that you will take care of him exactly as he deserves, and knowing perfectly well that even if your treatment will be 'unfair', then it will mean that he was bad and must improve.

Undoubtedly, he will be offended and will try to get fair treatment, but if you insist, he will only nod and obey. He is not someone who is interested in a power struggle or a change of power dynamics in a relationship — being behind you and with you is much better than against you or ahead of you. Xie Lian has never had any difficulties helping you and presenting things, even if it is clearly morally wrong or aggressive actions, — despite his peacefulness, there are things that are above the norms of morality or understanding of ordinary realities.

And there is nothing special that you are this 'thing'.

The flower never condemns the butterfly for what it does before it gets on the flower, or what it did while it was on the flower.

You are caring and affectionate enough, giving him small gifts (especially things that remind you of the past, like familiar flowers or small hairpins that he would definitely have worn in the past, even if he now mostly keeps them as his most precious things) and taking care of those household chores that he cannot, trying to preserve the memory of his beloved mother through the absence of such 'ordinary' skills, and you accept him as he is — while he accepts you as you are, without objections and questions.

You've been together for more than eight hundred years — doesn't that mean you've already had a diamond wedding eight times, even if you're still not married?

“It doesn't matter,” Xie Lian purrs softly when you point this out, hiding his face in your chest, wrapping his strong thin arms around your waist like a warmed cat. “If you want, we can officially get married. But we're not going anywhere from each other anyway.”

You have nothing to say to him. Having given up everything that was, following your impulse, entrusting everything to him when Xie Lian gave you everything he had in despair, so that you would not abandon him — you could no longer imagine your life without him, you did not know how to live without him. Just like he is without you.

You yourself do not notice when you become as close as a married couple; when it becomes natural for you to stroke his head on your lap, braid his hair and weave flowers and ribbons there, when you let him take care of your hairstyle and clothes, when you absentmindedly adjust the bandages on your hands — the same as at him — or look at him, leaning your shoulder against the door jamb, while he happily hums, doing his thing, although you are sure that out of the corner of your eye he is still watching you. When he hugs you on the back while cooking, takes care of your house and garden, watches you mend clothes or sweep while he fixes doors and windows; when Xie Lian hugs you in a dream, nervously enthusiastically huddles with a shy giggle while he thinks you are asleep, or briefly kisses your cheek before going to bed, and you are sure that he thinks that you are asleep, but you do not have the courage to try to even gently stop him.

In the end, there is no need for this — he has already become like a husband to you for a long time anyway, giving you his body, heart and mind, and you can only accept and give in return, taking care that Xie Lian knows that you love him and take care of him, no matter what.

𔓘 It doesn't matter to him what your sexual preferences are. Do you like dick? Do you like pussy? Are you top? Are you bottom? It doesn't matter — Xie Lian is always ready to meet you in any position and in any form, as long as he feels that you are as excited as he is, even if at first you can be sure that he is 'innocent' and 'pure', given his external and internal manifestation and attitude. But even if you are the first for him in every sense, he knows what he is doing and what he should do — more as an instinct than as a theory or, moreover, practice, although he is not above eavesdropping or fleetingly asking even when he was Crown Prince.

He is in a strong connection with his body and knows what can excite him or how to please even a lying log — especially if you are less sexually active or need a long warm-up — and even if the violent blush does not leave his cheeks while he nervously touches your body, openly admiring, Xie Lian gives his best until he feels that you seize the initiative and get involved in the process, digging your fingers into his hips while his stomach takes your shape and gives you a view of you inside him, feeling how wet and tight he is even if he can't help but hiding face behind hands, whining and moaning your name, mumbling something like 'deeper' and 'stronger' mixed with 'yes yes like that' and 'please please please' when you press his face into the pillow while fucking him.

His body is more than responsive and sensitive to you, and even if you pull his hair, spit in his mouth, spank and leave bites and hickeys all over his body, Xie Lian looks at you with adoration and worship, constantly thanking and admiring, as if unable to shut up from euphoria and delight, screaming your name and 'how good it feels' for him even while he is drooling and almost crying, trembling all over, but unable to stop squeezing and wrapping strong legs around your hips, locking you inside his supple heat.

No matter what, Xie Lian will never stop worshipping you, and during sex it gets even worse, as if the way his pussy or dick drips and practically makes a puddle even on the sheets is not enough — but when you just push inside once and he immediately comes, writhing on you, gasping for air, digging his fingers into your skin while his body tries to recover, and begs you not to stop, even though you see how sensitive Xie Lian is still, you try to be gentle to him, massaging his body until you drive inside at a confident but gradual pace, letting his wet tight walls get used to you inside and stop squeezing and massaging you so convulsively, as if he worships you, shamelessly begging you to never leave him and stay forever in this position, is not enough.

At first you try not to be too passionate and persistent, but by the end you are more likely someone who needs careful care and rest than he is — it's hard to exhaust someone so enduring and enthusiastic about the fact that he is with you like Xie Lian, even if you try to keep up with him, giving all of yourself, but in the end you are almost always on the more vulnerable side than him if you let him be on you before you spent enough time to prepare and his exhaustion, kissing and licking, stretching his wet squelching walls until you make sure that at least at about the same level after a couple of orgasms, watching as he tries obsessively trying to snuggle up to you and take you in — but can only stay under you, feeling how your fingers fuck him while you try to satisfy him with your tongue, assuring that you are only 'preparing him', although you both know that this is only an attempt to superficially satisfy him even before the beginning.

And the way Xie Lian jumps on you, impulsively kissing mixed with bites and purring about how good it is for him and that you are both perfect for each other, you are exactly one, only further assures you that you can just lean back and enjoy seeing how his juices and sperm flow down your skin until his body can't stop moving, as if his life depends on it — and how sweetly painfully he whines when you abruptly turn him over and take control of the rhythm, driving into his supple soft body, looking for any intimacy and connection with you.

Damn it, you are sure that one day you will become just one with him if he continues to squeeze you just as adoringly and as if trying to suck you inside while you stretch him with squelching wet sounds, hearing only encouragement and delight no matter what.

𔓘 Xie Lian can spend hours biting, kissing, licking and playing with your body.

In general, the prospect of staying in bed with you all day does not bother him at all — perhaps even thousands of years will not be enough for him to show and tell you how perfect and amazing you are, and how enthusiastic and hot he is does not help too much when his soft hands explore your body, rubbing and 'warming' in every sense, he is much less shy and ruddy than before, — which makes you wonder how much sincerity or games were in all his words to excite you, — especially when he almost shamelessly bares his body, as if proud of your love marks, even if just a few hours ago Xie Lian was blushing crimson, hiding face behind by hand, shyly taking your hand while you were rubbing between his thighs, stimulating yourself rather than him, since it is always wet and slippery between his soft thighs, as if even your palm between them is enough to make him aroused and ready, without needing any other simulation at all.

There's nothing awkward (or at least not awkward enough for him to refuse) for him to show you his body; even if Xie Lian doesn't think he's the most attractive, his body is what always turns you on, and he knows it, even if he can't figure it out. If you adored your body, it would make more sense to him than your strange passion for his own, but Xie Lian does not complain at all, secretly enjoying the fact that you find his imperfect body so exciting, even if he still turns to things like beautiful erotic underwear and devices like a collar or role-playing games to to excite you.

Some of these games excite and stimulate even more than sex itself — especially when you senselessly breed him outside your house, giving yourself to confirm your right to his beautiful tender body, biting and pressing into the ground until his knees weaken, becoming nothing more than prey in your hands, even if he is in any moment can get out, it doesn't matter whether using force or a safe word, — the sensations are too pleasant and intense to even think about it, letting you drive in and use it, it doesn't matter if he is a 'prey' or a 'capricious prince'.

When his clothes show a lot more skin, or when you see a blush on his beautiful cheeks after hard work, or when he clings to you trustingly hotly after a hard day, looking with innocent, darkened eyes into yours, you really don't know whether you should admire or be embarrassed, knowing how subtly and frankly he pulls you by the strings — and knowing that you just need to show a little skin or interest so that he immediately responds, more than interested in everything that you are ready to give him.

You don't know of any couple where at least one member was as obsessively adoring and enthusiastic as Xie Lian, who is always on a 'low start' regarding everything that concerns you, but when he squeezes you tightly while you gently press on his stomach, lovingly teasing that he is still 'soft', Xie Lian, blushing shyly and biting his scarlet lip, only complains coquettishly in a weak voice, looking away, that you just don't 'care' enough about him — and you really have nothing left but to take care of him.

Take care of him very carefully.

#.spicy♡#❖.my jewelry #🥮 — heaven official's blessing #✉.xie lian #🧸.yandere au #🧸.rough sex #🧸.breeding #🧸.t*#🧸.body worship #🧸.penetration giving #🧸.hyperstimulation #🧸.hypersexuality #xie lian x reader #xie lian smut #yandere xie lian #dom reader #top reader #heaven official's blessing headcanons

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kogji · 2 months

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Kazuma Sohma; The father

It isn't common to see a caring parent in manga/manhwa. Usually the characters deal with their problems alone and their parents are either dead, absent or abusive. That's why Kazuma Sohma from the Fruit Basket manga was a very nice surprise for me.

He is the grandson of the previous cat, and he feels guilty for not taking a cooky from his caged grandpa for fear of getting cursed. He regularly visits the grave of his grandfather, who isn't even allowed to be buried in the Sohma cemetery. When Kyo loses his mother, he takes him in as an opportunity to repent.

Kazuma is a calm, humble, and wise person. He feels responsible not only for Kyo, but for the rest of the zodiac children who are being discriminated against and abused. Unlike Kyo's father who sees him as a monster and his mother who doesn't let him leave the house, Kazuma treats him like a normal child, introduces Kyo to the world around him, spends quality time with him, and isn't afraid to hug him. He teaches him karate as a mean to control his anger and channelize it. Soon Kyo learns that he can trust this man and knows that if he runs to him there are arms open to embrace him. He wishes that kazuma could be his father.

One of the things I love about Kazuma is that he doesn't just see Kyo as a victim and believes that he needs to change, stop denying his true self and running away from it. He wants Kyo to stop blaming Yuki, and believes that one day he will be loved and respected but he should earn it first.

Even when he realizes Tohru's feelings for Kyo, he worries that it is nothing but pity because he knows that the reason his grandmother married the cursed, caged cat was just pity. He would rather Kyo be alone than be loved at any cost.

He enjoys pulling Kyo's leg and deliberately says things to provoke him. He no longer hugs the teeanage Kyo, but he always caresses his head. His affections are so obvious and unfailing that others also notice the genuineness of his paternal feelings. He is a strict instructor though.

He considers Kyo as a troublesome child who should wait patiently for him to grow up and mature. He allows Kyo to fall and rise from the bottom and does not pressure him. His acceptance and patience despite his own discomforts and fears for his son's future is admirable. He suffers from Kyo's bitterness, smiles and gets over it.

Even though he knows that his decision to reveal Kyo's true form to Tohru could ruin his relationship with him forever, he accepts the risk of being hated for Kyo's sake. He knows that if Kyo cannot accept his true form and understand that he can be loved even in his monstrous form, he will never be able to change.

When he attends the parent-teacher meeting, he is different from other parents. Although he has his own doubts and worries, he jokes that he cannot see his son as an employee or a student and only asks Kyo to inform him of his decision.

Being clumsy at home after raising a son fo r a decade is pretty funny. He doesn't even know how to make tea and always burns the fish. For a boy who grew up with burnt fish, Kyo turned out to be a very good kid.

#fruits basket #kyo sohma #tohru honda

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strawberry-milkbunny · 5 months

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Naruto is my Roman Empire and I’ve been reading MadaTobi fanfics so these r my Founders Thoughts that nobody asked for:

- Tobirama had a crush on Madara and it PISSED HIM OFF like they def had hate sex at one point LMAO

- they literally worked together ur rlly gonna tell me they didn’t have SOME moments of civility btwn them?? (lowkey that’s wild tho having to see ur brother’s murderer everyday at work-I like Tobi but I’m just sayin)

I WANT A WORKPLACE SITCOM WITH THE FOUNDERS SJSKKSKS:

- Tobi doing experiments and scaring the villagers

- Tobi teaming up with Madara to make Hashi do work

- Hashi making flowers w/government documents

- Mito sipping tea while encouraging Tobi to revive the dead

- everyone in the Tower side eying the sexual tension btwn Madara and Tobi and them never denying they’ve fucked before

- Toka cackling in the background

- Hikaku spraying water at Madara like a cat every time he throws a temper tantrum

- Kagami popping in to make sure his clan head doesn’t kill his teacher PERFECT SITCOM MATERIAL

- totally personal preference: Naruto should’ve had more BLOOD AND GORE. I wanna see the grittiness and horror the shinobi world actually is and how revolutionary Naruto as a character is by choosing peace over violence. The only time we get that is Obito vs Kiri nin, Uchiha Massacre, Wave Arc, Orochimaru…before it turns into DBZ fights

I’ve said this before: Sasuke was in a seinen Naruto was in a shounen

- the warring states is literally the perfect place for exhibiting the horrors of war and humanity. Bloodline thieves, child hunting squads, GIVE. IT. TO. ME. Madara and Hashirama experiencing all of this and wanting PEACE FOR THEIR YOUNGER BROTHERS UGHHH ROBBERY‼️‼️

SORRY TW IMPLIED SA !!:

I HC that bloodline thieves is prob why Madara wears gloves….being a YOUNG (he’s been on the battlefield since he was 8??) powerful, prodigy and future clan head of a famous kekkai genkai it makes sense why he doesn’t like skin-contact/sexual repression and repulsion. And why we don’t see female Uchiha shinobi (excluding misogyny) simply bc there’s such a high risk of SA in this era

Moving on:

- Tobi and Izuna were jealous of how their brothers were being taken away. It goes past the senju/uchiha rivalry like they were just kids and were plain jealous.

- Madara and hashirama def share 1 brain cell LOLLL. Like they’re besties for a reason, Madara acts likes he smarter but nah he’s as much of an idiot as Hashi is. They’re both dreamers let these boys live and skip rocks together!!! 😭😭

- let’s be honest: Tobi built the village. Mans was doing ALL the logistics and infrastructure

- tobirama is soooo second son/eldest daughter coded it’s not even funny. The SPARE, serious and emotionless bc he needed to always clean up after his siblings, DUTIFUL, prob has a praise kink etc.

- Madara is an eldest daughter who also prob has a praise kink and touch starved

- NONE of the founders r well adjusted like they went from spending everyday of their lives at war to tryin bring peace and start essentially a ninja-revolution (PLS GO TO THERAPY)

- madara was just the most open about it: being isolated and feared by his own clan BC he was powerful, trying advocate for the village and peace, all while grieving for his last brother…yeah it makes sense y he went crazy or at least wanted to leave (fuck Kishimoto for that Kaguya bs and fuck Zetsu)

- I don’t actually believe he was trying destroy the village idkkk. I think he was trying to do an SNS aka using fighting as a way to communicate with Hashirama and well…yIkEs

- tobirama is 1000% unadjusted: mans literally created a Justu to revive the dead. You cannot tell me that doesn’t REEK of desperation and loneliness. He’s lit rally the OG mad scientist

- hashirama rlly thought sealing the Bijuu and giving them to each village was a good idea….sir WHO TF GIVES NUCLEAR WEAPONS TO SHINOBI???!! 😳😳

- I think hashirama and naruto lowkey can be summed up as: a powerful idealist. Which is a very dangerous combination. Take that how you will especially considering how shinobi thrive off of violence….it kinda makes sense how we ended up with canon Naruto

- Madara has a god complex and knows it. Hashirama has a god-complex and doesn’t know it. (God of Shinobi title def got to him and understandable)

- the founders failed and they know it. But I also kinda love it?? They’re so flawed and human as leaders and you can see how their mistakes drag into Canon Naruto. It also makes me so sad knowing that Konoha was built to prevent child soldiers and give protection only for it to actually be WORSE (Kakashi ITACHI SANNIN ik for a fact it must’ve hurt Hashi to know ur own granddaughter left the village)

Uchiha are: love is the death of duty while the Senju are: duty is the death of love and neither of them will forgive each other for picking one over the other‼️‼️‼️

- proving this ^^ w/Hashirama’s weird af characterization: aka him being a loveable idiot but at the same time CONGRATULATING Itachi for killing his own clan for Konoha…. I feel like that rlly showed me how much of a war veteran/shinobi Hashirama actually is and how he will always pick duty

- we were ROBBED of baby Kagami/hokage Kagami 😤😤😤 I’m sorry Kagami should’ve been made Hokage it just makes sense personality wise and politically wise. The only way I could see him not take it is bc he needed to be a clan leader/placate the Uchiha/help Hikaku.

- I wanna see him process the loss of his clan leader, teacher, and eventually friends to a point where Danzo takes his eyes

- everyone on Team Tobirama had a crush on Kagami at one point

- one of my fav HC: Tobi and Madara co-parenting Kagami. There’s no way Madara didn’t check up on Kagami being taught by THE senju which makes his defection hit harder for Kagami 😭😭

- BABY SANNIN ‼️‼️‼️ Tsunade was old enough to meet and remember Hashirama it makes sense that Oro and Jiraiya meet the founders

- omg could u imagine being Edo Tensei Hashirama?? Ur granddaughter’s weird friend revives u using the Jutsu ur brother invented that you specifically FORBID 😭😭

- Hashi and Tobi staring at Orochimaru like “you look familiar???” IT HAS SO MUCH COMEDIC POTENTIAL

- Mito revolutionized female shinobi like she’s def the reason ppl realized that girls can fight (Senju Toka was an exception) STAN MITO 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

- Mito pulled a Tsunade and mentally yeeted out of Konoha after Hashi and Tobi died. Bc the way we NEVER hear about her and Hiruzen interacting except for Kushina, even tho she’s literally RELATED to the other 2 hokages….ROBBED 😵‍💫

- I HC: she was dealing w/grief (the fall of Uzushio made it worse) and she was lowkey pushed out of the council by Danzo FUCK DANZO

- I love the idea of Mito wooing for Hashirama’s hand/politically smart Mito!! It was a political marriage that grew into love. There’s no way she DIDNT suspect an attack on Uzushio lik it’s literally an island w/Kiri as it’s neighbours….Konoha gets recognition and stability while Uzushio importantly gets mainland allies

- Mito tops btw she’s def pegged Hashi before 🫢

- if Madara or Hashi had sisters/born women they would’ve def had a marriage to solidify their alliance. This makes Japanese homophobia not make sense esp in the shinobi world bc their clans trusted each other w/o backup like marriage?? Idk I’m just kinda confused y it was never even brought up for an alliance…

*cue MadaTobi arranged marriage au 100k, enemies to lovers, slowburn*

- also to dude bros homophobia has no place in the Naruto world (and IRL BTW) outside of making heirs. They’re literally MERCENARIES You telling me Kakashi has never fucked another man for information before??? Pls be serious I’m begging y’all 🙃🙃🙃

- there’s def family drama amongst the senju!! Idk I feel like Hashirama and Tobirama have the relationship of: “they love each other but don’t like each other” which makes Madara’s inclusion even worse for the brothers’ relationship. Like they def always had each other’s backs but never actually felt like they understood each other.

- I wish more fanfics/canon covered the shinobi-civilian politics more (I love politics lol give me world-building kishimoto 😤)

- Civilians hold power. THEY have all the MONEY to pay shinobi

- I’ve rlly only seen 1 fanfic that involves the Fire Daimyo during the Warring States Era (Into the Wide Blue Yonder it’s a KakaSasu Time travel fic that actually ✨works✨ 12/10 recommend) but it’s true.

Wtf is the Fire Daimyo doing during this era??? Why is he being so placate about Senju/Uchiha war unless he just sees it as entertainment?? How have shinobi NOT fought against rich civilian politicians before?? (Introducing Maoism to the naruto world lol 🤔🤔)

- Kishimoto curse ur goldfish brain….

- the uchiha and senju were def broke in this era, LMAO especially the Uchiha and I mean resource wise. War is EXPENSIVE the Uchiha don’t have Hashirama and Mokutan, they couldn’t just grow food whenever they wanted. It makes total sense that they would agree to a ceasefire just to prevent STARVATION

- once again…. robbed in terms of seeing the aftermath and devastation of war and learning how to live in a morally grey, politically unstable, resource limited world which could’ve brought in the ultimate themes of peace and the cycle of violence, and the question of if violence and war is ever justified, but…..no ❤️

#naruto #MadaTobi #hashirama senju #mito uzumaki #senju tobirama #madara uchiha #kagami uchiha #brainrot.txt #roman empire #silly little thoughts #warring states era #I think I’m a Madara stan now???#I blame ao3 for my MadaTobi brainrot phase #pls give me a founders sitcom #tw sa implied

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anki-of-beleriand · 6 months

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Bad Liar ch. 6

Summary: Life is about lessons, and Wanda has been learning some harsh facts that had define her life and taken her to a place in which she was given a second chance. Then, all of a sudden, she meets you, and she realizes why it's easier to lie to yourself than to accpet what's right in front of her.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff/ Female!reader - America/Kate - Mentions of past Vision/Wanda - past Natasha/Reader - Some Female!Reader/Carol Danvers - past Shuri/Female!reader

Warnings: Slow burn - lightly Enemies to friends to lovers - Mentions of abusive relationships - Toxic relationships - angst - drama - mentions of abuse - unrequited love - gay panic - fools in love - more tags as the story progress.

Author's note: New chapter and yes! This time around things start changing, and Wanda and R are experimenting some emotions that may changed their lives forever, so obviously they do the most mature thing they can do...they denied them.

Thank you so much for reading, commenting, liking and reblogging the story guys! Remember that English is not my mother tongue, so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18

Chapter 6

Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt

In the blink of an eye your relationship with your neighbour changed.

None of you were too sure as to how it happened, or when exactly it happened. But after that fateful day, in which you had played the part of a hero, you and Wanda engaged in a game of playful and deep conversations over the chat in your phones. For more than two weeks, you would seek your mobile while your heart skipped a beat, your lips curling into a strange smile that was not missed by those around you.

The changes had been so slow, and so deeply engraved in the idea of a new friendship that you and Wanda missed the signals.

The questions about the twins well-being turned into questions about preferences in music and movies, it became conversation about current events or what you usually do in your free time. At some point, even the friendly banter you two shared in the chat made you think of a juvenile adventure, but the thought was soon dismissed by your rational side telling you that friendships were supposed to be like this. A friendly chat, and a bickering friendship whenever you saw her right outside her home with the twins.

Whatever game you had entered into, for America and even Carol it was pretty obvious something had changed, and while Carol was trying to figure a way to reach out to you and not lose you; America had seen in your eyes, in your behaviour, in your phone who was behind the sudden changed. But whenever she tried to delve into the subject your quick dismissal and tangled explanations told your sister you were not ready to face reality. Much like Wanda, whenever America was to ask about the growing friendship between the both of you.

Of course, that didn’t mean you were not allowed to make questions or seek the answers eating out at you. So, when America couldn’t answer your questions about Wanda’s relationship status, or where was the husband and the father of her children, you went after the next best source of information you had.

Natasha Romanoff sat right in front of you, with her power suit on and a playful smile on her lips. The restaurant was packed, and the muffled conversation around you two was enough to bring relief to your mind that no one would be able to snoop into the conversation you would hold with the other woman. Natasha leaned in, her chin resting on the back of her hand, while her eyes gleamed with a knowing glint you had always hated on her.

“Now, this is quite surprising.” Natasha Romanoff leaned back on her chair; she tilted her head with her full lips drawing a tantalising smile you had come to know too well. “You either want to reignite a flame, or you are looking for something, Y/N.”

“Can I invite one of my oldest friends to lunch?” You retorted sounding slightly offended, Natasha snort signalling with her hand to the waitress.

“You hadn’t invited me to dinner since you broke up with Shuri.” Natasha had always been straight forward, you could always count on her to be direct and honest with you, and her brutality had saved you any trouble to not face the truths right in front of your face.

“So, what is going on?”

You shifted on the chair, the waitress taken the order from Natasha and then from you, he smiled bowing his head while giving Natasha a quick glance before walking away. The older woman tilted her head, resting her cheek on the palm of her hand while her eyes twinkled mischievously at you.

“Is it your new girlfriend or…”

“Oh, god, does everyone know about Carol?” You inquired frowning deeply. “She is not my girlfriend…”

“Someone should tell her that.” Natasha rolled her eyes leaning back. “So, what is it?”

“Wanda.”

Now this got Natasha’s full attention.

The older woman leaned forward again, her single eyebrow lifting slightly while her eyes twinkled with interested. Her lips quirked upwards, and you could tell she was trying to figure out what were your real intentions behind such a question. You pressed your lips together, tapping the table with your fingers drifting your eyes around the restaurant before settling them on Natasha.

“So, Wanda…”

“Now, stop right there, Tasha! I know that tone of voice and it’s not what you’re thinking.”

“It’s not?” Natasha chuckled, tilting her head. “I heard you went nurse on her and her kid a couple of weeks ago, and that you even brought Christine to her home to make sure the kid was fine.”

You rolled your eyes, of course Natasha would know about that. The freaking woman had a special ability to know everything that happened around her friends and the people she loved.

“Come on, Y/N, what is it you want to know?” Natasha finally inquired; you pursed your lips leaning forward lowering your voice as you did so.

“Her husband, the father of her children…what happened to him?” You didn’t beat around the bush with the question, Natasha scowled at you waiting until the food was served and the waitress had gone to speak again.

“Why are you asking this?” She finally asked piercing you with a deep stare, you shifted on your chair scrunching up your nose contemplating the real reasons for your question.

The truth was you hadn’t stopped thinking about Wanda since the day of the school event. The fact you got to see the glimpse of her family and a part of her you didn’t know was just a plus of what you were looking for. Why did you want to know that? Why was so important to know if the father of the twins would be back? If he was in the picture?

The answer to that question scared you.

More than you care to admit.

And thus, you decided to change the answer in your mind, it was not so much about Wanda, but the twins and what little you had discovered about them (and her). With that in mind, asking about the father, about Wanda’s status as single or with someone would be easier to handle.

The lies we told ourselves could go beyond the unimaginable, and you had learnt to lie to yourself a long time ago.

“I just…well, I was wondering if he is in the picture, why wasn’t he with her and the twins. I mean…”

“He is alive.” Natasha cut off your babbling, her posture never changed but her eyes were now analysing your every move, your every word.

“Oh, that…that’s good.” You replied frowning at your food, you pressed your lips tight while lowering your head.

“You don’t sound so happy about it.” Natasha replied after a few bites, you lifted your head offering a bittersweet smile.

“Oh, I’m just…I mean, are they divorced or…?” You trailed off clenching your eyes closed, Natasha snorted taking a sip from her glass before speaking.

“It’s not my story to tell, Y/N.” She straightened up and made sure you could not take your eyes away from her. “But I do want to make something very clear, Y/N, I won’t let you play with her the way you’re playing Danvers. Wanda doesn’t need, nor does she deserve to be played at by anyone. Not that Carol does, but with Wanda it is a little different.”

“I’m not playing with Carol or Wanda, that’s not what I was asking you this.”

Natasha shrugged gauging your reaction as she kept talking.

"Either way, Wanda is not gay, not even bi so…"

You placed a single hand on your face, hiding the growing blush on your cheeks. Natasha stretched her hand to grab her glass of water, her deep blue eyes seizing you up quite surprised by your sudden interest in Wanda.

"I'm not interested in her, not in that way." You stated with a straight face, trying to convince Natasha as much as yourself of the veracity of your words.

Natasha hummed, not really believing your words but not ready to start a discussion that you were obviously not ready to have.

"Then, what is your interest in her? Last time I checked you two didn't get along because you decided to be a bitch on your first encounter."

Natasha chuckled just as you rolled your eyes making a face.

"I wasn't being a bitch, she was being overly dramatic, that's all." You straightened up, lowering your gaze as you continued. "Anyway. I just noticed something the day I helped her with Tommy, I was just curious, that's all."

Natasha wanted to add something else, she could only imagine what you had discover to trigger the curiosity. Afterall, Natasha had accessed to the medical file of the twins and Wanda, she knew exactly what you had found that day. But for the moment, she would not dig further into your real intentions, and would play along with you while also finding her own way to know exactly what your intentions with Wanda were.

"Well, as I said, that's not my story to tell, perhaps you could take a chance of this newfound interest and ask her yourself."

You were very tempted to press the topic, and for a brief moment Natasha thought you would do it; but soon your interest drifted and the conversation changed into one of pure business and plans for the future. The questions you were left with, however, never left your mind, and you were already trying to devise a way to get the answers you were looking for.

Natasha or her part smiled to herself, you had played right into her hands and she had a plan for you already in mind.

‘This ought to be fun…’

_________________________________________________________

Winter had come early that year.

The rainy season had given way to low temperatures, piercing winds, and white, teasing snowflakes that would come from time to time to tease the inhabitants of the city Wanda now called her home. She glanced out of the window, with her eyes following the twirls of wind and snow dancing in the streets while the school offered a protection and warmth she was grateful for. She placed her chin on her hand, her green eyes softening slightly as she remembered the recent conversation she had been holding over the phone with Y/N.

Her lips curled slightly, she knew you were stubborn, but she never thought you were such a petulant child. The discussion had been quite foolish, and you had stood your ground quite firmly by sending her papers written by people Wanda could hardly recognize. It amused her to not end knowing how easily you get riled up whenever you knew you were in the right but someone tried to tell you were wrong. It had been quite some time since she found herself so relaxed by talking to someone that wasn't her therapist or Natasha, and the fact she didn't need to discuss her life and the problem plaguing her mind was a refreshing situation. It made her eager to continue talking to you, to allow the small glimpses of friendship to sprout so easily.

Wanda quite enjoyed contradicting you and whether she knew it or not, she was starting to look forward to those hidden conversations on her mobile.

“You seemed quite content over there, Wanda, good day?”

Wanda jerked away from her position, turning to see Natasha Romanoff standing by her desk, her head tilted to the side and her blue eyes twinkling with amusement just as Wanda felt her cheeks warm up at the sudden intrusion.

“I…yeah, you could say that.” Wanda straightened up trying to organise the paperwork laying on her desk. “Is there something you need from me, Natasha?”

“My, Wanda, can't a friend come over and see how you are doing?” Natasha sat down on the desk, crossing her legs while leaning forward, her eyes following Wanda’s gaze to the world outside just before she settled on the mobile the young woman had on her desk.

“Of course, you can.” Wanda replied, lifting her head to stare at the older woman. “I'm sorry, it’s just I thought perhaps you need something or…or something had happened?”

The unasked question hung heavily above their heads; Natasha shook her head glancing at the mobile on the desk vibrating under the pressure of a series of messages. The young woman went to grab her phone, but Natasha was faster than her, her red, puffy lips curling into a smile. Wanda felt her cheeks burning with embarrassment, and her heart hammering against her chest as if she had been discovered doing a naughty deed.

"Y/N? I thought you hate her." The statement rolled out with a hint of amusement and inquiry; Wanda looked down with her hands wriggling around a piece of paper.

"Hate is a strong emotion…"

"You said, and I quote, I hate that bitch." Natasha chuckled watching the mortified stare crossing Wanda's face at hearing her own words thrown back at her.

"I was mad that day." She defended herself by stretching her hand to the other woman wiggling her fingers in request of her phone. "I don't hate her, but I do think she is annoying and sometimes stubborn and quite frankly she is a spoiled brat."

"Ah, so you like her." Natasha was enjoying this conversation far too much.

The older woman raised a single eyebrow, her eyes studying every reaction that Wanda was experimenting. From the way those green eyes open wide, to the pinkish colour of her cheeks and the sudden trembling on her lower lip. Natasha was not a fool and she suspected something was happening, but she didn't dare yet to put a label on the sudden relationship between Wanda and Y/N, it would be far too early and far too foolish to jump to any conclusions. What Natasha did know was that this newfound friendship was helping Wanda with her mood, so the older woman considered that a winning situation.

"I wouldn't say I like her, more like I tolerate her." Wanda replied with a small voice. "She did help me with Tommy, and she is America's sister so…"

"Of course, it's not a matter of liking her but of putting up with her."

"Exactly." Natasha rolled her eyes but decided to not press the situation any further.

Wanda grabbed her phone, her eyes falling on the screen and her fingers trembling lightly just before she put the gadget away.

"Anyway, I came here because I talked to Y/N today." This seemed to grab Wanda's attention, Natasha narrowed her eyes before continuing. "Every year, just before Winter break we have a celebration for the seniors and really for the whole school. Y/N was supposed to be the organiser this year, and as our newest addition I also proposed you to be part of the committee."

"Me?" Wanda felt dizzy at the proposal, this could mean a lot of things for her.

She knew such an important position would require time and dedication, but most importantly she would be working right alongside you and that was something that was making her feel slightly anxious.

"Yes, it has been a couple of months since you got here, Wanda." Natasha softened her expression standing by the window before turning to Wanda. "You have done amazing work with the students; they love you and it is about time for you to make a name for yourself. Get notice and get credit for the amazing ideas I know you have, let everyone else know you and… Who knows? Perhaps, this is what you need to start healing."

Wanda nodded tentatively, she knew the responsibility she was being given was Natasha's way to empower her and get her more familiar with the world she had been introduced to.

"What about the press…" Wanda started and she was quite shocked to see the smirk on Natasha's face.

"Now, that's where Y/N comes in, she also needs this, and the press would be busier with her in the spotlight." Natasha winked at Wanda. "I've already spoken with Tony about this, your name would be hidden by everyone but the board, and you can work marvels without fearing your name would go out there and put yourself and the twins in danger."

Wanda knew she was given too much, but the old fears came rushing in. She remembered the old wounds on Tommy's back, the overprotective nature of Billy, her own weakness and incapability to form new bonds, to allow others closer. Wanda crumbled under her fear of Vision finding her again, and this time around, of Vision keeping his promise of destroying her and the twins.

"Natasha…" The name left Wanda's lips with a quiver.

The older woman stepped closer, wrapping a comforting hand around Wanda.

"Don't worry, Wands, Vision would never find you out in here, I made sure of it."

"I just… I know it's s a great opportunity, but he threatened me… Billy and Tommy… And he has money, and…"

"It's gonna be fine, Wanda. I know it is."

Thunder rumbled right outside the classroom, the silver light of thunder ignited the darkened hall and America jumped slightly with her eyes wide to the door of her classroom. Soon the two women engaged in a conversation America was not ready to hear, a conversation that would be far too intrusive to listen to.

Stepping back, she turned around and left the hall before she could be discovered. The information she had just gathered out of chance store in her memory while her hands moved swiftly to write to her friends and call on an emergency meeting.

Now, more than ever, they needed the help of Kate's company to know the truth hidden behind Wanda Maximoff’s sudden appearance in the Academy.

_____________________________________________________________

The supermarket was full.

Everyone seemed to have chosen that day to fill up the pantries back home to prepare for the long weekend. Wanda winced when Tommy and Billy ran to the section with sweets and packaged goods she knew she would fight over with the twins. However, watching them ran free, with smiles on their faces and not a single sign of sickness or fear in their eyes was enough for her to allow them to pick something up to enjoy after dinner.

Wanda glanced at her phone, the notes app had the list of what she would need to make sure to spend some time with the twins and, perhaps, to repay the help you and America extended to her weeks ago. This last thought made her hesitate, she chewed her lower lip, with a crease of her brows at the sudden summersault her stomach experiment at the thought of having you back in her home.

“Let me guess, you are ready to fight over a box of Mac & Cheese and a yoghurt?” Your teasing tone was not missed by the young woman that turned around wide-eyed and flustered.

“Y/N!” She exclaimed, putting her phone away rather quickly, you tilted your head with an amused smirk playing on your lips.

“Wanda!” You exclaimed back, chuckling, walking closer to her, your eyes danced up and down her body before focusing on the cart she had behind her. “Ah, you already have the Mac & Cheese…but you are missing this!”

You put from the supermarket basket a six pack of your favourite yoghurt; the same one you had taken from her on your first encounter. You winked playfully, chuckling when Wanda merely rolled her eyes, clicking her tongue while shaking her head.

“Right, are you gonna take it from me like last time or…”

You opened your eyes in mock shock, leaning over and placing the pack on Wanda’s cart. Wanda shivered lightly, your close proximity letting her catch the smell of your perfume, and the warmth emanating from your body.

“Never, please allow me.” You straightened up but never bothered to put some distance between the both of you, you were enjoying the nervousness coming off from Wanda and a part of you was tingling all over to perhaps do something rather dangerous and daring.

“I…I...Uh…” Wanda was trying to say something but your eyes on her, and the teasing smirk on your lips made her lose her words.

“I’m pretty sure there is an intelligent thought behind those beautiful stutters, though I think you’re a lot smarter when you write to me than when you talk to me…”

“Oh, shut up!” She replied slapping you playfully on your arm, your laugh made her blush and stepped back to put a safe distance between you and herself. “I was just…I was just thinking that I never thought I would find you here.”

You nodded, turning to the sound of laughter coming from down the closest aisle, in there you could see the twins that had found America strolling around. You smiled at the sight, soon finding the figure of Wanda all the more comforting at the foolish scene the five of you played inside your head.

“I came here for some groceries, and something for tonight's dinner.”

Before Wanda could ask about the dinner, she heard her name and yours being called from two different parts of the supermarket. Wanda turned to see her children running towards her with America smiling sheepishly, you turned to the other end to see Carol Danvers coming with a satisfied expression on her face and the can of goods she had been looking for. Your stomach dropped, remembering the reason you ended up in the supermarket after work, and a sudden wave of guiltiness came over you when you realised the blond-haired woman had been really excited when you invited her over for dinner that day. You dared a side-glance to Wanda that was now engaged in a discussion with the twins, and a pang of affection mixed up with your guilt for the whole situation.

Something absurd, if you think about it, since you shouldn’t be feeling guilty about anything at all. You were not doing anything wrong, and whatever mixed up emotions you were experimenting, it was the mere confusion that Wanda had come to create in your mind by being herself.

“Hey, I found it!” Carol exclaimed happily, stretching her hand with a proud stance, she drifted her attention from you to the redhead talking with two children and her eyes opened in surprise, though another emotion flash in her eyes. “Oh, Wanda!”

Wanda turned around and she too was highly surprised at the sight of Carol in there, her eyes went from Carol to yours then back to Carol. You could see the realisation flashing in her green eyes, and your mind pressed over for you to speak and clarify the situation.

“Eh, Carol, right? Hi.”

“Yes, the very same.” The woman stretched out her hand, and Wanda soon found herself under the firm grasp of the woman. “How have you been? I never got a chance to ask Y/N how you were feeling after that night, I hope everything went well.”

Wanda shifted uncomfortably, shooting you a quick glance before returning her attention to Carol.

“It did, I was just…not feeling myself that day.” She retorted softly.

“Mom! Can we?” Billy stepped forward putting the pudding box up, pouting and putting on his best puppy stare to make Wanda give in.

Carol stepped aside, she was surprised by the sight of the kid but pleasantly so as she stood beside you, her hand sneaking in to entangle around yours. You tensed, grabbing the offering hand without actually looking at the blond standing beside you, Tommy stepped forward moving past his begging brother to look up at you with a shy smile.

“Hi, Y/N.” You knelt down letting go of Carol, while smiling back at the boy.

“Hey, Tommy, how are you feeling?”

“Better, thank you.” You ruffled the kids' hair winking at him.

“Nah, it was all on you, kiddo, you were a real superhero.”

Tommy smiled please, and you stood up to see Wanda about ready to burst under the begging of Billy and the sudden tension in the group.

“He is quite persistent, eh?” Carol commented amusedly, Wanda winced tilting her head.

“You have no idea.” She replied while lifting a single hand, Billy clamped his lips close while Tommy grabbed his brother dragging him away.

“Mommy said no more desert, Billy put it back.”

“It’s my fault, Professor Maximoff, I told them I could also make pudding for them next time I babysit.”

Wanda shook her head, her lips curling tiredly, “that’s okay.”

“I didn’t know you were so good with children.” Carol stated in a faint voice to your side, you turned to her eyebrows raised at her sudden change of tone and the close proximity with you.

“Why not?”

Carol made a face, shrugging, “you never seem the type and…I just thought it was cute.”

“Humph, I’m not cute.” You replied slightly offended, the woman rolled her eyes before leaning in to steal a kiss from you.

The kiss was supposed to last a few seconds, or so you thought.

But soon it became evident that Carol’s intentions were totally different. She put a possessive hand around your waist, pressing her body closer to yours while her lips danced sensually against yours, her tongue teasing around before she pulled away rather breathless and flustered. Whatever her intentions, Carol smirked satisfied, her eyes found those of Wanda that was shifting uncomfortably on her spot.

“Right, I think we better keep moving, there is going to be rain and…and the twins may catch something.” Wanda started talking fast, moving back while placing the pudding box on her cart. “It was nice seeing you, Carol, Y/N, America. I may need you tomorrow but I will text you the details…bye!”

You had never seen the young woman move as fast as she did at that moment, the twins waved good-bye and soon they were following their mom towards the other end of the supermarket. America stood there with a frown, her eyes found yours and the both of you had the same questioning glance on your faces. Carol on the other hand was tensed, her eyes flashing something cold with hints of sadness in them.

“Shall we go?” She asked, you turned to her frowning before nodding.

“Yeah, are you okay?” You stepped forward but Carol stepped back.

“Yes, just tired and a little hungry.”

“Okay, yes, let’s pick something else up and we go home.” You mumbled slightly confused, your heart hammering against your chest and your mind a twister of emotions, memories, and thoughts involving the woman you hadn’t stopped thinking about ever since you met her.

______________________________________________________________

Dinner had been a quiet event.

Something had been bothering you all afternoon and part of the night, and Carol had long lost the battle to try and regain your attention. She and America spoke most of the night, with Carol speaking about her adventures and the long process that led her to be the most decorated Captain in the air force and the newest commander of the base.

America had enjoyed the conversation, she asked questions about life in the force and the possibilities that could be opened for her. But as the conversation took a more professional note, you couldn't help but drift away into your own thoughts.

By the time you and Carol were left alone, you were even more confused than ever, and this only made the breach between you and Carol that much bigger, deeper and almost impossible to cross.

"You had been awfully quiet all night, is something the matter?" Carol had not missed your mood, and a part of her continued holding onto the hope that your relationship would turn out to be something meaningful.

"I'm just tired, and thoughtful." You replied offering a small smile. "Today was a long day at the office, and I followed your advice so tomorrow I will have lunch with Hope."

"You do?" This time around Carol was completely surprised, her face relaxed at the news and she took this chance to come closer to you.

"Yes, I think it is time to just rekindle that friendship and…" You shrugged, leaning back to face Carol. "I did miss her, you know?"

Carol knew.

The last year had been a complete roller-coaster for you, Carol had been there the moment you broke up with Shuri and your inner circle took sides without knowing the full context of the fight. Carol had found out by chance, but Hope had heard both sides of the story and had stepped aside by trying to balance her friendship with Shuri and with you. The breakup, as well as the weight of the daily business and raising a teenager had left you in an emotional state you wished to never experiment again. It was in the midst of such disarray that Carol and you made a deal.

Carol never imagined she would want more, and you never entertained the idea of falling in love again. And while you had been firmed in your resolution, Carol had been breaking the silent deal she had made the first night she spent in your bed.

Now, after almost six months of the affair, Carol realiser she had been a fool.

"I was offered a new position." Carol stated all of a sudden, she placed a hand on your shoulder and her fingers started a game you knew well enough.

"A position? Where?" You shivered as her fingertips brushed against your skin, her lips wrapped around your earlobe.

"They are renewing the security plans in the base of Eastern Europe." She whispered, her hand moving down your open shirt, your hands already positioned on her lower back pressing her closer to you. "They want me to lead the new training drills, and be in charge of the whole operation."

The blond-haired woman trembled with her legs spread and her clothed crotch pressed tentatively on your thigh. You lifted your leg applying more pressure, a soft moan leaving Carol's lips.

"What are you trying to say, Carol?" You asked softly, this time around you leaned in kissing the woman on her lips tearing out of her a needy moan just as you pressed her closer to you.

"Come with me." Carol finally stated, breathing hard, her hips rolling to get more friction.

She fluttered her eyes open, and as soon as she did she knew the answer to her question. Her face fell for a moment but a spark of determination ignited inside her chest. She offered a mischievous smile and without any warning she knelt down, her trembling hands playing with the zipper and the buttons of your pants.

"Let's just talk about this later." She finally mumbled, lowering your pants and underwear and digging right in your already wet pussy.

Your thoughts leaving your mind as soon as her tongue came into contact with your pussy. Your hand pressing her closer never once did you notice the tears in her eyes.

______________________________________________________________

Hope had chosen a nice restaurant right outside her office. The place was small, cosy and filled with sweet aromas of homemade food. The music was a remembrance of your teen years, and you couldn't feel more relaxed under such an atmosphere.

"So, you like the place I chose?" Hope asked amusedly, you snorted tilting your head with a shrug.

"It is nice." You played the nonchalant card, but Hope was not having any of it.

"I knew you would like it." Hope took a sip from her glass glancing around the place before letting her eyes rest on you. "The food in here is amazing, and actually this is a good place to think and have private conversations."

"Private, eh?"

Hope shrugged leaning back on her chair, "it's been a while and in my office we have the risk of one of my patients coming over without knocking, like Wanda did last time."

At the mention of the young woman you felt your body tense, your eyes diverted their attention from Hope to some unknown spot in the restaurant. Hope narrowed her eyes with some interest, filing this reaction away to bring it over later.

"Right, like last time…" You grabbed a napkin facing Hope with some trepidation. "How is she?"

"Who? Wanda?" Hope opened her eyes until the face you made told her the other woman was not the one you were talking about. "Ah, she is doing fine. After her brother's funeral she and her mom took some time off work and now they are back. It's just that she is not overly fond of coming back to the States."

"I see, that's good."

"And you? How are things with you, Y/N? What about America?" Hope was being honest in her questions, she had lost contact with you but she never stopped loving you like a sister.

She listened attentively as you evaded the topic of your life and instead focused on America and the family business. The conversation about your sister made Hope smile, she knew you adore the kid and your life decisions had been made around her well-being but she also worried that after your break-up with Shuri America had become your only focus.

"Right now she is just… Trying to decide what to do." You shrugged, shaking your head. "I just have a feeling that they would end up in the same University…breaking havoc as always."

Hope chuckled, America and her group of friends had been like that ever since they were little children. Everyone was expecting great things from them.

"Okay, that was a long storytelling about America, her friends, her future, school, and about your business and Tony, and Strange, and…"

You rolled your eyes, making a face you busy yourself with your fork. Hope tilted her head softening her stare.

"And you, Y/N? How are you, really? What about Carol? I heard you and her were a thing… But…"

Hope could see the topic become personal for you, your whole stance changed and soon your eyes dropped. The woman waited for a moment, her eyes never leaving your form and you knew she was just analysing your every movement and your every word.

"We were just fucking." You let out a heavy sigh after that, Hope winced at your crudeness but was really not surprised about it.

"I met her the other day, you know?" Hope pursed her lips before continuing. "Are you sure it is nothing else…?"

"I know she wants more." You replied. "But I made it clear to her, I cannot…"

"You can't or you don't want to? There is a difference in there, Y/N."

You fixed your position on the chair, grabbing the glass of water before speaking.

"I don't want to, Carol is amazing. She really is, but my affection for her doesn't go deeper than friendship." You took a long sip from your water, Hope offered a sympathetic smile. "I know she wants more, but I can't give her that. I don't want to hurt her."

"Well, it is inevitable, she has always had a crush on you and you just gave her something she wanted."

This revelation came as a surprise for you, Hope could tell you didn't know that detail about Carol.

"She never said anything."

"You are hard to crack sometimes, Y/N, and you were so absorbed in your pursuit of Shuri and all that you missed her feelings." Hope shrugged. "But now it's your time to make it right, if there is nothing else you can offer than a night of sex then you better end that right now."

You nodded furrowing your brows for a brief moment. Hope narrowed her eyes at you, and the next question almost made you choke on your own spit.

"And what's your relationship with Wanda Maximoff?"

"What?!" You exclaimed, changing to different shades of red. "There is no relationship whatsoever! What made you say that?"

Hope raised a single eyebrow, waving her hand away pointing at you.

"That reaction."

"This is nothing but me thinking how ridiculous you are being, Hope." You huffed indignantly, finishing your glass of water while looking away. "That woman is insufferable, and she has two kids, and really I find her quite dull and… And…"

"Insufferable?" Hope chimed in when you seemed lost at words.

"Exactly!" Hope rolled her eyes and you clicked your tongue aggravated by the suggestion. But there was something else, you grabbed your phone putting it away protectively while you made sure to never look Hope right in the eye.

She was very tempted to press the conversation, but she had a better idea.

"Right, sorry I ever asked." She stood up putting some bills on the table. "Walk me to the office, I have an appointment in five minutes."

You let out a sigh of relief, standing up you left a generous tip before going out of the restaurant. The day was cold and dark, but people were enjoying the Saturday afternoon with long walks and shopping for the holidays. Hope started talking about her own family, and how she had spent her last eight months away.

You listened carefully, always enjoying the presence of one of your oldest friends in ways you never thought possible. For a moment, you entertained the idea of telling Hope about your recent confusion, but voicing your thoughts would give a form to something you didn't want to face at the moment. Besides, it was nothing! You were confused because you had found in Wanda a kind heart and two amazing children, it was nothing more than sympathy.

The theory you had played inside your head crumbled the moment you found yourself staring into a pair of deep, green eyes.

"Wanda! I'm sorry to take this long, this slowpoke was just entertaining me after lunch." Hope let go of your arm coming towards Wanda and giving her a warm hug.

You stood there mouth hanging open as Wanda turned to Hope.

"Don't worry, I just got here as well so I didn't have to wait…" She trailed off, hesitant at first before turning to you. "Hello, Y/N, I hope you are doing fine."

Her tone was quite different, detached and almost cold. You furrowed your brows but soon shook away your head and offered a half smile.

"Yep, more than okay, Princess." Wanda tensed at the nickname, and Hope was having the time of her life observing the interaction. "What about you? Did you have a good night?"

"Not as good as yours, I bet." She replied icily, you opened your eyes with your lips parting with an answer at the ready but before you could say anything Wanda offered a strained smile to Hope. "If you don't mind, Hope, I think I will go inside. I need the bathroom. Y/N have a nice afternoon, give my best to Carol."

And with that she left in a hurry. You stood there slightly hurt by this reaction, but you concealed your expression as soon as you felt Hope's knowing stare on you.

"Right, she is crazy, I tell you no wonder she is seeing you."

Before you could go, the voice of your best friend stopped you.

"Don't judge her too harshly, Y/N, you don't know the whole story." Hope approached you giving you a long hug. "Stop running, Y/N, and start living, you fool. We will talk about that next time. Don't be a stranger."

"I won't."

Hope lifted her face to the building, a spark of curiosity awakening in her. This session promised to be an interesting one.

______________________________________________________________

Wanda hadn't stopped pacing around the room.

She had served tea twice, and her purse was left forgotten on the sofa while she babbled about the progress she had made, how empowered she felt at the moment. She talked about her job, about her family and her brother, she told Hope about the photo album and about her children. And just like that, her conversation went down a path she had tried to divert for more than thirty minutes.

"I have never been so scared before." Wanda dropped her weight on the chair, her hand resting on her forehead, covering the rampaging emotions going through her at the memory.

"I can't imagine what that might have felt for you, Wanda. Your children are your main motivator, and finding that one of them is suffering…"

"I thought I was failing; you know?" Wanda finally revealed. "I couldn't stop his voice from drilling mocking words inside my head. It was as if his predictions became real."

Hope scrunched up her nose, she let out a huff that Wanda answered with a crooked smile.

"Habits are difficult to break, his voice may be there as a memory but not as a compass to your actions." Hope softened her gaze. "But how did you overcome such hardship? Is Tommy doing better now?"

This time around Wanda leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees and the wrinkles around her eyes and the bridge of her nose softened considerably. Hope observed with a twinge of interest the reaction, she didn't miss the body language and much less in the words Wanda was using to talk about what happened next.

"He is so much better now, I actually received help from my neighbour."

"Y/N?" Hope straightened up, her eyes going wide at this revelation.

"She and America, they came in and…" Wanda trailed off looking away from the knowing glance of her therapist. "Can you believe they are sisters? God, America is like the sweetest, smartest and kindest person I have ever known and Y/N…"

"What is it? Hope finally asked after a minute or so, Wanda shifted, crossing her arms and clicking her tongue.

"She is just… Infuriating!"

"I agreed though I believe you and I have different reasons for thinking that." Hope stated amused, Wanda winced leaning forward again.

"I know she is your friend, and she did help me with Tommy, but she is just…"

Wanda trailed off again, Hope waited for a moment and soon Wanda let out a heavy sigh.

"She is confusing." Wanda finally said, frowning at her own words. "And this thing she has with Carol, showing off as if…ugh, can you believe she was showing off last night? It's just…"

Wanda trailed off leaning back, "it's confusing."

Hope lifted a single eyebrow, her lips twitching fighting over her obvious reaction to such a declaration.

"Whatever you mean by that, Wanda? I mean, what does Carol and Y/N, for that matter, have anything to do with your confusion?"

Wanda pressed her lips together, her heart hammering against her chest and her cheeks tainted in pink. The young woman opened and closed her mouth before dropping her defences.

" I didn't know she… I mean that Y/N was into… I mean… " Wanda stuttered trying to find the right words, Hope waited for a moment before talking.

"Into women?"

"Yes!" Wanda exclaimed wincing, she had heard something of course, but to actually see you with the blond-haired woman, shared such a deep kiss, it had ignited inside Wanda an emotion that made her heart twisted with a painful thud.

Seeing you today, after what Wanda had seen, what she had imagined you and Carol were doing back in your home, it was almost ridiculously unbearable for her. Wanda wanted to come onto you and slapped you, but as soon as that thought sneaked in, another stranger, yet familiar emotion came to the surface.

Sadness.

"She is confusing, sometimes.". Wanda hesitated before continuing. "Sometimes she is… She is this nice person and some others she…"

"She is confusing." Hope chimed in, Wanda nodded and the look of pure panic and puzzlement in her green eyes told Hope this was a topic she could not press any further without discussing other important points about Wanda.

"Wanda, before Vision, was there anybody else you were interested in?"

The question caught Wanda by surprise, she straightened up, tilting her head while frowning a little. The young woman was trying to remember her childhood and her teen years, flashes of people she had been interested in came rushing into her mind but most of them had been singers or actresses that called her attention.

Then, she stopped her trail of thoughts. Actresses. No, actors. There was this one actress that she had always thought was beautiful but that was admiration, not attraction.

Then, she tried to go back to the mirage of faces until she found herself thinking of you. Her heart leaped, and Wanda shook her head rapidly.

"I…I don't remember." She stuttered, glancing at her feet.

"You don't remember or you don't want to say?" Hope pressed but Wanda didn't lift her face, and Hope knew the other woman would say nothing else about the topic.

However, Hope had sowed the seed of doubt and that would be enough to press the matter on another session. For now, she was starting to see a pattern in Y/N and Wanda, a dangerous game that if executed incorrectly could leave the women involved more miserable than they already were.

"I think this is all for today." Hope stated and she could tell Wanda was relieved by this.

"Okay, yes, today was…" Wanda gestured with her hands but said nothing else.

"It was." Hope smiled and Wanda hated the fact her therapist knew more than she cares to admit.

There was a long silence in between, Hope could tell Wanda was in the middle of an internal battle but the contents of this battle were the myriad of emotions Wanda had allowed herself for the very first time. Independence.

Wanda was finally freed to make decisions on her own, to take the path she thought better for herself and her children. Wanda was finally freed to be herself, and that was something the young woman was discovering little by little with the ups and downs that this discovery might mean.

“I never thought this was going to be this…difficult.” Wanda wrapped her arms around herself, she lifted her gaze to the ceiling pursing her lips.

“You are discovering yourself, Wanda, there are many aspects of your personality and even of your life that you hid in order to survive and to comply with what was expected of you.” Hope offered a comforting smile, her words washing over Wanda just as reality hit the redhead. “It can be difficult for as long as you fight it over, and this may happen because you are still fighting with the ghosts of the past.”

Wanda shifted on the chair, she never turned to Hope but the therapist didn’t need to see the expression on Wanda’s face to know she was struggling with the words and her thoughts at the moment.

“So, I could be…this could be…This is me?”

Hope tilted her head analysing the statement.

Who Wanda could be was more complicated than Wanda really knew, but certainly the little pieces that she had been revealing in the sessions and the little pieces she had discovered on her own were just a reflection of the amazing person that was hidden behind the masquerade of the well-behaved, quiet and mellow housewife that Vision had built from an early age.

“Isn’t it fantastic to start discovering what you are capable of? What can you really do? Who can you love?”

Wanda clenched her eyes close, feeling the tears rolling down her face. The last question made her heart jump and her stomach shrank with the sheer emotion of the real meaning behind such a question. Who could Wanda love…Who could be that one person she could love that would never make her feel the way she felt before.

The room drowned in a tense silence, without meaning to, and actually without thinking clearly about anything else Wanda lowered her teary gaze to the mobile she had dropped on the table. The screen popped up with a myriad of messages that had a single name on it.

A detail that had not escaped Hope at all, and that Wanda had evaded the moment the conversation turned to personal.

But now…Y/N’s name was a constant reminder that Wanda had been experimenting emotions she never thought possible.

And fear was still holding her back, and she was still denying herself the possibility of digging deeper into what she was feeling for the woman she had come across by chance. Wanda grabbed the phone in her hands, and with a tear rolling down, she put it away trying to hide the part of herself that Y/N had brought to the surface without meaning to.

_____________________________________________________________

Next chapter: Wanda's secret is out. Everyone has a plan, America is a fool and Kate decides that she can't wait for her any longer. There is a new player, and Wanda and Reader fell right into the schemes everyone prepared for them.

#fanfic #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wandaxreader #female reader #imagine wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #reader #MCU AU #Modern MCU #Female Reader x Wanda Maximoff

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