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cherubfae · 2 months

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jealous slashers~!✧

With Michael, Brahms, Jason, Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Vincent Sinclair, Bo Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Thomas Sawyer, Sal Fisher, & Patrick Bateman

tags: gn!reader, jealousy, creepy men, unwanted attention/touching, uggestive and mature themes, gore/blood, violence, canon typical behavior, billy x reader x stu poly, rob zombie!mikey, I know Sal isn't exactly a slasher but he's my baby and needs to be included

Alexa, play Love to Die by the Slashstreet Boys

Michael

Rest in Peace to the poor, stupid man who thought it'd be a good idea to mess with the Shape's partner, and Michael had witnessed it all. How this man shoves you into an empty alleyway, the clatter of your groceries falling. The guy doesn't get much more than a few bruises and claw marks when Michael's knife slices through the back of the man's throat, protruding from the other end in a splash of blood. The Shape watches you wipe your bloody face off, not doing much but picking up three of your four fallen bags and tugging you into his side.

Brahms

Absolutely not. Brahms is fuckin' seething from his safe space sheltered behind the walls. Heavy breathing muffled by the porcelain mask, he watches with wild eyes as some idiot decides to break into the mansion whilst you were sleeping, and proceeds to hold you at knifepoint, effectively pinning you to the bed in what little nightclothes you wore. The unwanted guest and you are certainly going to know when Brahms is upset. There's banging on the walls coming from every direction that leaves the would-be burglar panicked and you slightly more comfortable.

"You're not allowed to be here," comes the eerily childlike voice Brahms has perfected. He crawls his way out from behind the large antique mirror. "I'll make sure you never come near them again." With a sudden slam, Brahms downs the intruder with a lead pipe repeatedly bashing the object until all that remains was brain matter and gooey blood. He drops the pipe with a huff and collects you into his arms, the cool porcelain biting onto the heat of your chest.

Jason

As the protector of the surrounding forest, Jason is always watching. He's omnipotent, he sees all. He seems to know where people are at all times and he can sense when you're in distress. Your shared cabin door left ajar sends his blood boiling and his heavy footfall increasing as he approaches your home. Barging in, Jason's pale eyes lock onto you and your assailant holding you by the throat. His thunderous steps are quick, slicing through the man with his machete and proceeds to lift him up while still pierced with the blade. The man gurgles, arms weakly reaching behind him in attempts to claw at Jason. All attempts were futile. He tossed the body to the side before he gently frets over you, his large hands soothing the fingerprints tarnishing your throat.

Billy & Stu

Rather snake-like the two will wrap themselves around you (they adore your personal space) and stare down whoever else demands your attention. Billy's arm hooks around your waist and Stu wraps himself around your shoulder, tilting your chin up with a single finger. "Is this guy bothering you, baby?" Looking like a shark that's tasted blood in the water, Billy's eyes grow more wild. He's already making a mental note of who and where this guy lives. The guy raised his hands in defense backing down the more the two stared at him, walking off completely.

"We're gonna take care of him, doll," Billy promises, kissing your cheek. Stu cackles lightly, tongue sticking out. They would strike tonight.

Vincent

There's no one Vincent trusts more to watch over you when he can't than his own two brothers. He had his hands full, turning Dalton and Wade into wax people. Nick and Carly were proving to be hard to get a hold of and there was still another tourist that needed to be taken care of.

But then Bo is telling him that the person escaped and he doesn't know where you were. His two worst fears confirmed. Vincent is soon on a wild hunt, trying to find you anywhere with Bo hot on his heels. He soon locates you, passed out with a bit of blood on your head. Your eyes slowly open as he touches your cheek, catching you as you wobble into his warm embrace. He shares a look with Bo who nods.

"I've got you, brother. Keep them here with ya. Wait til I'm back, ya hear?"

Out in public, he's all cordial and kind smiles. Especially if this is an intended victim. Some random person putting the moves on his partner is a huge no-no and one Bo doesn't take lightly. That person just warranted themselves a for sure death sentence and Bo isn't feeling too kind, so perhaps he'll drag things out, yeah? Touch what's his and you got what's comin' to ya.

"Can I see, baby? That bastard leave any marks on ya?" Bo strokes your shoulders, blue eyes drifting over your frame like water. He has every intention of marking every place that person touched, no matter if you tell Bo the guy only grabbed your arm. Once he has his mind set on something, he's gonna do it.

Lester

Unlike his older twin brothers, Lester is actually pretty chill. Especially in comparison to Bo. He doesn't think much of the people he's helping get into Ambrose knowing full well it's their final destination and Vincent and Bo will take care of things as they always have. What he doesn't like is some dude making a pass at you right in front of him. Can't he see the engagement ring on your finger? It leaves a sour taste in his mouth, watching with narrowed eyes as the small group heads towards the mechanic shop in search of a fan belt.

A familiar hand on his arm calms him down instantly. He turns to you and musters a weak smile as your hands slide around his torso from behind, leaning your cheek on his shoulder. "Y'alright?" Lester nods too quickly and unconvincingly, giving you a quick kiss. "Yeah, darl', always."

Thomas

Your partner is not unlike a bear, watching with wild eyes as one of Hoyt's new catches clasps onto you, their nails digging into your arms, and pinning you to the barbed fence. The cry of pain you let out has Tommy barreling towards you, chainsaw revving to life. A deep snarl echoes behind his mask and he wastes no time cutting down the poor soul with a single swipe of his motorized saw. Tommy turns it off and picks you up in his large arms as gently as he can. With his masked cheek leaning against yours, he carries you back towards the house. Mama Luda Mae will take a good look at you.

Sal Fisher

Honestly Sal isn't one to get jealous. He's pretty level-headed and understanding in most situations. He respects your choices and he's not gonna step on any toes or do anything drastic; Sal isn't a monster. However, if he sees some guy make a creepy pass at you and clearly overstep your boundaries, he won't hesitate to swoop in, looping his arm around your shoulders. His sharp blue eyes staring at the man from behind his prosthetic mask.

"Do we have a problem here?" His voice is cold, lacking any interest in what excuse the man finds. Sal's main focus will be on you, rubbing gentle, soothing circles into your skin. His main priority is to get you away from this sicko and would totally call in reinforcements from his brother Larry if need be.

Patrick

A jealous Patrick Bateman isn't a good scenario for anyone. Especially not with his deteriorating mental state. He trusts you explicitly, with his thoughts, ideas, and recreational hobbies that most would find distasteful. So when a colleague of his gets too big for his britches and unabashedly begins to flirt with you in his presence, Patrick finds it difficult to keep his boiling bloodlust at bay. The heat of his anger is getting to his head, the fierce emotions only swelling well it's clear how uncomfortable you look in that man's company. He must see to put an end to him quickly.

|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024

"Are you alright, my darling? That man surely didn't know his place, did he?" Patrick places a hand at your back, guiding you out of the office party. "Let's get you home and into a nice hot bath, hmm? I'd rather not taste that swine on your lovely skin."

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screeching-bunny · 5 months

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may i request some yan!butler/maid hcs? ur fics/hcs r like my lifeline ALSO love love the name Ligma (srry for the poor grammar, english is my first language/hj)

Yandere! Butler Hcs

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

A/N: LIGMA BALLZ. Anyways thanks for liking my name it’s so fucking awesome isn’t it?

🌟 Yandere! Butler who’s a year older than you and has been serving you ever since your teenage years. He’s dedicated and willing to spend the rest of his life serving you as long as it means being by your side forever. He first becomes enamored by you when you happen to come by the shop he was working at the time. He was enchanted by you and after finding out that you were a noble, he began grooming himself in order to be the perfect servant for you. When the position of being an attendant opened up in your manor, he quickly signed up for it. Yandere! Butler made sure to perform his duties as perfectly and diligently as possible while in that position. It was all to ensure that he would be promoted to be personal butler.

🌟 Yandere! Butler was not able to communicate with you when he was first hired to your manor due to being too low of a rank. He could only stare at you longingly from afar and wish that he could be closer to you. Yandere! Butler during this time period would discreetly follow you around wherever you went. Although he wasn’t allowed to talk to you, he still wanted to feel like he was a part of your life, like some secret protector. While doing this he’s definitely stolen a few of your possessions and stored them for his own personal use.

🌟 Yandere! Butler is so enthralled when he finally gets promoted to being your butler. Finally!!! After all these years he can finally talk and touch his beloved person! He’s so excited that he can’t stop shaking with joy when he hears the news. Every waking moment of his life from this point in time will belong to you and only you. He is willing to do anything you ask of him. No matter how small or difficult the task is, he will make sure to complete it as if his life depended on it. As long as it gets you to look and notice him then it is all worth it.

🌟 Yandere! Butler is only loyal towards you. He is not willing to take orders from anyone but you, even if it’s from your own family members. How dare they try to take away his time and thoughts of you away from him? Have they no shame?! Yandere! Butler would definitely be willing to fight anyone who dares to insult you. He doesn’t care if they are young or elderly, his hands are rated E for everyone. His love language is words of affection, so get ready to hear a barrage of compliments every waking moment of your life. Even when you’re not around, he’s still singing praises about you much to the displeasure of literally everyone else.

Yandere! Butler: “Did you see them today! I swear they get more dashing every time I see them. I wonder if they’ll let me touch their–”

Random Maid: (crying) “PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, SHUT UP!!! IT’S BEEN TWO HOURS!!!”

🌟 Yandere! Butler is in charge of your everyday routine. He’s the one planning all of your meals and makes them personally. He will get upset if anyone but him makes you food because he makes sure to plan it perfectly in order to fit your nutritional needs. He makes sure to take care of you as if you were porcelain glass. His movements with you are light and delicate almost as if he were scared that you would break if he were ever too rough with you. He loves to hear you talk about your day and ramble on about meaningless things. It’s somewhat therapeutic to him and it’s like listening to an asmr podcast in his eyes. He takes in everything that you say and a majority of times gives good advice when you need it. If you ever fall in love, never tell him. He will either gut that person alive or give you the worst possible love advice you have ever heard.

“This guy I met at the bakery was super attractive. How do you think I should approach him?”

Yandere! Butler: (screaming on the inside) “You should tell him that he’s gross. I heard nowadays guys find it attractive when people play hard to get.”

🌟 Yandere! Butler legitimately thinks that you are the most perfect person in the universe and that no one deserves you, including himself. He doesn’t care that you may not ever love him, just allow him to stay by your side all of eternity and he’ll be happy. You could tear him apart or take everything he owns and he’d still be loyal toward you. When he signed that contract, he did not only just promise to be your butler but also made a heartfelt vow that everything he does will be for your greater good. He loves the look of a smile on your face and would do anything to keep it there. Murder is not beneath him, if anyone dares to make you cry then he won’t hold back. Whether it be poison, decapitation, drowning, and etc. He’s willing to do it for you, all in the name of love.

🌟 Yandere! Butler takes care of any task that you deem stressful and overwhelmed by. If he sees any type of distraught look on your face he is taking over. Has that business deal been causing you to lose sleep? Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, he’ll make sure to handle everything. Are you getting a migraine while doing some paperwork? Well then, wait right there as he brews you some tea and he’ll get right in on working on it. If he ever sees you sneeze and sniffle then he is going straight mama bear mode. He’ll force you to stay in bed even if you aren't really sick and he won’t listen to any of your protests. No job is a headache to him when it involves you in the picture. So why don’t you just sit back and relax so that he can just take care of you.

#yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere oc #yandere butler

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diejager · 3 months

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Sweetie i know it's been a long time but i really need more Brahms! König🥵🥵🥵!!!!

I KNOW! I STILL REMEMBER THE DAY MY FRIEND ASKED ME TO WRITE THE FIRST BRAHMS!KÖNIG. And I still remember how musky and broad Brahms looked like in the movie….

Brahms!König pt.3 Cw: DARKFIC, kidnapping, imprisonment, possessiveness, tell me if I missed any.

You could hear their voices, the confused and worried tones of your coworkers through the thick, sound-insulating walls of his little cave. He’d taken you to his home, within the walls of the dilapidated mansion, tying you to his bed and leaving you vulnerable to him and anyone who’d stumble into your restrained figure. You writhed on his bed, the sheet-covered mattress smelling musky and thick, it smelled of sweat and blood and earth, something too masculine, fitting of his stature and being. Your gag was stinky and crusted, a salty and tangy taste lingering on your tongue that told you enough of the cloth’s original use. You would’ve retched if you weren’t gagged so tightly.

Your eyes scoured his room, the dark and dingy basement lit up by a single light of his lamp, left on the small workbench beside every kind of artistic materials, glue, saws, scissors, needles, wool and string organised in their own corner of the wall. Despite the bright light, the rest of the room remained shrouded in darkness, shadows dancing across the walls like demons and monsters coming to haunt you in weakness, coming to join your captor in his fun.

You dreaded the moment he comes back, the silence of your cage a striking contrast to the bustling house you were hidden in. You feared what he’d do to you now that he had you, knowing that he was grinding up against you and rutting your thigh, panting loudly and grabbing at you like a man starved for attention —perhaps he was one. All your training and instincts failed you, stripped from any weapons and your gear, boots unlaced and toes curling in your socks, you’d been left in your undershirt and pants.

In your whimpering and fright, you almost missed the loud, telltale steps of your giant protector, walking down the narrow path to his room. Speak of the Devil and he shall appear. You glanced at him, and caught him staring back at you, your sweat-coated skin and flushed skin, naked to his cool eyes. He smiled through them, roving over your panicked expression, pinched brows and tense shoulders, down the slope of your abdomen and the curve of your hips before he moved, stepping closer and closer to you with a bright and needy gleam.

The bed creaked under his weight, slumping to the side as he sat down, his calloused hands cradling your face and coaxing you to look at him when you glanced away, his thumb rubbing the bags under your eyes. He cooed soft words and praises, as if he was calming down a cornered animal, waiting to hand you treats and praises, little caresses and adoring kisses.

“Look at you, Maus,” he sighed lowly, his auburn hair curled around his porcelain mask, tickling the edge of his ears, “You’ll be good for me, ja? If you behave, I’ll untie you, let you walk around our room.”

If you wanted a chance at freedom, you’d have to play into his hand, eat and drink from his big hand until he trusted you to leave you alone for an undetermined amount of time, hunting and scavenging the area he lived in. Gulping down you fear, you gave him a hesitant nod, eyes closed to accept the life you’d live for a while.

“Gute Maus.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny

#x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #konig x reader #konig mw2 #Brahms!konig #Brahms!könig #konig cod #könig x reader #könig mw2 #könig #dark cod #tw: dark content #dark content #tw: kidnapping #tw kidnapping #dead dove do not eat

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jomarch-wannabe · 2 months

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My hero

Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader

Warnings: light angst, arachnophobia, brief allusion to smut

The silence of the evening air shattered suddenly by a high pitched shriek, echoing through the walls of Arrow House.

Tommy was in his study when he heard the sound of your terror. Blood rushed into his ears, thumping with his pulse as he jolted from his seat, running towards the source of the sound. His chest tightened as he ran up the stairs, his breath coming in quick gasps. He had so many enemies. He feared this day would come, that something would happen to you. He choked on the thought, freezing as his alert eyes found you in the doorframe of the bathroom.

“What is it? What’s happened?!” He yelled, taking you in with wide eyes. His hand twitched as he habitually reached for his revolver.

“There’s a spider in the bathtub! It’s huge!!” You cried, shivering in nothing but a white towel.

He let out an exasperated breath, feeling the air return to his lungs as he pulled his hair out of his face. “Christ. A spider? You scared the life out of me, love, I thought you got killed.”

A tinge of guilt hit your stomach, seeing how distressed he was. “M’sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.. I just- hate spiders.” You murmured, the pads of your feet tip toeing against the floor as you approached him.

He knew from the pleading look in your eye that you needed him. As much as you scared the life out of him, he needed to be your protector now. Tommy transitioned into his stoic attitude as you walked him towards the porcelain tub, holding your breath.

“Ahh! It’s crawling this way!” You shrieked, colliding into his chest and cowering behind him. Your hands held tight to his shoulders, using him as a human shield.

Tommy smirked to himself, stepping towards the tub to investigate, pulling you with him. Your eyes dared to look over his shoulder. A quarter sized spider with a round body and quickly moving legs darted around the bottom of the tub.

“Doesn’t that give you chills?” You winced, ducking your head behind him.

He let out a breathy chuckle. “Grab me a tissue will you?”

You nodded, peeling away from him and fetching a tissue off the counter. Tommy smiled slyly to himself, reaching to grab the spider with an unfazed expression on his face.

“There,” he said, tossing the tissue into the trash can. “No more spiders.”

You leaned against him, resting your chin on his shoulder. “Oh Tommy,” you cooed dramatically, “You’re my hero. How could I ever repay you?”

A smirk teased his lips as he turned and captured your waist in his hands, gently pushing you against the wall. “I have a few ideas..” he spoke lowly, lips brushing against yours.

You flushed profusely at his proposal, feeling your towel drop to the floor.

Taglist: @kmc1989 @pacifymebby @shelbydelrey @peakyswritings @call-sign-shark

#Thomas Shelby #Tommy Shelby #cillian murphy #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x fem!reader #tommy shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby fanfiction #Thomas Shelby angst #Thomas Shelby fluff #x reader #x you #fanfiction #Irish men #Irish actors

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aurelion-solar · 3 months

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Porcelain Protector Aurelion Sol Concept Art - Steve Zheng

#aurelion sol #porcelain protector aurelion sol #league of legends #league of legends skins #lunar revel #concept art #abilities #official

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catfern · 1 year

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nsfw alphabet w ellie

pairing: ellie williams x reader

music: me and your mama - childish gambino

word count: 3.1k (whoops)

warnings: strap usage, masturbation, A VIBRATOR?? (briefly), possessiveness, slightly pervy!ellie, worship / praise kink mentioned, predator / prey kink mentioned, this is just porn.

an: the nsfw alphabet is all i know. i see it in my sleep. seriously i planned on doing this for ellie but i didn't expect i'd go this quickly. at least now i know the alphabet off by heart (i didn't know it before im dumb dumb stupid)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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

ellie is all. for. it. she goes all out even. she knows she can be rough, she has self awareness, and she is hyper aware of just how fragile you can be. she needs to take care of you. she’ll run a bath, light some candles, or let you slip your full body weight on her as you doze in and out, sleeping through your orgasm(s). it doesn’t matter, anything that brings you from that fuzzy, pussydrunk slut that she loves to torment back to her kind, loving girl is anything worth doing.

she’ll sit on the side of the cold porcelain bath, stroking the muscle aches out of your legs and taking the care to run the warm water along your lower belly. she’ll watch as your breathing slows, your head sinking slowly. and then she’ll carry you to bed, hide you away under the blankets to recover from the reckoning that is her.

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

ellie is in love with your hips. it’s a perfect anchor point for her hands when she’s holding you, obsessing over you. she feels along the sculpt of them with her finger tips, memorising the bone structure, the softness of the skin. she’ll sketch them in her journal, rough and undefined, obsessive and raspy. She is obsessed! She’ll hold onto them as she moves her way up and down your body, pressing wet kisses from chest to navel. she'll press small bruises into the sides as she loses herself in your cunt, trying desperately to hold onto to the tangible reality of you.

honestly? ellie really likes her arms. she was always seen as this scrawny little snot-nosed kid, so growing up and growing into her stocky frame, broad shoulders and toned arms, it’s something she’s proud of. and of course, her arms lift you up against the wall, her arms drive the power as she stretches her fingers in your walls. so of course, her arms are a fan-favourite as well.

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

god, ellie is savage.

your cum is sweet, a nectar on her lips worth tasting. she’ll lick her way up your inner thigh, tasting you like wine. she’ll bring her fingers to her lips, sucking the white lace with a fervour, your smell all over her, in all of her senses. there’s no escaping you, your taste. it’s almost unnatural, otherworldly, the hold you have on her when her head is between your legs. she is both briefly and forever yours, bound to you through the sickening sweetness of your slick.

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

i mean… ellie is a switch.

she tries her HARDEST to never let it show. she is, after all, the protector, the big tough fighter who swings unrestrained at anyone who looks at you with malice. but.

she just loves you so so much. and you’re so.. so.. beautiful.

it’s really mean of ANYONE to assume she wouldn’t swallow her pride and fall on her knees for you, with soft hands and pleas to let her in and let her taste you. she actually really really loves when you’re a tease, and you’re a little confident. she loves it because she can find her place so easily in your shadow, following you like a lovesick puppy, ready to do anything you want her to. hold her hand and take her anywhere, she’d follow willingly and with a little grin.

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

she’s definitely on the more experienced side of things. she’s a slut what who said that?! nah, she fucks around, she likes to try things out! so when she finally finally lands you, she knows her way around. she likes to brag about how little time it took for her to figure you out, but honestly, it’s not like you were hiding anything. she definitely shows off her experience in how confidently she fucks you, in how relentlessly she ignores your pleas to stop because she knows you’re just sensitive and she knows you can go another round.

Shh, babe, you can take it. I know you can.

Just shut up and let me make you feel good. You know I can, stop fucking around.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

ellie is all about having you in her lap. your legs spread, wrapped around her torso as she holds you, buries herself in your neck as her fingers dive inside you. feeling the way your ass grinds against her thighs as you beg for release, for friction against your puffy clit. fuck, and the access (!!) it gives her to your tits, to palm them, grab at the fat and grip them, pulling at your nipples roughly to send soft stings down your spine. holding onto the small of your back as you throw your head back, anchoring you to her as if there were no real separation.

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

ellie is a class-A shithead, and it’s really no different during sex. she’s a tease, she likes to poke fun at you, especially if you’re laying, dazed and fucked out.

Aw, look at you. Jeez, you really can’t take much, can you?

She’s really just an asker of questions, especially when she knows you don’t really have the words to string an answer together. This can be serious or teasing, but either way, it’s ellie reminding you just exactly why you put up with her ratbag attitude.

What did you say, babe? Speak up, I can’t hear you.

Tell me how you like it or we won’t keep going.

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

ellie does not give one single, flying fuck what she looks like downstairs. as long as it’s not unruly, and doesn’t get in the way, she’s fine with it. in fact, does she even understand the concept of being completely bare? absolutely not. it’s ridiculous in her mind. a waste of time. she trims back only the necessary, to look and keep relatively clean.

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

she’s never read any romance, or watched any romance. she’s not a consumer of romantic media but god, does she hit every fucking mark when she wants to. the soft, tender kisses, the slow hands, the praise. she can be very romantic when she wants to be, when the pendulum of her personality is sitting perfectly between her two extremes; her warm infatuation and her cold command.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

ellie got off to you way before anything romantic happened, shamefully. Just ask her journal. She’d hunch over it at night, in such unnatural and possessive form, obsessing over the peek of your stomach she saw that day, or the curve of your waist as you walked. Or more often than not, she’d piece together how you looked under all those layers, drawn in harsh charcoal lines. daydreaming about what it would feel like to have your hands on her legs, ghosting their way into her thighs. how it would be to have you under her, those perfect tits bouncing at her command as she thrusts her fingers, slick with your imagined cum, inside you.

after you two got together though, she’d snapshot every piece of you in surprising detail, shoving her hand in her pants at the memory of you. at everything she got to do to you, to do to the body she daydreamed about.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

ellie is the duality of man. she most definitely has a worship and praise kink, it goes with her obsessive side. she has painted you in every crevice of her being, and sees you in her peripheral vision by design. you’re everywhere she is, so naturally, she worships you. you, a deity, her, a disciple, she’ll kiss you tenderly, on her knees as she sings praise in your ear. and the moment you return it, with kind words and you’re so good, baby, thank you. FUCK. she’s all over you, gently, but passionately, worshipping every part of you like you were pieced together solely to be god’s divine on earth.

when she’s less obsessive, she’s possessive. hers, hers, hers. she would keep you all to herself if she could, it’s all she really thinks about. i feel like ellie would definitely develop a bit of a predator / prey kink (@bambiesfics her fic is the direct inspo) because of her primal need to have you, to cage you. you belong to no one else, and you’re hers to do with what she pleases, which is always making sure you feel perfect.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

gonna repeat myself AGAIN! when you get involved with ellie williams, you are all hers. there’s absolutely no sharing, no showing, no knowing. she’ll fuck you in the house, all doors locked, all curtains closed. one hand over your mouth, the other stretching your walls viciously, there’s absolutely no aspect of you that she’s willing to escape to the eyes and ears of others.

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

a dress. any dress. going commando, having no bra, bending over, grinding on her, dancing on her, the list goes on, but we’d be here all night if i were to do that. seriously, just you, but especially you in a sluttier form. keeping certain parts of yourself uninhibited, all for her, or at least she likes to think that. god. one time you wore nothing but an apron LORD. that really was all for her. any time you’re willing do anything just for her and no one else, the knot ever so tightens in her stomach.

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

ellie would never hurt you. there’s a little leeway, with a light slap to keep you focused, or the absolute abuse she hurls at your ass and cunt when she has the opportunity, but really, truly, properly hurting you. she knows that some people really like it! but she could never. you’re too precious to her, it hurts her soft side too much to let it slide. she is that big strong man, after all. she’s gotta protect what’s hers.

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

ellie is all about the giving (service sub much!!). she loves the sounds you make, the feeling of your legs clamping around her head like a gilded cage she begged to be in. and god, is she good at her job. she’s gentle most of the time , takes her time, listens to the softest of moans that slip through your lips, feels for your heartbeat on her tongue to know exactly when to dive her tongue inside you like she’s starved.

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

it rlly does depend. like i’ve said, she loves to take her time with you, unravel you slowly like a ribbon in a knot, working her fingers into your gaps to pull you apart with precision.

sometimes though, it’s just not enough. she gets jealous easy, and her jealousy isn’t pretty or whiney or healthy. her jealousy leaves bruises, and bites. her jealousy drives your head into the headboard relentlessly, beating you down into the rhythm in her head. mine, mine, mine. she’s fast, she’s uneven, for once, it’s not about you. it’s not even about her. her ruts and growls are primal, something completely untouched, the energy is raw, unforgiving, toxic as she rams into you at top speed, little regard for your choked moans or pleas to slow. you deserve this, she deserves this.

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

quickie? don’t know her. as desperate as ellie is for your touch, your taste, she thinks its only deserving that she devotes her time to you, to show you how much she cares for you, wants to make you feel good. plus, there’s a million things she wants to do to you while fucking you, so pulling you aside for a minute isn’t really gonna cut it.

and of course, it comes with the added bonus of making you wait. she loves a needy girl. so desperate and whiney, pleading with her for just 5 minutes of her valuable time. and she’ll turn to you, with a wild smirk, and tell you to wait. she’s busy, she can’t deal with you right now. god, your disappointment is tempting, but it’s even better to come home to you waiting for her, yearning, wet and pliant like a good girl.

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

i mean, she’s an adrenaline junkie, so definitely. if you have an idea in mind, she’s happy to try it. as long as it sounds fun, and includes her getting to smack your ass once in a while, she’s game.

taking risks during sex, however, isn’t reallyellie’s thing, unless you ask of course. She’s mean, she’s unhinged and a little bit pervy, but consent is her top priority! she never, ever wants to make you uncomfortable, or hurt being around her, so she’s not risking doing anything you wouldn’t like.

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

ellie is surprisingly steadfast. she doesn’t tire quick, she doesn’t let herself falter. sometimes, sometimes, she slows. gets too caught in the thick haze, the dull noise of your moans underneath her, the buzzing pleasure in her cunt. but she picks herself up quick. most of the time, your needs come first, and she keeps a personal best, in her journal, of how many times she’s made you come back to back, so she likes to push her limits.

usually, when the tables are turned, she can only last one round though. poor, sensitive girl. she can't take much, handle her with care.

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

ellie has a strap, sure. but c’mon, she’s a bit more creative than that. she enjoys the roughness that using a strap brings, but feeling you, actually feeling you. that’s different. stretching her fingers inside your puffy walls like she’s never known the feeling of anything else, manoeuvring with the precision that only a guitarist’s fingers could have, that a strap could never offer.

she does, however, like the jaunt of your hips when she has a vibrator on your clit. it’s big, it’s loud, it’s purple, it tells everyone exactly what you’re up to, but she doesn’t care. she watches how your eyes screw shut, how your legs move to close but she stops them, pinning one knee down on the bed with a harsh push. and she’s gotta admit, the feeling of the slight vibrations in one hand, as the other pushes inside of you, strong, slow. okay, okay, maybe she does like some toys.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

ellie is brooding, and grumpy, yeah, but she’s also fun. she loves to tease, to remind you of all the little sounds you make, all the things you blurt out during sex that you probably wouldn’t have said otherwise.

Don’t worry, darling. mommy will get that for you.

Come on! I wanna hear you say it again, it just sounded so good rolling off those pretty lips.

when she’s really horny which is all the time, she’ll tease you in public spaces. out in the club? she’ll brush a hand over your clothed clit while dancing. what? she didn’t do anything, ‘don’t look at me like that’. out to dinner? she’ll whisper all the things she’d really like to be doing with you on top of that table. Don’t act shocked.

Then, when the night is over, she’ll run a finger along your wet slit, and smile, like it’s a prize.

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

ellie is LOUD. she’s all in for the effort, the strain. she grunts as she pounds into you, like an animal. crazed and low. she’ll moan into your pussy like a bitch in heat, sending the vibrations running up your spine. she loses herself in you, loses all inhibition. there’s no secrets with ellie. you’ll know exactly how good you make her feel.

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

ellie really enjoys girls with long nails! i can hear the masses coming for me now with pitchforks and torches, but hear me out!!

listen, longer nails, ACRYLICS?, stroking down the back of her neck as you hold her, digging into her shoulder blades as she slams into you.. i mean. she’s all about leaving marks, both on you and herself. she enjoys showing off the vicious red streaks you leave on her back when she’s inside you, and on her shoulders as she’s eating you out. it’s a reminder to everyone who she belongs to.

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

ellie is toned. she’s not rlly a gym rat, so her muscle sits where she uses it most. she has incredibly strong legs, surprise surprise, from casual jogs and full-on, run-for-your-life sprints. she has sleek, muscular arms from carrying heavy duty weapons, and her back muscles are insane, you’d think she does laps and laps around a pool every day. she’s scrawnier around her shoulders, but it weighs even with her frame. and nothing gets in the way of her holding your body weight on her forearms as she dives into your throbbing cunt.

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

oh, she yearns. fuck, just about anything you wear, or anything you do, gets her even slightly buzzing. she loves her soft moments with you, where she just holds you, dances with you, jokes with you, but you can count the days that didn’t end with sex on one hand. she needs you badly. and yeah, she has, and will continue to, beg for it, just in case you were wondering.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

ellie doesn’t like, leave planet earth right after finishing. she’s tired, but she knows you’re so much worse for wear than she is. so she’ll take the time to care for you, hold you close and whisper sweet things, and then, as your breathing slows, and your body slumps, she passes out. like you could not get a hold of her if you were blasting an emergency siren in her ear canal. she doesn’t wake up until she’s scheduled to, until the shrill, familiar tones of her alarm clock jolt her awake (which, lets be honest, she sleeps until like, 1pm). if you need her before that time, go ask someone else. she will not help you.

#ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams smut #ellie williams blurb #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfic #tlou fic #tlou part 2 #smut alphabet #smut headcanons #the last of us p2

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bunny-rambles · 5 months

Note

Hi! I hope you're doing okay!

I have a request if you don't mind.

I go so silent when im owerwhelmed. To the rate its so hard for me talk. I wont be able to join to the conversation even if i really want to. At those days, i just need some cuddles and affection.

What if reader just comes back to home and the character is just laying on the couch and reader lays on top of then without saying anything, just listening to their heartbeat? Can i request it with scara, albedo, kazuha, venti and whoever you want to add?

Have a good day💕

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“I’m Here.”

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characters; Scaramouche, Albedo, Venti, Kazuha, gn reader

cw/tw; talks of low mood and anxiety, hurt/comfort

word count; 500+ for each

notes; Hi, thank you so much for this request, sorry it took so long, it just takes forever to get my inspiration going nowadays. I hope you’re still here to enjoy this <3 it’s been stuck in wip hell but it’s finally here now, enjoy. (If some people want to, I’ll see if I can do a part 2 with some other characters. I’m thinking Wriothesley and Neuvillette. Let me know what you think.)

Please reblog if you like this!!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Scaramouche

“Hey, are you even listening?”

Tired eyes move up towards the small crowd of people around you, focusing on the unimpressed pair of eyes burning their gaze into you. Your hand is idly tapping your pen against the empty piece of paper in front of you, but it quickly stops the second you feel the suffocating feeling in your chest from your entire table watching your every move.

“Sorry.” You apologise quietly, only to turn your head away from your classmate, who just scoffs at your haphazard reply and continues on with whatever they were talking about, their jargon falling on deaf ears.

If you were being honest, you could care less about the topic of the conversation.

Today was just one of those days where you felt that heavy feeling in your head, that light fluttering in your stomach. It felt like something was wrong, but nothing had happened to make you like this. Nothing in the typical sense, anyway. No event to trigger such a reaction, not even a snide whisper about you that caught your attention - nothing. You just felt, to sum it up in one word, overwhelmed.

Silently, you slipped out of your seat and snuck away when the conversation had moved on from your strange behaviour, the feeling all consuming at this point. When you were alone, there was only one thought in your mind: find him.

There were a lot of people who didn’t even bother to try to find out his name, only giving him a simple nickname due to his peculiar style. But not you. No, you were the odd one out, the only one in the entire Akademiya who sought out the company of the sharp-tongued vagrant. Perhaps you were the only one who could understand the true meaning of his biting remarks, the only one who knew just how understanding he could be.

He wasn’t in the lecture today, or anywhere in the Akademiya. That wasn’t too much of an issue. He had told you where you could find him if you really needed him (‘or whatever’, you recall him mumbling as his violet eyes shied away from yours, rose blooming so delicately on his porcelain cheeks).

So your feet moved on their own, stumbling along until you came to a quiet opening in the surrounding mountains of Sumeru. And there he was, perched on the edge of the hill that was overlooking the scenery of the entire city - a silent protector. He looked serene, calm in the gentle glow of the sunbeams shining down on the peak of the rocky formation. Maybe it would be best not to disturb him - you couldn’t even remember the last time he looked so at peace with the world.

You took a step back. A branch snapped noisily under your foot, causing the wanderers head to whip around to face you. His brief look of surprise is quickly replaced with his usual look of indifference.

“Oh, it’s you.” He sounded bored, but not aggravated by your presence. This was a good sign for him. But when you didn’t respond, the blank look on his face shifted as he raised an eyebrow at your lack of response. “Well? Spit it out. What do you want?” He prompted again, albeit a little harshly.

But no matter how much you wanted to tell him why you were there, no words would leave your mouth. It was like your lips were just sealed shut.

Instead, you just sat down beside him, your fingers dancing with one another in your lap. Your lips moved, shaping the words that wanted to come out, but no sound accompanied them. A heavy sigh left your lips, already feeling defeated with not being able to do one simple thing right today.

Luckily, you didn’t need to. With an exhale of breath that matched your own, you heard the rustling of fabric by your side as the puppet opened his arms for you.

“Come here.” He ordered in a soft voice, his eyes avoiding your own. When you didn’t respond immediately, obviously in complete surprise with what you were witnessing, he grumbled something under his breath, too quiet for you to understand. Red began to bleed through his white skin, his teeth gritting together before he spoke again. “I don’t have all day. Now come here before I change my mind.”

Soon, his arms were around you, wrapping you up in his comforting embrace when you finally shuffled towards him. And here, nothing could hurt you, not while all you had to focus on was his fingers rubbing deep, comforting circles in your back. His chin rested atop of your head, mainly to hide the gentleness present in his features as he held you close to his chest. If only he had a heart, just so you could listen to the gentle pounding of it against his chest whenever he touched you. Instead, you heard a soft breeze right next to your ear, flowing in time with the pulsing light of his vision with each time his chest raised to take a breath.

There were no words exchanged between the two of you, only the sweet sounds of birds chirping, and that same gentle breeze that surrounded the both of you while you stayed in one another's arms.

Venti

The door swung open with a loud crash against the wall, a cheerful laugh accompanying the startling sound. “Oh, Windblume! Are you home?” The melodic voice of the bard sang out through his shared home of his partner.

Silence.

This did not deter him, however, as he hummed a quiet tune to himself as he set the freshly picked apples along large bottle of dandelion wine on the table, his hands going to his hips as he listened for the tell-tale sound of your soft footsteps or the sweet cadence of your voice. But once again, the young man was met with an eerie quietness.

“Huh. Guess they’re not home.” Viridescent eyes scan their surroundings before landing on a small note hidden away in the corner of the room, neatly placed on the very desk you had been working at so tirelessly these past few days.

‘At Windrise.’

Oh. So it was one of those days. No matter, he knew exactly what to do when you weren’t feeling your best. After quickly grabbing a couple of apples from the large bag he had carried home, he was already on his way to come find you.

And find you he did, sat alone underneath the towering tree with your head in your hands, looking devoid of any positive emotions. Even in the embrace of the winds of freedom, you still felt tied down from the thoughts swarming in your head. The gentle wind around you playfully tussled your hair, but it did very little to quell the storm raging inside of you, its thunder petrifying. There was a rustle above you in the leaves of the great tree, a few fluttering down to gently graze against your cheeks, like nature's soft kisses. And then a head emerged from them, a wide smile on the owner's face.

“Hello there!” Venti greeted with his signature wink, his twin tails swaying in the wind, his forehead exposed from hanging upside down from the branch. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight, your hand reaching out to carefully pull a few stray leaves out of his hair. He swung himself with his legs to press a kiss against your cheek, an airy laugh coming from him before he finally hopped down to take his place next to you. “I brought you something, but it might be a little bruised now.”

The bard giggled sheepishly before pulling out one of the apples he had grabbed earlier, throwing it up in the air for you to catch. Your hands cradled the ripe fruit, treating it as a precious treasure before you brought it up to your lips for a bite. A sigh left your lips from the sweet taste coating your tastebuds, the flavour almost sinful. But how could it be with the god who gave it to you right by your side? No, this was heavenly. Paradise was in your hand, and you couldn’t help but take another bite, showing off a thankful smile towards your partner who was already tucking into his own.

You expected him to speak, to fill the air with jokes or light hearted chatter. However, the only thing that made any noise right now was the petals of the nearby asters and the tweeting of songbirds. The archon beside you was quiet, waiting for you to speak first. And if you didn’t feel up to talking, that was okay too. He was going to be by your side, no matter how you felt. Much like the wind he commanded, he would always be with you, even on your bad days. No words were exchanged between the two of you. Instead, your head leaned closer to his until your cheek was pressed up against his shoulder, a deep sigh leaving your lips. But this time, it was filled with content instead of your previous anxiety. Venti’s hand that wasn’t holding his own apple gently cradled your head, his fingers lightly threading through your soft hair.

“My dear Windblume, you’ve worked so hard.” He finally spoke, his soft cheek resting lightly against the top of your head, like the softest of feathers.

“Don’t be afraid… I’m here.”

Kazuha

It had been a long day.

A fight with the endless stacks of paper at your desk had left you feeling drained, the walls of your bedroom feeling almost like a prison instead of a sanctuary for dreams and comfort. Your hands trembled as you re-read the few scarce sentences that you had managed to write down, only for them to curl into tight fists around the delicate piece of paper. What does it matter? It barely made sense anyway.

You needed out of this room. Shaky legs pulled your body out of your solitude, into the fresh air and tall grass that brushed against the back of your legs. You weren’t quite sure what led you to this meadow. Perhaps it was just an inexplicable pull you felt that was dragging you towards something more enchanting than the dull surroundings of a desk and barely functioning pen - something more warm, more comforting.

There, sitting in the middle of this peaceful field of flowers, he sat.

Eyes closed, with a serene smile painted on his gentle face, his silvery wisps of hair blowing softly in the winds - much like the swaying stalks of emerald around him. And once those eyes fluttered open to reveal the rubies underneath, you could feel the very air in your throat catch. That smile you admired only widened when his gaze set on you.

“Fancy seeing you here. Care to join me?” Kazuha spoke, his bandaged hand extended towards your own. You felt guilty intruding on such a peaceful moment like this, but when he was looking at you like that, inviting you to spend time with him… Well, how could you possibly refuse? Your hand connected with his own, a gentle tug leading to you seating yourself next to him. Instead of letting go of your hand, or letting his touch linger on your skin for a moment, he interlocked his fingers with your own. His side brushed against your own, your smile slowly but surely mirroring his own curled lips. Silence curled its invisible arms around the two of you, wrapping you up in comforting tranquillity, only found with the closest of companions.

A soft exhale left the man beside you, his body leaning backwards to lay against the ground, his gaze fixated on the clouds above.

“Here.” He whispers, patting the space underneath you to encourage you to join him. “Lay with me. Let your troubles float away with the drifting clouds.”

Carefully, you also laid back, with your hand still intertwined with his own and your other one resting on top of your stomach.

It wasn’t long before you found yourself under his arm, nestled up against his side with your cheek pressing up gently against his chest. His fingers gently began to run through your hair, his movements idle, his soul at peace - as well as yours.

“You don’t have to talk about what is troubling you, dove. But if you ever need to talk to me, or perhaps, if you just want me to be with you - then you need only ask.” The wandering prince spoke, his soothing movements unchanging. “Or just come find me if you feel like you can’t. Your presence is never a bother.” He chuckles softly, holding you closer to his side, his head leaning against your own.

“I promise… You’ll never have to go through anything alone, as long as I’m by your side.”

Albedo

The gentle clinking of glass echoes around the room as a solitary alchemist works in silence. Concentration is etched onto his porcelain face, his lips drawn in a straight line as his gaze fixates on the bubbling liquid inside the flask he was holding in a gentle grasp. He raises an eyebrow, however, when a figure starts to form in the reflection. In the distorted mirroring of the glass, he could make out a pair of saddened eyes staring longingly at him, yet silence persisted in the room. He blinked a few times to make sure he wasn’t just hallucinating - hours alone with various fumes and chemicals did have those side effects, after all. When he concluded he was in fact not deluding himself, he lowered the container carefully and turned around to face the one who had been waiting patiently behind him to finish analysing the results of his experiments.

This was a sight he wasn’t unfamiliar with. It wasn’t the first time he had seen you look so downcast. But rarely did you ever seek him out during these moods of yours, especially while he was working. This was… Unusual. It must’ve been quite serious.

He waited for you to speak, to tell him whatever was on your mind, but no words came. Instead, your eyes refused to meet his own, almost as if you were guilty for disturbing him or bothering him with your presence. But to Albedo, you could never be a bother - your very existence filled him with elation, even if he seldom expressed that notion towards you with words. At least his actions told you otherwise.

“Is there something I can help you with?” He inquired carefully, making sure not to push you too much. Your mouth opened and closed a few times, a few stutters of some quiet words he couldn’t quite make out. He glanced back to his makeshift workshop for a moment before his cerulean eyes locked with your own glassy ones. Deft fingers moved towards the bunsen burner, switching the contraption off before they moved to cup your chin, tilting your head up so your eyes locked once more. He hummed inquisitively, wondering why you looked so upset. But, no matter. If you were here, surely he could be of some use, even if you were unwilling to share what was troubling you.

“Perhaps it’s time for a break.” The blonde declared thoughtfully before intertwining his fingers with your own, guiding you out of the laboratory and into a more peaceful area of the Favonius headquarters. Once inside, he led you over to a large couch, gesturing for you to sit down before he joined you. He cleared his throat awkwardly while opening his arms to you. “I’ve heard that physical contact and affection relieves stress.” He stated, his eyes flitting away from you for a few fleeting seconds. “Would you perhaps like a hug?”

Hesitantly, he shifted closer when he noticed you were doing the same before taking you into his arms and cradling you to his chest. A shuddering breath left your lips as the warmth you had craved all day seeped through your skin, deep into your bones.

“Is… This okay?” The alchemist asks quietly, unsure. You nod against his chest, your own arms circling around his middle. His hold around you tightens. A gentle hand rests on top of your head, his other on your lower back, fingers idly tracing patterns against your back. The motion is calculated, an automatic action, as if he knew exactly what to do to soothe your worries just with his touch alone.

“I’m glad you found me and I’m glad I could help. Please, my darling, stay in my arms until you feel better.” Before you could even open your mouth to ask about his work, he continues, in a soft tone only reserved for you and his little sister. “No experiment or variable compares to the feeling of holding you like this. So please, allow me to indulge myself.”

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #venti x reader #barbatos x reader #albedo x reader #kazuha x reader #Genshin impact x gn reader

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ginnsbaker · 8 months

Text

loving an avenger

Summary: The last installment from the Dentist AU, sequel to it's just dinner;

Vision tilts his head slightly, a gesture you've come to recognize as him deep in thought. “If that's a prerequisite for you,” he states presumptuously, like the answer to your prerogative is so startlingly obvious yet you failed to catch them. “Then may I suggest you sleep with her and then ask her to marry you?”

Word count: 3.2k | Tags: Fluff, Marriage Proposals gone wrong , 'Efficent' is Wanda's middle name according to her

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Author's note: And that concludes our Dentist AU! All fluff, no tears.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Wanda Maximoff is your girlfriend.

No matter how many times you repeat it to yourself, you’re never going to get used to the fact that Wanda Maximoff is your girlfriend.

And dating this particular Avenger is both your greatest source of comfort and anxiety.

On the days when it's peaceful, when the weight of the world isn't pressing down on either of you, the indescribable comfort comes from the simplicity of your relationship with Wanda. Those are the days when her protector-of-the-world persona fades into the background, and you get to be with simply Wanda, the woman.

Grocery shopping, for instance, becomes something you look forward to on weekends. Walking down the aisles, hand in hand, you spend more time discussing the virtues of one brand of pasta over another, or debating whether to indulge in a tub of ice cream, than any imminent world threat. Sometimes, Wanda playfully levitates a grape or two, making them dance in the air before popping them into your mouth, her laughter ringing in the quiet corners of the store.

Strolls in the park are as romantic as the candlelight dinners you frequently organize at various fine dining spots in the city, especially after learning that Wanda rarely goes out. You both love laying down on the grass, feeling the sun warming your skin, and the world around fades as you listen to her recount stories from Sokovia, her voice soft and nostalgic. Some days, you carry a little music player, and with wired earbuds shared between the two of you.

And then there are the quiet afternoons at home. The beautiful monotony of those moments is the real magic. With you engrossed in a book and Wanda laughing at sitcom reruns, or the two of you attempting to bake. Baking sessions usually end with more flour on both of you than in the bowl, dough fights, and running around the kitchen before tackling Wanda onto your bed and kissing her silly. Even if the cookies turn out a bit burnt, the warmth is always just right.

On the flip side, when the world demands its due from her, it's pure torment. The darker undertones of dating an Avenger are impossible to ignore. An ever-present undercurrent of anxiety runs deep within you. The unpredictability of her life means that any moment could be the last time you see her smile, hear her laugh, or feel her touch.

The agony of days, sometimes even weeks, without contact from her is torture. Every second feels like an hour, every hour like a day. The silence, the not knowing, is the worst part. Is she okay? Is she hurt? Each time the news reports another battle or threat, your heart clenches, waiting for a hint that she is alright. But more often than not, there's no word, no sign. Just the excruciating wait.

And then there are the times she returns, not as the invincible hero, but as a wounded Wanda. A cut on her lips, a gash across her forehead, or bruises marring her porcelain skin. You often nurse her wounds, fighting back tears and the urge to plead with her to stay, to give it all up.

One evening, in a moment of weakness and sheer fear, you do suggest it.

“Why can't you just leave it all behind? There are other, stronger heroes who can step in,” you murmur to her, both of you teetering on the edge of sleep.

“I caused so much darkness for a long time,” she says, her fingers coming up to trace your cheek and ease the creases on your forehead. “I need to pay my dues. I need to make things right.”

You find it hard to believe, considering the Wanda you know is nothing but a beacon of light. The thought of her having a dark past seems so distant, so unfathomable. Yet, her commitment to redemption is undeniable.

“Until when?” you ask softly, eyes locked onto hers, searching for answers. “When will it be enough?”

Wanda hesitates, her gaze drifting to the ceiling, as if searching for the answers there. “I don't know,” she whispers. “But every day, I try to be better than I was the day before, hoping that one day the scales will balance.”

You turn to face her fully, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Wanda, you've done so much good. You've helped countless people. At some point, you need to forgive yourself too.”

She chuckles lightly, the corners of her mouth turning up. “You know, sometimes I think that maybe it won't be for too long.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued, “Oh? And why's that?”

“Because,” she begins, her fingers playfully tracing patterns on your arm, “If I have you by my side, maybe I'm doing something right. I like to think of you as my little reward for turning things around.”

You can't help but laugh at that, pressing a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Your 'little' reward? Are you calling me short?”

“Maybe. Or maybe I'm just saying that for all the vastness of the universe, it's the small, unexpected joys that matter the most.”

“Well, in that case,” you grin, your heart swelling in your chest, “I'm honored to be your 'little' joy.”

It always ends up like this. She sneaks in a flirty comment during your serious talks, and somehow, just for a moment, you forget about the worries that'll come back later.

But this is also how you eventually realize that you love her.

No matter what she chooses to do, you swear—even if it kills you, even if it disrupts your peace and turns your world upside down—you'll never leave her side unless she asks you to.

Within a week, you're back at the Avengers compound, not to visit Wanda, but to meet with a different Avenger.

Vision.

Wanda is on a small mission with Natasha, and you specifically timed your visit so that she wouldn't be around. You've come with a purpose, one that you're unsure of how it'll be received.

Finding Vision is no easy task, but after inquiring discreetly, you're directed to a chamber that seems more like a serene meditation space than a room in a superhero compound.

“Vision?” you call out tentatively as you step into the dimly lit room. The chill in the air is so intense it feels like walking into a server room, almost expecting to find rows of computers thrumming in the cold. Instinctively, you pull your doctor's coat tighter around your body.

Vision appears almost instantly. “How may I assist you?”

You exhale slowly, rubbing the back of your neck. “Okay, this is going to sound weird, but... I need some advice about Wanda.” It feels a bit ridiculous as the thought crosses your mind—asking a synthezoid about relationship matters. But he's close to Wanda, and honestly, you're at a loss for who else to ask.

Vision's gaze sharpens a touch, “Go on.”

“I love her,” the words tumble out before you can rein them in. “Every time she's out on a mission, I'm a wreck. I'm always scared something might happen to her. I wish she'd... I don't know, think about retiring? Or at least find some way to be safer. But I have no idea how to even bring it up.”

Vision remains silent for a beat, then replies, “It's not uncommon for those close to Avengers to feel this way. But Wanda's commitment to this role is profound. Asking her to retire would be asking her to change a fundamental part of who she is.”

“But what about her safety?” you press on rather desperately.

Vision takes a moment, as if deliberating if the term ‘safety’ should even apply to the likes of them, before saying, “In our line of work, there are no certainties. Every mission, every decision carries inherent risks. It's a reality we've all accepted. It's the price of our commitment to a greater good.”

You nod defeatedly. Maybe you were hoping for a different answer. But like the rest, he too prioritizes the greater good above himself.

“I just wish there was something more I could do,” you say.

Vision steps closer, placing a hand on your shoulder in a gesture that's surprisingly comforting coming from a synthetic being. You’re beginning to understand why Wanda considers him her best friend.

“Your presence in her life, the love you offer, it's more than you realize. Hold onto that,” he says. Then, he looks at you with an unexpected sparkle in his surprisingly soulful eyes. “Have you considered making a lifelong commitment to Wanda?”

You gulp, taken aback. “You mean... marriage?”

The suggestion from Vision was so unexpected, so left-field. But thinking about it, there were times—like when you'd make Wanda laugh and her nose would scrunch up all cute—where the idea did, fleetingly, cross your mind.

(You’re so embarrassed to admit it, but it’s just how your brain works around Wanda Maximoff.)

“Yes,” Vision nods. “Sometimes, offering stability and a promise of forever can provide an emotional security that transcends physical safety.”

For a moment, it strikes you—for someone who isn't even human, he sure has a knack for relationship advice. What Vision is suggesting does make sense: If you can't keep her safe, you'll keep her happy. Sometimes that's the only thing you can do.

But there’s just one problem.

“Uhm, I don’t know how to say this, but…we haven't even... I mean, we're taking things slow,” you stumble over your words, your cheeks burning at the thought of being with Wanda that way. It's also not the sort of detail you’d anticipated sharing with Vision, of all beings, but it's out now.

Your jaw drops slightly, and you blink a few times, attempting to find words. “Vision, that's...easier said than done,” you manage to say, your voice faltering a bit towards the end. You quickly clear your throat, wondering if the temperature in the room could drop any further, because despite the chill, you're suddenly feeling quite warm in your civilian clothes.

“What do you mean by ‘easier said than done’?” Vision asks, rubbing his chin, no doubt a conscious effort to display his human side. “Do you need me to teach you how to—”

“No!” you blurt out, hands shooting up in a frantic 'stop right there' motion. Your mind races with the myriad of things Vision might've been about to suggest. “I've got a pretty good grasp on...human basics, thanks.”

“Ah. Noted. I simply meant to offer guidance in whatever form you might need. Perhaps I could download a helpful guide or recommend books?” he asks.

You snort, the image of Vision giving sex education a new meaning now firmly planted in your mind. “No, thanks. I think I'll stick to the old-fashioned way of figuring things out. You know, trial and error, preferably without any downloadable guides.”

He nods, making an exaggerated display of understanding, “Ah, the human way of fumbling through experiences. Intriguing. And very inefficient.”

“Well, humans fumbled their way through evolution, so…”

“An interesting perspective. Still, if ever you need a recommended reading list…”

“No reading lists,” you say with a grin. “Just... help keep her safe. That's all the help I need from you.”

Vision’s lips curl into a slight smile. “Very well. That, I can promise.”

Despite your initial reaction to Vision's advice—of sleeping with Wanda and then asking her to marry you—as being ridiculous, it’s all you can think about.

You only realize what you've done after stepping out of the jewelry store, having just purchased an engagement ring with a central ruby stone encircled by tiny diamonds.

Tonight is the night.

You’ve set the mood—candles, soft music, the whole shebang. After weeks, maybe even months of hinting and hoping, you’re ready to take the next step with Wanda. Well, at least you think you are. There are two things in particular that are making your palms sweat and your heart race tonight. Firstly, the intimate step you’re trying to take with Wanda. And secondly, the engagement ring you impulsively bought, still tucked inside your back pocket, silently judging you for your timidity.

The two of you are cuddled up on the couch, the distance between you almost non-existent. The movie, 50 First Dates, plays in the background, but neither of you are paying it much attention.

The kissing has been going on for a good two minutes (not that you're counting or anything, but you just so happen to be facing the wall clock), and so, you make your move, your hand finding its way to her back, fingers fumbling clumsily as you try to find the clasp of her bra.

She stiffens and you hold your breath. Oh no. Did you move too fast? Just as a bead of panic-induced sweat is about to roll down your forehead, Wanda turns to you with a knowing look. “Looking for something?”

You stammer, trying to form a coherent sentence, “I just thought—”

She grins, cutting you off, “You do realize I'm wearing a sports bra, right?”

Right. You forgot she just came in from yet another mission.

Your face turns a shade of red that could give her usual Avenger attire a run for its money. “I didn't... I mean, I couldn’t…”

Wanda laughs, a hearty, genuine laugh, putting you somewhat at ease. “You could've just asked me, you know.”

And before you can process that, with a flick of her wrist and a sparkle of magic, you feel the fabric disappear, replaced by the warmth of her skin. Your fingers freeze in place, feeling the soft flush beneath them.

Wanda raises an eyebrow, a playful challenge in her gaze. “You okay there?”

This. This is how you die—getting a heart attack with your hand under Wanda’s shirt.

Trying to reclaim some semblance of dignity, you manage a wobbly smile, words stumbling over themselves in a race to get out. “I was just... I mean, I thought... I didn't expect you to be so... efficient.”

Her laugh is soft, a touch husky, doing nothing to help calm the racing of your heart. “Darling, 'Efficient' is my middle name.”

You want to point out the countless times her middle was anything but ‘Efficient’ but that would definitely ruin the mood.

“Good to know. Any other magic tricks you're planning to pull tonight?” you ask with a smirk.

She leans in close, her lips grazing your ear. “Guess you'll have to stick around to find out.”

You both shift, trying to find a more comfortable position on the couch. In the process, the velvet box containing the ring slips from your back pocket and falls to the floor. As you bend down to pick it up, Wanda gets there first, snatching the box away with her powers just as your fingers graze it.

“What's this?” she asks, her eyes widening in surprise.

For a moment, you're caught in an invisible stasis. “I, uh... it's not what it looks like?” you stutter out, though it's clear by her expression she doesn’t buy it for a second.

With a smirk, she slowly opens the box, revealing the delicate ring inside. Her eyes flit between the ring and your flushed face, her playful smile replaced with an expression of tender surprise. “Is this…”

You swallow hard. “Yes, it is. I was... I was going to ask you. Later. After, well, after other things.”

Wanda laughs, a hint of tears in her eyes. “You were planning on proposing after we...?”

Hearing your idea echoed back by Wanda makes you feel slightly foolish. Darn it, Vision.

“Well, the cat's out of the bag now,” you sigh, looking directly into Wanda's eyes, a surge of bravery taking hold. “And honestly, I don't think I can wait any longer to ask you. I really, truly love you. So, Wanda Maximoff, will you marry me?”

Wanda looks down at the ring, then back to your eyes, searching for answers and confirming truths. After losing her entire family, right in front of her is the possibility of starting a new one. A tear escapes from the corner of her eye.

“You had a whole plan, didn't you?” she murmurs, her voice quivering.

“An extremely convoluted and very poorly executed plan, yes,” you admit sheepishly.

Her laugh is light and airy and causes her nose to do that thing you’re so crazy about. “Oh, you...” she trails off, leaning down to capture your lips in a soft, slow kiss. When she pulls back, she’s beaming. “Yes. Yes, I'll marry you. But maybe let’s deal with one thing at a time tonight, okay?”

“Of course, one thing at a time,” you quickly agree. But then, a wave of insecurity washes over you. “But, just so you know, if after we...you know...if you don't find it... satisfying or if I don't live up to your expectations or anything, you can totally change your mind about the proposal. No pressure or anything.”

Wanda looks amused for a moment, then her expression turns sultry. “Darling, trust me when I say that's not going to be an issue,” she purrs.

You open your mouth to respond but are momentarily derailed when Wanda, with one fluid motion, removes her shirt, rendering you speechless.

Leaning in so that her lips hover just inches from your ear, she murmurs, “I want you so bad, you're really going to have to work hard to change my mind.”

Her fingers trace a lazy path up your neck, sending shivers racing down your spine.

“By the way,” Wanda whispers as you struggle to focus on her words through your half-lidded eyes. “I really, truly love you too.”

After that, words become superfluous. The need to be closer, to feel her against you, overpowers every sense and sensation. And as the seconds and minutes melt away, you find that with Wanda, everything falls perfectly into place.

“Just so we’re clear,” you pant out moments later, catching your breath and gazing at the ceiling, “It’s still a ‘yes’, right?”

Wanda's body trembles with laughter next to you, making you grin ear to ear. Before long, you're rolling back on top of her again, ready for round two.

The soft lapping of water against the shore serves as nature's own version of wedding bells. Your father's lakehouse, usually a place of quiet reflection and family gatherings, is now adorned with delicate white drapes and soft pastel flowers, transforming it into an intimate wedding venue.

Steve Rogers, wearing a suit that accentuates his otherworldly physique, gives you a supportive pat on the back. “Nervous?”

“About the wedding or the fact that half the guests could snap me in half with their pinky?” you reply with a nervous chuckle.

“You’ve got this,” he assures you, seeing past your attempt at a lighthearted joke.

As for Wanda, she had never anticipated that half the attendees at her wedding would be dentists, including your parents and a slew of your colleagues. It was a running joke between the two of you; her slight dental phobia up against your chosen profession. But life has a funny way of turning things around.

Sometimes what we fear the most becomes our strength, and that strength becomes an anchor. And you are hers, as much as she is yours.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x female reader #steve rogers #vision

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just-some-user-hunny · 7 months

Text

Even more pinocchio headcanons...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~⚜️~~⚜️~~⚜️~~⚜️~~⚜️~~⚜️~~⚜️~~⚜️~~⚜️~

~ his legion arm is sturdy and strong, the way it never buckles beneath any weight, nor the resilience of flying speaks flying off its steel surface whenever he grinds the sharp blade of his weapon against it. He can punch through gates and tear off doors from their hinges like they were mere tissue paper.

But pino is a balance of strength and softness. With each little mechanical click of his knuckles and fingers, they drag softly down the silky expanse of your arm, down the surface of your wrist, and oh so gently into your hand for a an embrace of flesh and metal.

The intricate grooves of his palm are alike to your own rugged delicate markings, the contrast stark but filled with such a strong sense of belonging.

It's the way he reaches to touch your cheek that serves as a reminder of his uniqueness from other puppets. His fingertips are cold, almost ice cold against the warm flesh of your face, but the chill is a comforting presense. That within this bloodthirsty world, you have a protector. One that would do anything to keep you safe.

~ it is not uncommon to wake up with your hand cradled in pino's as he's sat on the floor by your bed. Pino misses you when you're sleeping, so when he wants to spend time with you this is the next best thing, just being in your presence is enough for him. The lack of the sound of your voice is made up by your soft breaths and relaxed expression.

~ continueing the whole clingy Pino thing, he would most definitely join you when you're taking a bath because he wants to be with you as much as possible whenever he isn't fighting. Of course, he's very respectful and turns away from you when you're sat unclothed in the tub of bubbles, and he merely sits on the floor besides you holding your warm soapy hand. His back with be pressed against the porcelain, fiddling with your fingers as he listens to you talk about anything. It's all very chill and relaxing.

Also he makes the funniest face when you dab a scoop of foamy bubbles on his forehead or nose. His face screws up rather confused, but chuckles softly anyway when he hears your playful giggles.

(Thanks anon for suggesting this idea!)

~ just Pino and you dancing slowly to an old record he found in one of the hotel rooms.

He had seen posters and illustrations of dancing people in the city of Krat plastered on walls and shop windows, and grew very curious of it.

You'd have to guide him a little, teaching him to bow and ask for a dance. Just sweet relaxed banter between you two as you attempt to lead him into a dance, guiding him to hold your waist and hand. He's a little clumsy at first, almost tripping you with a misstepped footing, but like everything he does he learns quickly. Soon enough he'll have you clasped to his front and spinning around the room, your giggles and his silent chuckles filling the silence.

Eventually your energy wears off, and you both slow dance to the soft crackling tune. Your head on his chest, and his hands on your waist, the two of you swaying side to side gently. He could spend hours doing this with you.

~ he's very polite, and will do things like open doors for you. However this can go from sweet to hilarious. One time you were struggling to open your drawer cabinet, and he pretty much tore it off its hinges. The both of you stood in absolute silence as you stared at the broken door clasped in his grip. The poor man gazed at you a little worried before you laughed softly at his antics, easing his nerves.

~ due to him not speaking all that much, and most of the time not at all, I can imagine it being useful to teach him a few simple sign language phrases. He'd listen and mimic your moves very carefully, copying your movements.

"this is how you would say thank you" you'd say softly, your fingertips brushing over your lips before extending your palm to him. His gaze focuses on your lips a little too much before he snaps out of it and copies 😅.

Now whenever you hand him something or speak comforting words, you'll be met with him bowing his head a little to gesture his thanks to you. He looks so proud every time he does it as well.

~⚜️~~⚜️~~⚜️~~⚜️~~⚜️~~⚜️~~⚜️~~⚜️~~⚜️~

#lies of p x reader #lies of p #lies of p pinocchio

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