chickennoodlesoupjandb

[chickennoodlesoupjandb]

I’m gonna explode she looks SO GOOD 😭😭

[chickennoodlesoupjandb]

teachers pet

Pairings: katniss Everdeen x fem!reader

warnings: slight age difference(you can determine how much older katniss is than you for now),teacher/student relationship, affairs, talks of past trauma, g*le(1 mention)(no smut in this one sorry!)

summary: it was fucking beautiful, until it went too far.

wc:1603

a/n: I am not promoting anyone to do this irl, don’t let this flop, changed the og summary(I can tag u in the og ss)

This was never how it was supposed to happen.

At first you just came in and it was innocent practice.

How did it become more?

You never thought that this would happen and you felt guilty about it. But you didn't wanna tell anyone because not only did you not wanna rat out Katniss but you still enjoyed everything she did those days and nights as well

Just last week you lied about having to stay longer for "extra practice" to someone. In reality you were doing something you weren't meant to be.

You were sleeping with your teacher.(bow and arrow instructor)The mockingjay.

Katniss Everdeen.

Were you proud of it? Not completely but did it feel good for both you and Katniss? Hell yes.

And shamefully you were starting to feel something deeper for Katniss. But you knew you couldn't express it. She had peeta. And besides. She's older than you.

She would probably just try to dismiss it.

But you'd still go back. Out of love and out of the shameful way you would moan underneath her and twitch as she gave you what you wanted.

That was good enough. For now.

Right now instead of where you both usually practice which is in the woods or at a training center she's told you to come to her house.

Once you knock you know there's no point of even pretending to train. She was gonna take you.

She opens the door with a warm smile that turns into a small smirk once she sees you.

"Hi there Girl Scout. Looking for someone?" She jokes before chuckling. You can't help but giggle before she makes room for you too come inside.

You take a look around the house you've only been too once. Or twice. Or three times If you can remember. It's been a few months since you and Katniss started this but you haven't been able to come over her house that much.

"Hey Kat." You speak before looking down with a certain look in your eye. Katniss can't tell if it's just a soft look or if you want her.

At the end of the day you know you're here to do more than just hang out.

She takes a seat next to you. "Well hi there." You turn your body and look Katniss up and down as if you're asking if she's ready.

She's been through so much because of gale, the capitol, president snow and coin. Maybe she needs a stress relief. Although she's never really brought it up it still makes you think she deserves this.

Especially when she's rough. She needs to get her anger out.

She simply gives you a light kiss on your jaw then cheek before finally giving one on your lips. You moan as she slips her tongue into your mouth and gets a taste of you.

You, of course, immediately kiss back. Why wouldn't you? You both love this after all.

You run your fingers through Katniss' hair as she

puts her hands on your waist to pin you in place. Oh, the ideas that are coming to your pretty little head.

Just before you and Katniss can actually get down you both hear a knock on the door and immediately separate.

You instinctively whisper. "Who the hell is that?"

You ask with wide eyes before she speaks with a non whisper.

"I dunno." She shrugs casually and calmly before getting up with a sigh. She walks to the door but stops midway before turning around and speaking with a lower voice.

"Oh, and just so you remember, I don't think anyone would think anything If they saw me with a younger girl. Even if you're my student." She reminds you casually before turning around and walking back to the door.

She opens it and sees Johanna. "Well hey there brainless."

You see the smile on Johanna's face before she notices you and squints hers eyes slightly. Could she already be suspecting what's going on?

If she did you wouldn't be surprised since Johanna is pretty smart. As they talk you head to the bathroom and when you're out you get a bit of curiosity.

You decide to head to Katniss' room and go inside.

It's of course empty since she's downstairs with Johanna so you take opportunity to be nosy and look around.

You decide not to look on her dresser because that might have some precious things from her family but you do decide to look around and move towards her bed ready to take a seat.

Before you can however, you hear someone open the door and immediately turn around almost scared that it's Johanna or haymitch came over. Even worse:peeta.

Once you turn around to the person ready to explain you see it's just Katniss with a slight smile. "Hey baby. What are you doing in here?" She asks a little confused.

"Oh- I just didn't wanna interrupt what you and Johanna were talking about." You say with a nervous chuckle. Before you can apologize Katniss puts her hands on your shoulders.

"Oh that's no problem. You're always allowed in my room as long as you don't snoop around." She says calmly which you reply with a head nod. "Okay!"

And before you know it Katniss pins you against the wall. She of course had no intent on actually doing anything with you exactly at this moment but she liked seeing you nervous.

"Um- well this seems fun." You reply starting to shake the nerves off. Katniss gives a light hearted chuckle. "That's a good girl." She says before giving you a kiss on the head.

It was gentle and sweet which is something you liked about Katniss. She's didn't make you feel pressured into anything but she also didn't make you feel like a child.

It felt like a normal relationship.

"Now cmon. I think Johanna wants to see you." She says before taking your hand and leading you down

stairs. Once there you both immediately have a seat.

"So how've you been brainless junior?" Johanna quips mockingly. But not seriously at the same time.

It was an insult that she didn't care if you fight like but she also wasn't her intent to make you possibly upset.

You laugh at the nickname usually meant for Katniss. "Doing just well hothead." You spoke the half truth.

This was gonna be an interesting ride.

You and Katniss weren't getting to do anything which internally made you nervous and a little irritated not just for yourself but mostly katniss since you know that's probably the main thing she cares about doing with you.

You could tell by the look in her eyes she was upset especially when Johanna made a comment about inviting haymitch.

You saw the time and realized that your "lessons" were about to end. You get up from where you rested and head towards the door, followed by Katniss.

Katniss turns you around and looks at your face realizing that you're on edge. "What's wrong?" She asks as if she doesn't know.

You whisper trying not to feel any certain way.

"Because what do you think? Why didn't you tell me Johanna was coming over?" You ask trying to keep your composure. It's not like you mind Johanna's presence but this wasn't the time.

Katniss sighs before whispering back. "I didn't know okay? Besides you're acting like I'm upset we didn't have sex. I'm just upset we didn't get to spend a lot of time together." Katniss speaks pretty honestly causing you to sigh in a mix of relief and guilt.

Maybe you should've came quicker. (Something both you and Katniss have said before)

"I just- i thought that was the plan today." You say causing Katniss to roll her eyes at the idea. "Yeah."

"I did want sex. But I also wanted to see you just to see you." This wasn't one of the days Katniss just wanted to see you out of horniness which surprises

you.

"Oh..." Katniss softens up a bit. "We don't need to

have sex twenty four seven. Some days I really just wanna spend time with you." She speaks truthfully but you can't help but remember a thought just as

you were gonna smile.

"You have peeta. You don't need some random girl, someone you're training on the side." You whisper almost as if you're really getting upset now.

Katniss doesn't get mad immediately and actually seems a bit concerned and like she's trying to calm you down. Maybe just so Johanna won't hear or her suspicions.

"Listen, I know that. But I wanted you too. Why is that such a problem? We have each other now." Katniss says, developing a bit of attitude.

"So what? This is stupid. I can't keep doing this to myself Katniss. I might never be able to be with you like I want to not only because of my age. But because you're with peeta." You whisper your argument to Katniss. Trying to keep your emotions at bay.

Katniss starts with her feathers a bit ruffled. "It's it fucking stupid. I want you both. That's what I'm gonna get. Because you're perfect. I love you."

Katniss ends soft. She had never said this before.

Maybe she was just as deep as you knew you were.

There might be no going back on your emotions. You look up a bit stunned. "Okay.." you say a bit confused. Could this be true? "I- I love you too."

You spoke then giving Katniss a smile. Then you left.

Too blinded to turn back.

[chickennoodlesoupjandb]

I Know You Well

~~~~~

~~~~~

Summary: The 3rd Quarter Quell twist has been revealed and after the initial shock wears off, you have a conversation with your lover and fellow victor where you both promise that no matter who gets reaped, there would be no volunteering. Johanna will make sure of that.

wc: 2.5k

Warnings: 18+ mdni, use of y/n, violence, ptsd, swearing, Ifem!reader think that’s it.

An: I should probably make a banner for Johanna or something. Also I think I sent this head cannon to someone’s ask but I don’t remember whom I sent it to. :/

This probably would have been better as a blurb but oh well.

~~~~~

Johanna sat on the couch rolling her eyes and groaning at the sight of Katniss’ wedding gowns being presented to the audience. Her feet were propped up on the coffee table that you made and she had nothing on except a pair of fuzzy socks. “Ugh disgusting! What flock of white geese had to die for that dress?”

You chuckle at her words as you were cutting the bell pepper for dinner. “Do you mean swans, honey?”

“Absolutely not, she does not deserve swans.”

There were a total of 6 dresses to choose from and Cinna announced to the crowd that they could vote for which dress Katniss should wear. Johanna made another snide comment about making the Girl on Fire walk out in a suit of mud and call it a day. “They would definitely like that.”

“Katniss would not. I’m not too sure she’d be as comfortable as you being naked.”

Johanna cupped her own breast with a smirk. “At least I show myself off instead of being bought for it. What are they going to do? They can’t take it from me if I give it out for free.”

You tilted your head in acknowledgement of her words. It’s something you learned as a victor, watching others do the same. Finnick acted cocky as a defense mechanism. Enobaria sharpened her teeth to defend herself from the Capitol. Hell, you had done it, fiddling with your pocket saw out in the open. It was effective in scaring people away but it also gave you horrible flashbacks to your own game. What does that say about your view of the capital if you decide to willingly traumatize yourself again? Even so, after years of doing it, you’d only get flashes of the dark memory instead of a full blown panic attack. Exposure therapy at its finest.

Anyway, immediately after Cinna finishes his campaign for Katniss’ wedding dress, Snow took the podium on the raised balcony overlooking the city circle. “Why the fuck is he on our screens? As if voting for a wedding dress isn’t torturous enough.” Johanna groaned.

You put your knife down. The living room was a good 50 steps away from the kitchen counters and you placed your hands on the back of the couch watching intently. To you, the twist wouldn’t matter, you’d still have to mentor who ever the twist catered too.

“Ladies and gentlemen, citizens of Panem. This is the 75th year of the Hunger Games. When the charter of the Games was written, it dictated that every 25 years there would be a Quarter Quell… to make fresh for each new generation the memory of those killed in the rebellion against the Capitol. The Quarter Quell was reserved for the Games of special significance.”

Johanna sat up in her seat fiddling with the hilt of her axe. You noticed the slow movement of her thumb over the wooden handle before she took a breath.

“On the 25th anniversary, each district was made to vote on the tributes who should represent it. In the 50th anniversary, as a reminder that two rebels died for every Capitol citizen, each district was required to send twice the tributes to the arena. And now on the 75th anniversary of the Rebellion, we honor our third quarter quell, as bestowed to us, by the signers of the Treaty of Treason.”

A small wooden box is carried onto the balcony by a boy dressed in white. You watch as President Snow opens the box and retrieves a yellow sealed envelope. “As a reminder that even the strongest cannot over power the Capitol, on this 3rd Quarter Quell Games, the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the pool of existing victors of each district.”

The room froze, you and Johanna not daring to break the silence. Your eyes widened and you forgot to breathe. Chills traveled down your spine. Johanna reacted first gripping her axe and swinging it at the television projector with a scream, smashing it to pieces.

Your heart plunged to the ground. You were going back. Tears welled in your eyes and a lump found its way to your throat. The walls closed in around you and before it could crush you, you rushed out of the house.

Your foot caught each other on the way down the steps and you caught yourself with your hands and knees. The bushes beckoned you to them and you crawled over before dispensing the bile caught in your throat.

The fall was so fast you didn’t notice the glassy rocks that cut your knees. Only after you crawled to the log storage did you notice them. Smears of blood oozed out of your wounds and sticky red liquid coated your fingers.

Your hand began to shake.

The First Kill was never something you could get over. Her name was Olive and there was a sponsor sent to you on the 5th day, she was nearby and tried to take the gift from you. She tackled you to the ground and after a few moments of tussling in the grass, you found your saw and lodged it deep into her neck. Her blood trickled down coating your fingers as you pulled on your weapon to slice her neck. She died choking on her own blood. Your hands stained red and no matter how much you tried to scrub it off, it always remained on your hands.

Even now, as you frantically scrubbed your hands in the shed sink, it wouldn’t go away. The harder you rubbed the redder your hands got. That was how friction worked but in your state of delusion, it all looked the same.

The cascade of water stopped. As you moved your hands to the faucet, gentle hands cradled yours. A small whimper escaped your lips. You were going back. You were in the pool of existing victors. But so was Johanna. Your head snapped up spotting the younger girl focused on your reddened hands.

“Johanna.”

She let out an unamused chuckle. “I fucking trashed the house.”

“I assumed so.” You whispered. “I rubbed off the skin on my hands.”

Johanna hummed as she traced her thumb over the injury. “I know.”

You raised your arms to her to hold her face. “I need you to promise me something. Do not volunteer for me.”

She met your eyes with her own fiery ones while tilting her head. “One of us has to go in. Like hell, I’m going to let it be you.”

“I can handle myself, that’s why I’m telling you not to volunteer.”

“If you don’t volunteer then I won’t volunteer.” Johanna bargained. You went quiet pressing your lips into a thin line. Just like you knew her well enough to know she’d volunteer, she knew you well enough to know you would to. It was hypocritical so you agreed.

Johanna kept her unwavering eyes towards you. You matched her gaze until you found a soft glint in her eyes. Your shoulders relaxed as you looked a way. A deep sigh escaped your lips. “Fine, whoever gets picked for the reaping gets picked.”

“Great but we’re training for this. I am not going to have a rusty tribute as my mentee.”

~

Your heartbeat echoed in your ears and thumped against your rib cage. Your legs were wide enough for Johanna to fit between them. She stood in front of you playing with your hair as you buried your ear into her chest. Hers was almost as fast as yours but there was comfort in wrapping your arms around her.

You didn’t want to let go of Johanna. The thought of having to watch from the sidelines where you physically couldn’t protect her. The pressure in your chest felt like a bubbling volcano, stress building up before an eruption.

Usually the silence with Johanna was comfortable being able to be in the moment, in her arms. This time, the silent air was heavy. The small ticking of the clock reminded you of the looming possibility of going back to the arena.

You loved her. You made a promise not to volunteer but you had to. You had to protect her. Blight and Old Spruce came to pick you up for the reaping. When they knocked, Johanna gave you one last squeeze to your hand to comfort you. She made it a habit to hold your hands when you slipped into a memory lapse to keep you from rubbing the skin off your hands. In return you stocked and supplied the wooden logs for Johanna to split when her anger rose.

You snuck her a peck on her lips before the four of you trudged to the town square where the entirety of District 7 awaited the victors. The hot July sun did nothing to ease your worries as it heated your arms. You rocked onto your toes as the escort stepped onto the stage. It was ironic being an eligible tribute again. Seven years ago you dreaded for the slip to say your name and now seeing all the faces of District 7 on this raised platform, you prayed it was your name being called.

“Ladies First.” You stood staring out to your home. After these next moments, your life would never be the same. Either you get reaped and survive the loss of your closest friends turned enemy, Johanna is reaped and survives, you are reaped but die or Johanna is reaped but dies. The loss of it all would turn anyone insane.

Technically, you didn’t promise, you only agreed because it would get Johanna to not volunteer. So you could and you would. To your right, you could see Johanna eyeing you and you returned a glare.

“The female tribute from District 7 is...” He paused for dramatic effect and your heartbeat rose in your throat. Let it be me. Let it be me Let it be me. “Johanna Mason.” Your heart plummeted before turning your head to the escort. You weren’t going to accept this.

Before you could even open your mouth to object, you felt a sharp pain on your nose and a small pop in your neck from the force. Your head hit the ground and everything went black.

When you came to, you were on the train staring straight at Blight across from you on the table. “What the fuck happened?”

“Oh she’s back.” Spruce called. “You were out of it for about 30 minutes.”

“What do you remember?” Blight asked.

“Johanna was reaped and then it felt like my nose exploded.” You say wincing at the pain on the bridge of your nose. You groaned holding your head.

“Doc says you got a broken nose and a concussion.”

“Where’s Johanna?”

“The peacekeepers restrained her in her room.” The escort called. “She knocked you out in one go. She must’ve been so pissed that she was picked.” You shared a look with your fellow victors. The escort hadn’t been here to watch your relationship with Johanna. Both of you were great about hiding your relationship during the annual hunger games.

“So which of you got reaped?”

Blight took a deep breath. He took a swig of his alcohol laughing at the ridiculousness of it. “Can’t believe they’re making me go back after 20 something years.”

“So you and I are mentors.” Spruce solemnly said patting you on the shoulder. “Should I take Johanna?” He asked keeping up with appearances. Ironically it was like the 71st Hunger Games again. Mentoring was set by priority. Old Spruce had said yes to mentoring while the others said no meaning you had no choice but to mentor Johanna. This time you could choose her.

“No. No I’ll talk to her.”

“Take things slowly okay, you took a big fall.”

“Yes dad.” You joked. Dad was nice, ‘Old Spruce’ was pushing 65. He had been your mentor during your games and continued to take care of you afterwards.

The walk to Johanna’s room was short luckily. A peacekeepers stood outside the door and you smiled at him. “Hi I’m here to talk to my mentee.” He looked at you and stepped aside. As soon as the door slid closed, you looked at Johanna. “You fucking bitch.”

She turned her attention to you from the fuzzes of green zooming past the window. A soft smile plastered on her face. “You promised you weren’t going to volunteer.”

“Technically I didn’t. I agreed so you wouldn’t volunteer. We didn’t shake on it or pinky promise or sign a contract so….”

“You were going to volunteer.”

“Yes.”

“Great I’m glad I know you well enough.”

“Decking me in the face was part of the plan?”

“Absolutely.” You stared at her unamused. “Don’t look at me like that. We both know we were going to break that promise to protect the other. Maybe you planned that all along or it was a last minute thought but I saw the look on your face. I anticipated it and knocked you out before you could.” Johanna told shrugging her shoulders as she walked towards you.

“You broke my nose.”

“It’s better than you dead.” Johanna countered. “I said I wasn’t going to let you go back in. I made that promise to myself and I kept it.”

“What do I do if I lose you? Do you think you’re the only one who loves in this relationship.”

Johanna held onto your waist. “First, avenge me. Second, none of us want the other to go in but someone is going to be forced to. I’m sorry, I’d rather it be me than you. You would be safer.”

“Safe is a relative term and when did you become such a sap?”

“Oh you know, since I started dating the best girl I’ve ever met.”

“Shut up.”

“Why don’t you make me.”

You closed the gap and let your lips meld with the younger girl. Slowly, the two of you walked towards her bed. She sat on her bed and you climbed on top of her with little room to breathe. Johnna wrapped her arms around the back of your neck to bring you in closer deepen the kiss. She flipped you over before nuzzling her face into your neck.

You held her in your arms playing with her hair. Lulling yourself to sleep. “Don’t die okay.” You whispered.

“I won’t.”

“I do hope you break your nose though.”

“Ugh get over it.”

“No! Although it was a smart countermove.”

“Thank you. I thought long and hard about it for all of 5 seconds after you first told me not to volunteer.”

“Well that’s the last time I trust you.” You joked.

“You love me.”

“I do. I know you do too.”

“Yeah, I do.” Johanna sighed. The both of you laid motionless embracing the other, enjoying the moment.

[chickennoodlesoupjandb]

Home Again

Does anyone even read Hunger Games fanfics anymore?? I don't know, and I don't really care! I recently reread the series to get out of a reading slump, and now I'm hyperfixating again so... you guys get this which will probably turn into a multipart series because I FEEL LIKE IT, OKAY? Tl;dr: I'll do what I want.

Johanna Mason x fem!reader Warnings: Massive HUGE warnings for violence, blood, murder, etc., but also an especially HUGE warning for sexual assault, trauma in general, explicit language (let me know if I've missed anything) Word count: 2.5k

Summary: You're freshly home from winning the 73rd Hunger Games, and all you really want is for things to go back to normal for you and your brother. But now you're in the Victor's Village. And now Johanna Mason, who won the year before you, is your neighbor.

It’s not that you didn’t like the house in the Victor’s Village. It was objectively better than the cabin you and Leevee had lived in before. But at the cabin, you’d had neighbors. People who knew you, who looked after you and Leevee after the fever took your parents, even though you insisted you work in exchange for every loaf of bread, every mended pair of pants.

You took care of him as best you could, after your parents died. You dropped out of school and went to work in the lumber yards. Leevee went to school, of course, but his teachers didn’t teach him much of anything. There was something different about him, a bit off. Always had been, since he was born. The people in Seven called him slow, and maybe he was in some ways, but he was also kind and bighearted and quick to laugh and full of joy–traits hard-pressed to come by in a place like this. So everyone took to him and everyone looked out for him. They had a name for his affliction in the Capitol. But you didn’t like them naming something wrong with Leevee, as if what made him different was all there was to him. So you paid it no mind. To you, he was just your Leevee. Perfect just like he was.

It was hard to believe it'd only been three weeks since the Reaping. When your name had been called, you kept your eyes lasered in on the branches of a pine tree in the distance. You could hear Leevee calling your name from the crowd, confused about why you were on stage, and your heart felt like it was being pulled apart. But you would not cry. You wouldn’t let these Capitol people see you cry. It was not for them to see.

Your neighbor, Otta, a widow, had brought Leevee to see you before you had to leave. Only then did you let yourself cry and, even then, he hadn’t understood. He’d taken his handkerchief out of his pocket and pressed it to your face, and you told him to listen to Otta and the neighbors. That you were going away and you might not be back for a while, but that you loved him very much. Listen to Otta, you said. Keep those listening ears on, young man. And then he was gone. Or, rather, you were.

Before the Games, you hadn’t fancied your chances at winning. Sure, you were strong and, at eighteen, one of the oldest tributes. But you were very small, barely five feet tall, lithe and wiry. You could handle a saw and an ax fairly well from your time in the lumber yard, but you couldn’t imagine sawing through someone. You couldn’t imagine killing someone at all. Even worse was the thought of Leevee watching you kill someone or watching you die. You hoped Otta would cover his eyes.

The arena was the only thing in your favor during the 73rd Hunger Games. A coastal ecosystem. Not rainforest, like parts of Seven, but tall, spindly pines that bent in the wind. It wasn’t exactly like home, but you were nothing if not comfortable around trees. Your saving grace in the Games turned out to be your size. The trees were impossible but all for the smallest of the tributes–you and the youngest–to climb. The first night you spent in one of those pines, you thought you might crash to your death from all the swaying, but once you acclimated, it was like the tree was rocking you. It would have been nice if not for the cannons in the air, if not for the constant terror.

You managed to find plants to eat, to catch fish in the small river that trickled into the artificial ocean. Your Games lasted six days, and you spent most of it in the trees.

That last night… You knew you’d have to kill him. The Career from One. But he was so big–a full foot and a half taller than you and stocky to boot–and vicious. You didn’t even have a real weapon, just some river rocks and a bit of your shirt you’d been using as a sling. But One–you didn’t even like to hear his name now, didn’t like to remember it–he’d found the superior weapon. You’d woken up to your tree shaking, to the tell-tale crackling and groaning of a trunk in distress. One had an ax, and the trees here were so spindly, it’d be a matter of minutes before it toppled, especially with your weight at the top. You tried to scramble down far enough that when the tree fell, you wouldn’t die from it, but you still had a long way to go when the trunk cracked.

It was the landing that did you in. You hit the ground so hard it knocked your breath out. Knocked your brain pretty good, too, based on how blurry everything was afterward. You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe for a few seconds, and that few seconds was all One needed. He was on top of you, and the weight of him made it even harder to catch your breath. You were faintly aware of your body fighting back, but it was like fighting back against a mountain. You screamed when he stabbed long hunting knives into either of your forearms, all the way through, pinning you to the ground, and almost passed out from the pain. This was it. This was how you'd die. You’d like to say you thought of Leevee, but all you thought of was how scared you were.

But… he wasn’t killing you. He wasn’t getting another weapon. He was… undressing? And suddenly you remembered that there were things worse than death. You screamed and screamed until your throat gave out. You didn’t care who saw you cry now, couldn’t have stopped the tears if you’d wanted to. People didn’t do this in the Games. They murdered each other. They hurt each other. They tore one another to bits. But they didn’t do this. Surely, the Capitol wouldn’t let this happen, wouldn’t let this air on TV. There was a line, surely. But as soon as you thought it, the hope left your body deflated and empty except for the man–the boy, mere months older than you–grunting above you. There was no line. Not where the Capitol was involved.

But somewhere in your pain-addled brain, you realized that he was… occupied, which meant he wasn’t keeping a close enough eye on his weapons. You screamed as you wrenched one of your arms out of the ground and pulled the knife from your other wrist. There was a moment, right at the last second, where he looked up and understood what you were doing, but it was too late by then. The last thing you remembered from the arena was plunging the knife into his neck.

When they made you watch the replay of your “victory,” you’d hardly recognized yourself. Covered in blood, lips curled up in a snarl, as if you were an animal. You hadn’t stopped at his neck. You’d stabbed him over and over and over. You’d stabbed his genitals so many times there was nothing left but a mangled, bloody mess. And then you’d passed out.

And, to be frank, you could never bring yourself to feel any remorse over it. For the others you’d killed, the ones who’d happened by your perch over the river, and died quickly from a stone to the temple–you felt awful. It tore you apart. But One? For what he had done to you, he deserved every moment of his gruesome, painful death.

Now that you were back in Seven, back with Leevee, and moved into the Victor’s Village, you knew that it would never be the same. Not with the people that knew you before. Everyone looked at you like a wounded animal, like someone to be pitied. The assault had traumatized the entire nation. Even the Capitol viewers had so disliked the “assault narrative,” that the Games Committee had put forth a blanket statement that, in the future, sexual violence would be met with a swift and immediate death. One of your old neighbors told you that you should feel proud that you made a difference in the future games, protecting future tributes. You’d gone home and vomited, as you did every night after you woke up screaming, sweating, feeling the weight of One on top of you.

Your solace these days was Leevee. You were struggling to get used to the isolation of the Victor’s Village, even though your tendency now was to isolate yourself anyway. He was so happy to have you back. He didn’t really understand where you’d gone. Otta and the others had told him you were “camping,” and that’s where you were when he saw you on the screens.

You didn’t need to work in the lumber yard anymore, so you spent long days with Leevee. Now that you had time, you were teaching him things that the instructors at school didn’t bother with, like how to read. And you’d left school so early to take care of him that you had learning to do, too. There wasn’t much of a library to speak of, in Seven, but oddly enough your house at the Victor’s Village had come stocked with books, and you were making your way through all of them.

Your favorite part of the day was your afternoon walk with Leevee. Long and leisurely. You spent a lot of time at the fountain in the center of the Victor’s houses. You gave him stones to throw in and fished them out, barefoot in the water. You had the fountain and the Village pretty much to yourself. Just Blight, who kept to himself, and Johanna, who’d won two years ago. You had known Johanna a little, at school, but you'd never spoken much, just in passing. You’d dropped out so early, there hadn’t been much time for friends.

Johanna seemed to have built some kind of improvised woodshop outside of her house, and she was out there quite a bit, but you never approached her. She didn’t seem like the kind of person who took kindly to strangers, especially since her Games, two years before yours. She’d been belligerent and hostile in the Capitol and, in retaliation, they’d killed her family. Officially, of course, they’d died of the fever. Unofficially, Snow’s roses, left on each of their deathbeds for Johanna to find when she’d returned from a day in the forest, were warning enough.

But you noticed her watching you on your walks with Leevee, when you played with him at the fountain. Felt her eyes on you and tried to ignore them. They were like everyone else’s–full of pity. And you were so tired of being pitied. Yes, it had been awful. Yes, there were nights that you jerked awake and wished One had just killed you instead of leaving you like this. But then who would Leevee have? He needed you.

One day, when you and Leevee walked past Johanna's house on the way to the fountain, you found her sitting on her porch steps, staring as usual. Her eyes were hard and direct, and you found it hard to meet them. You were tired of this. So tired.

“Leevee, go ahead to the fountain, young man. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Leevee happily ran ahead, and you whipped your head around to face Johanna, pulling yourself into as imposing a figure as you could manage in your tiny frame. Which, given that you had stabbed a man to death, was maybe more than you could hope for otherwise. 

You glared at her, finally meeting her cool eyes. “Stop looking at me like that,” you spat, your voice steady and sharp.

Johanna looked almost… amused? She stood and walked toward you, smirking. “Like what, half-pint?”

You hadn’t really expected her to engage with you at all, and you were losing confidence quickly. Johanna was taller than you, more confident than you, cooler than you, tougher than you, prettier than you. You stopped yourself. Prettier? Who cares about prettier?!

“Like you feel sorry for me! Look at me like an animal or a fucking murderer, I don’t care. Just…” You deflated slightly, shifting your eyes to the ground. “Don’t look at me like that.”

Johanna was quiet for a moment, as if she was sizing you up. You wished you could tell what she was thinking. You wanted Johanna to like you or at least tolerate you but, then, did Johanna actually like anybody?

“Okay,” she said and shrugged. You couldn’t quite believe it. Would it really be that easy? “I’ll look at you like you are.”

“Like I am?”

“Mmhm.”

You waited for her to elaborate, but she never did, instead turning and walking back toward her porch. You shook your head and went to meet Leevee by the fountain. You hoped you hadn’t fucked it up. Was this Johanna’s version of friendly? You weren’t really sure. You got the feeling you’d know if she didn’t like you.

“Hey, Y/N!”

You stopped and looked behind you to find Johanna trotting up, holding something in her hands. She handed you the object–a small sailboat carved out of wood. You looked at the boat–so smooth, so beautifully crafted–and then at Johanna, confused.

“For your brother,” she explained. “To use in the fountain. It’s made of cedar, so it’ll float.”

You were stunned speechless, watching Johanna, who kept her eyes on some fixed point in the distance and wrung her hands as if she were… nervous? Johanna, nervous? And suddenly, she didn’t seem so intimidating to you, this girl who’d orchestrated a bloodbath to win the Games. Who’d been so filled with rage and hurt by the part she’d been forced to play, only to have everyone she loved taken from her. She wasn’t scary at all, you realized. Not really. She was like you. She was a scared, angry girl who’d done what she had to do to survive.

“Anyway,” she said, eager for the moment to end. “See you never, shortstuff.” She hurried back toward her house, but you yelled after her.

“Hey, Johanna! You could go on a walk with us sometime. You know, if you wanted.”

“Why would I want to hang out with you!?” she called without turning back.

You grinned. So Johanna might take a little work. That was okay. You had time. You had nothing but time now.

You approached Leevee, who was finding nearby sticks to throw in the fountain.

“Hey, young man,” you said, beckoning him over. “Look at this! Johanna made it for you!”

And, oh, you wished she could have seen his eyes light up. You had a hunch that she was still watching, from her window or her woodshop or wherever she’d planted herself. Leevee could melt anyone’s heart, even yours. Maybe even hers.

[chickennoodlesoupjandb]

hi! could you write a Johanna x fem!reader fic where the reader is a tribute from district 11? She won the 69th games when she was 12-14, and during her game, she became very close friends with an older tribute from District 5 (they were like Rue and Katniss). the older tribute died for reader.

Johanna and reader know each other from the few years where they had been dragged to the capitol to "mentor" for the games. they became very close.

when reader was also reaped for the quarter quell, johanna was there to comfort her as soon as she could.

johanna and reader protect each other in the arena, and reader gets captured by the capitol instead of johanna.

afraid to love you - j.m.

pairings: johanna mason x reader (romantic), platonic katniss everdeen x reader, platonic finnick odair x reader, platonic peeta mellark x reader

summary: Johanna Mason loved you, she loved how passionate you are and how kind and caring you are. When you got dragged to the capital to mentor the tributes a few times, at first you hated Johanna, but then you grew to love her. What happens when in the quarter quell of the 75th hunger games you’re captured by the capital and Johanna is left alone in District 13?

a/n: i changed some things ^^

warnings: graphic volence, graphic torture, angst, some fluff

You hated this, hated the unknown of it all. A part of you was glad that it had been you and not Johanna. At least you were semi liked by the capital so they would not kill you at least. You sighed, you’ve been unable to close your eyes ever since you woke up here, in this disgustingly bright white room.

“Are you Y/N L/N?” A man in a white coat and a badge asked, walking into the room with an air of confidence. You scowled at the man. You didn’t answer his question.

“It would be better for you to answer my questions. Are you Y/N L/N?” He repeated the previous question. You grit your teeth, still not saying a word.

“Alright then, you’ll learn to talk eventually.” He said, his hand hovering over the plethora of tools in front of him. You looked at him in silent horror, a plea in your eyes but nonetheless that did not stop the man from picking up tweezers and placing them under your first finger nail.

CRACK!

You closed your eyes tightly, biting your lip to stifle your scream. The man chuckled at you. Muttering something about how you’ll start screaming soon.

He went to your other finger nail. Ripping the nail out of its nailbed, you groaned but the scream was muffled back down your throat again.

You started to lose track of time, the hours seemingly endless and the torture nonstop. He’d ask the same questions, while taking each nail he could.

“Are you Y/N L/N?”

“Where are the rebels hiding?”

“Were you in on the plan?”

“Who is the leader of the rebels?”

Over and over and over again.

You don’t know when you started screaming or when your voice became hoarse. The lights beginning to truly make your eyes hurt.

The man decided eventually to move onto another type of torture. He put a rag over your head, and then came the water.

You weren’t expecting this, you weren’t expecting to be waterboarded. The water seems to be endless, soaking into your nostrils, your mouth, and your eyes. You gagged, choking on the water and coughing but having no break with it. Water getting into your lungs causing your chest to heave painfully.

You don’t know when you passed out or if you ever did. Time became nothing more than torturous. Tick tock, the clock would go, you supposed the clock is there to make you feel insane.

When that wasn’t enough they’d inject something into your veins, it made you scream and writhe in your bounds. It felt like your bones were on fire, like your stomach acid is burning through your fat, skin, and muscle.

Sometimes you would get a hallucinogen. You’d see Johanna, but it wasn’t her. She’d come to save you, hold you, and then you would wake crying.

“Oh my god…” You heard her, you heard Johanna. Unsure if this is just a trick or hallucination you cracked your eyelids open. When did you get here? It wasn’t as bright, it definitely was not the capital.

You wriggled a bit, bringing your hand to your face. You gazed unsurely at your own hand, unsure if this is real. Your eyes shifted to Johanna’s figure, you didn’t feel anything, not relief, not happiness. You’ve been through this too many times to get hopeful only to have everything ripped away the next second.

“You’re not real. You’re not real, you’re not real, you’re not real.” You chanted over and over again, shaking your head you refused to believe this was real. Too many times you had the hope, had Johanna, ripped away from your grasp.

“Dove?” You shook your head again, tears stinging at your eyes.

“It’s me, I.. I’m real. I swear.” This was different, the hallucinations never demanded that they were real. A spark of hope fired into your chest.

“Jo?” You replied tearfully, hopefully even. You sounded so unsure that it broke Johanna’s heart. You then spotted Katniss and Finnick behind Johanna. A sob broke through your pale cracked lips.

You were muttering incomprehensible words to yourself, rocking back and forth.

“It’s me, they can’t hurt you anymore. I won’t let them.” Johanna murmured, stepping to your bedside. You looked up, tears streaming down your cheeks, raw emotion in your eyes. You tentatively reached out to her, to Johanna.

Johanna took the hand that had shakenly been moving towards her. She brought your hand to her lips kissing it.

“This is real…” You muttered in disbelief. Jo finally let a few tears fall.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry… I tried to get you three back sooner. I am so sorry.” Katniss said, her voice cracking. You looked up at the woman, a woman so brave for someone who’s just a kid.

“It’s ok. They didn’t break me.” You said, albeit emotionally but you’re not hundred percent ok right not and that’s fine.

The five of you huddled into a hug. Peeta somehow snuck into the hug as well. and you all laughed, you were all together again. You might never be the same but at least you were alive and had everything you needed.

[chickennoodlesoupjandb]

angel in your pocket quinn fabray.

warnings; sub!quinn, angel!reader. not hate-fucking. irritated-fucking. masturbation (in the same room as an angel), voyeurism because God Is Always Watching, motel room sex. spn!au quinn wc; 2k.

Quinn hasn’t had alone time in what feels like a fucking millenia. In the grand scheme of things, out of all that she’s sacrificed for the hunting life; her innocence, childhood, a normal, healthy relationship with literally any human being—negligible, compared to the great and terrible woe of having absolutely zero time to masturbate.

Like, seriously. Almost zilch. Hell, nowadays she’ll flop back to bed after a hunt and pass out from exhaustion. Not even enough time to sneak in an innocent tryst against her pillow.

So, of course—with the rare occasion of her baby sister and her being (forcibly) split up for a hunt, for once; and Quinn having her first free day in—well, years (also, forcibly)—when she cranks the blinds down, sinks onto the motel room mattress, bedsprings creaking underneath her—she’s prepared for the most blissful, mind-numbing, apex-of-Nirvana type of relaxation. Involving; a bolt-locked door, three fingers, and a whole lot of time.

Except, things can never go Quinn’s way. Because just when she’s sufficiently worked herself up enough to sport a damp spot, hips rocking upwards as the barest brush of her fingers catches the hem of her underwear—there’s a sudden, blinding crack of light—the familiar crackle of ozone; and such heralds her favourite (derisive) and only guardian angel standing over her bed. 

“What in the ever living fuck?” Quinn hisses, scrabbling to fling the blankets over herself. “What the hell is wrong with you?” (You’d think, around an angel, Quinn would tone down the swearing. Except being raised by a gunslinging, monster-smoking preacherman meant Quinn veers from the Lord’s name like it's red-hot iron. Cussing was free-game, though. Swear words are made-up; God isn’t.)

You scrunch your nose, wings outstretched, tips brushing the motel room’s popcorn ceiling. You sniff the air. Heady. Thick with the scent of Quinn’s arousal. 

“It reeks.” 

Quinn prays you get asbestos in your feathers. 

“Were you indecent?” In your stupid angel get-up, feathery wings and all, the inquisitive tilt of your head makes you look like an oversized bird. A quizzical owl. She’s also just being mean in her head on purpose because 1. She knows you can hear this cute little introspection, if you can be bothered listening. (No, she’s not bitter that you’ve been ignoring her prayers for weeks), 2. She also knows you’re just fucking with her, because your lips are quirking upwards, and Oh, hoot-fucking-hoot. “Shouldn’t you tell me?” Quinn scowls, yanking her top over her head as she grumbles. You’ve breezed right on to the topic of the coming rapture. Lovely.

“Lilith. Her arrival cometh in four days. You and your sister must cross state lines by then.”

“Okay.” Quinn is only half-listening. She’s far too preoccupied with the red-hot pulse still throbbing at her crotch. Her briefs cling, damp against her skin. Sticky. Underneath the blankets, she squeezes her thighs together. Shit. Shiiiit. It gives her a brief reprieve, but it’s still not enough.

“—and if you do not give the angels an answer soon, they will keep coming. Michael—”

“It’ll be a cold day in Hell before I ever say yes to that fucker. You hear me?” She growls as her fingers run over the sodden fabric of her underwear, lashes fluttering as she skims up her waistband—because the reminder that she is, apparently, destined to be a hollow shell housing an archangel to shank the devil (housing her baby sister) is not enough to kill the last lingerings of her good mood. 

“I hear the Ninth Circle is unpleasantly frigid.” Quinn snorts. “You are such a smartass.” She circles her fingers, ever-so-slightly, against the thin barrier that just barely separates the ache in her soul from sweet, sweet relief. You are still, depressingly, there, and rambling on about scriptures and duties and blah, blah blah. She’d memorised all of that shit when she was three. Burned into the back of her skull. Experimentally, she applies a bit of pressure, just to ease herself. Quinn swallows, hard. 

“You’re not listening to me.” There’s that pretty little frown. 

“No, m��totally listening.” Quinn bucks her hips upwards, and her clit bumps against the ridges of her fly. She almost moans out loud. “I’m just saying no.” Maybe if she rocks her hips it’ll get a little friction righttt—ah, yeah. There’s the spot. “You’re aroused.” 

Whatever snarky quip Quinn was about to say wilts on her tongue. She pauses her movements, of which was hooking her index down to shimmy her briefs down her thighs, to glower—cheeks puffing out to exhale a frustrated huff. “Yeah, well, you picked a pretty shitty time, if you asked me.”

You sigh. “The dawn of the apocalypse will not wait for you to finish masturbating, Quinn.” 

Then, promptly and unceremoniously, you rip the blanket off of her. She is ashamed to say, she squeals. “Wh— hey!” Cold air rushes quick enough to shiver, band of her briefs rolled just enough that her cunt is exposed, and a current runs down her spine at the way your gaze falls, honing in on it.

Instinctively, Quinn goes to wrench the covers back over, of course, but attempting to tear the scratchy thing out from your hands is like trying to move a literal mountain. It’s also, long-forgotten in the swift way  you glide forwards, smoothly sliding to your knees and clasping strong (and somehow, gentle) hands at her knees and nosing between her legs and—

“Um. What’re you doing?” The words spill out in a rush, body tense—alarm bells ringing, because in the brief time she’s known you, Quinn has discovered she doesn’t quite know as much about angels as she thought she did—or as Father had told her— but she certainly didn’t think angels were in the business of peering up at her with those innocuous, unblinking doe-eyes of yours, through those stupidly lush lashes. Nor prying her thighs apart and swiping a thumb over the sticky residue left behind with a low, rumbling hum and shit. When did she get that wet?

“You’re not focusing. You must focus. This is the most efficient solution.”

“Fucking me is the most efficient solution?” Quinn gapes, and if her voice cracks and comes out an entire register higher, that’s her business. “That’s—you’re shameless!”

“I’m shameless? An Angel of the Lord visits upon you, urges you of your role in the Holy Scriptures, and you begin pleasuring yourself.”

Okay, when you put it like that, Quinn doesn’t have much ground. 

“I was finishing,” She blusters, cheeks flaming She’s arguing for the sake of arguing—with all the petulance she can muster, because otherwise, she doesn’t know what is an appropriate reaction to an angel’s tongue flicking up your skin, nose nudging between the crook of your warm, wet folds and inner thigh. 

Her breathing grows ragged. Fuck, fuck— fuck. “It’s not my fault you come at the worst time ever—” She’s aware she sounds like a bratty teenage girl, but you also lecture her with an ego the size of a small city, and when your tongue finally meets the sopping heat of her cunt, she makes a sound the furthest thing from holy. “Can—fuck—a girl not knock?”

“The Lord doesn’t knock.” You retort plainly, flat of your tongue dragging upwards. Quinn speaks through gritted teeth, fists curling. 

“‘Behold—I stand at the door, and knock; if any man hear my voice and—oh, fuck..—open the door, I will come into him—”

You stop in your tracks, head lifting. Any disappointment at the way your tongue slips out from her folds is quelled by the sizable strip of satisfaction unfurling in her gut. Seeing you; stare incredulous, mouth still open. For once, you’re the one taken off-guard. 

“Did you just.. quote scripture at me?” A draught sweeps in the room, and your fingers twitch inside of her as if considering whether to curl them to the knuckle or jerk yourself out entirely or reach up her ribs and perhaps yank her heart out from the inside. You do none of those things, and instead settle on gaping in utter disbelief. Quinn grins. 

“Revelations; chapter three, verse twenty, baby.” Quinn’s not her Daddy’s girl for nothing. 

“..It was an euphemism.” You grumble, annoyed, and if Quinn didn’t know any better—embarrassed—though from here, she can only see the flushed tips of your ears. Tne hand gripping her thigh tightens, a pressure so negligible Quinn might think she’d imagined if—if it weren’t for the fact, that, out of fucking nowhere, your thumb presses hard against the swollen bud of her clit. 

She cries out, hips jolting up off the mattress, and you don’t let her come back down–one hand supporting her entire bodyweight, as her legs quake. She scrabbles for purchase, and finds your hair a suitable levy.

“Ah—what the—fuck—” “And you call me the smartass,” You grunt, and another finger snakes in underneath the others, with a squelch so obscene Quinn almost blushes, though she only whines with approval instead. You thrust, deeper. “If you had talked back in such a way in B.C, I would’ve ripped out your tongue.” 

Score. Quinn totally knew she got you all hot and bothered. Despite it all, she can’t stop the smirk worming its way on her lips. You can’t win against a celestial being shaped by God—but you can savour the little victories. 

You’re panting, she can feel it—each puff of your breath—coming hot along her thighs and against her ella’s and into her cunt. Quinn is all at once hit with the dizzying thought that, that same breath has blown entire civilizations to dust—and right now—right now it’s being used to dirty-talk into her pussy. 

“It wasn’t even written in B.C, you sanctimonious—oh, fuck.” Apparently, you don’t appreciate her sense of humour, because you ravage her like you’re trying to carve out a space for Michael yourself with your teeth, fingers sliding in deep and pressing out against her walls, fighting against the resistance in their tight clenches—stretching out, as your tongue swirls over her clit. For a moment, her entire brain empties, and the tension—winding, winding, winding in a band she didn’t even know existed—snaps. Her hiss is strangled, nails curling into dank bedsheets and a white-hot flash has her thighs crunching together, slamming down against your head and all as she gasps at the feeling, like iron striking stone. It’s the most surreal thing she’s ever fucking experienced. She grasps, free hand fisting the back of your head, tightly, and she’s grinding out the sopping, slick folds of her pussy against your open mouth, legs coiled around your neck like a vice. 

In the bleary remnants of thoughts she has, she figures you can’t mind too much. Angels don’t need breath, after all. (The sexy heaves of your chest when you pant, splattered with demon blood or the spine-arching way you glide up her thighs is designed, specifically, to torture her, she thinks). 

It’s the quickest orgasm she’s ever had, in all whopping twenty-six years of her life.

Your chin come away glistening, a glassy sheen coating skin and trickling, down the holy, unblemished stretch of your neck to your clavicles. 

“..Wow.” She croaks.

Her eyes, unbidden, follow the bob of your throat. You swallow. An audible ah bursts through your lips, like you’ve just downed a bubbly pitcher of beer rather than her cum. Through the renewed pounding in her head and cunt, she hears a strangled whimper. She realises it’s her own, too late. 

She needs a beer, right about now. She watches, with hazy eyes, as you simply get up off the mattress and stray to the rickety table that hosts nothing but empty cans and spare ammunition. You pull out two chairs, opposite one another.

“..Not the cuddlin’ type, then?” She rasps, weakly. Damn you and your stupid feathers for looking so unruffled when you still have her juices dribbling down your throat. She’s overcome with inscrutable urge to wrench you back by the collar and lick her salt off your skin.

“Come. We must finish our talk.”

Quinn flops, her face buried into the pillow. Her eyes are heavy, lids dropping as she groans into cushion.

“..You’re not serious.”

“I did say, efficient."

[chickennoodlesoupjandb]

⌖ BOT DUMP—RIBBED MUSIC FOR THE NUMB GENERATION INSPIRED BOTS ₊ SHE WANTS REVENGE BOTS ⌖

𓇳 DISC #1

───#1 ⋮ STRIPPER ⸝⸝⸝ QUINN FABRAY

❝The way you move, i’m in the mood. Tease the crowd, please the crowd.❞

───#2 ⋮ MY VAMPIRE ⸝⸝⸝ DAMON SALVATORE

❝My vampire, my vampire's fine, my vampire, my vampire's okay.❞

───#3 ⋮ RIGHT AND RIGHT AGAIN ⸝⸝⸝ QUINN FABRAY

❝I like Mondays now, your weak and weeded out.❞

───#4 ⋮ TRASH THE RENTAL ⸝⸝⸝ DEAN WINCHESTER

❝Trash it, trash it. It's just a rental.❞

───#5 ⋮ IM NOT COOL ⸝⸝⸝ KLAUS MIKAELSON

❝I wanted you there's no way back, got a destructive appetite.❞

───#6 ⋮ WEEKENDER ⸝⸝⸝ BLAIR WALDORF

❝And did you think i was just for the weekend? Like something you could just hold down and go?❞

───#7 ⋮ PLEASURES OF SOHO ⸝⸝⸝ CATE DUNLAP

❝Give me your attention, i'll show you all the pleasures of Soho, give me your worst intentions.❞

───#8 ⋮ NO REGRETS ⸝⸝⸝ KOL MIKAELSON

❝Tame me, i want a test. Tame me, i’ll have no regrets.❞

───#9 ⋮ 1724 ⸝⸝⸝ CATE DUNLAP

❝With your lips on top of mine, and your blonde hair and blue eyes.❞

𓇳 DISC #2

───#1 ⋮ RED FLAGS AND LONG NIGHTS ⸝⸝⸝ ELIJAH MIKAELSON

❝You can occupy my every sigh, you can rent the space inside my mind.❞

─── #2 ⋮ THESE THINGS ⸝⸝⸝ KAI PARKER

❝Says i'm a bad man, she's locking me out. It's 'cause of these things, it's 'cause of these things.❞

───#3 ⋮ I DONT WANT TO FALL IN LOVE ⸝⸝⸝ KATHERINE PIERCE

❝Right face wrong time, she's sweet. (But I don't wanna fall in love).❞

───#4 ⋮ OUT OF CONTROL ⸝⸝⸝ ELENA GILBERT

❝This song is turning me on, the beat is doing me in, or maybe it's only you.❞

───#5 ⋮ TEAR YOU APART ⸝⸝⸝ DEAN WINCHESTER

❝I want to hold you close soft breasts, beating heart as I whisper in your ear: i want to fucking tear you apart.❞

───#6 ⋮ SHE LOVES ME, SHE LOVES ME NOT ⸝⸝⸝ KLAUS MIKAELSON

❝I saw you only yesterday, we shared a smile, then went our separate ways.❞

ps… i wanted to do christmas bots but got sidetracked… (as we can tell) honestly after watching gossip girl and the song “stripper” came out in an ep i wanted to do this. but i’m still trying to make some christmas’s bots!

[chickennoodlesoupjandb]

LOOK MANNNN

it’s sad

but true

[chickennoodlesoupjandb]

Illustrations from Our Father's God Saga by John Bauer (1911)

[chickennoodlesoupjandb]

I Choose Her | Chp: 14

Hermione Granger x Slytherin Fem!Reader

Summary: You are the daughter of two known death eaters from one of the oldest and richest families in the wizarding world. Are you truly prepared to give up everything you know for Hermione Granger?

Pairing: Hermione x Reader

Wordcount: 4k

Warnings: smut, vaginal fingering, y/n is lowkey service top, tooth rotting fluff, light angst

Note: gonna be honest not much at all happens in this one plot wise and it's definitely for selfish reasons lol i really just wanted to write a more fluffy chapter after all the angst in the last one...

there is tiny bit of smut in this so if you wish to skip it look out for the asterisks!

lastly, i do plan to get the next part out as soon as i can. i don't want you guys to have to wait several weeks again so keep a lookout for it! but as always, endless thanks for your patience and i hope you enjoy this one <3

Taglist: @gvrsto @aweidlich @xxsekhmet @arielj @poppyflower-22 @scarleigh1989 @smut-religiously777 @cocoyeehaw @blackbirdv98 @arcturusseer @iamcapitalgbicorn8287 @lonewalker17 @karasonromanoff @httphayn @bigbadsofty07 @cherryflavoredcoke @dumpsapphic @idontwannabehereatm @js-a-writer @baylegend6 @puta1

You stir awake to the feeling of a gentle hand against your chest.

"My love.." Hermione whispers into your ear, you soon feel her lips on your cheek.

You fail to open your eyes, merely let out a groan in response, earning a light chuckle from the Gryffindor.

"What time is it?" You ask, finally opening your eyes slightly to look at your girlfriend.

Hermione remains gazing at you fondly, her hand moves from your chest to your face, she begins trailing your features with her fingers as she answers your question.

"I think it's half past noon." Your girlfriend responds and you let out a breath of relief.

After another sleepless night you managed to slip into a dreamless slumber afterall, even if it was a few short hours, you are thankful for it regardless. 

You shut your eyes again, for a few moments you simply laid still, enjoying the sensation of Hermione's careful fingers on your face, that is until a certain realization hits you.

"Wait, were you watching me sleep?" You ask, bemused, shifting your entire body to look at your girlfriend properly.

Hermione lets out a giggle at that, she sets her bottom lip in between her teeth.

"Maybe.." She admits with a shrug and you can't help the smirk playing on your lips as you catch her looking away sheepishly.

You reach up to slowly swipe your thumb across her mouth. Hermione stops biting her lip as her eyes now flit down to your own. 

Hermione leans in suddenly, eagerly, as if she's entirely abandoned her intrinsic nature of repressing her urges, her lips meet yours with true want and passion. As Hermione kisses you time stops, you don't see, hear or feel anything besides her.

Your girlfriend eventually pulls away but you are far from finished. You held her in place by the collar as you continued trailing open mouthed kisses against her jaw before moving to her neck.

Hermione's breath catches in her throat as your tongue makes contact with her pulse point, you feel her reach down to grip your shirt, she clutches the fabric tightly as she tries to speak.

"The others are already having lunch in the kitchen, we should probably join them." Her voice trembles slightly and you have to force back a grin.

"Yes.. we should." You respond, leaning back to look at her. Hermione remains clutching your shirt in, her eyes remain fixed on your mouth in anticipation as you spoke.

"Or we could stay in bed.. I think we deserve to spend some time together, just the two of us" You add before leaning in to connect your lips again.

Hermione lets out a whimper at your sudden action and it only urges you on.

You finally sit up, guiding Hermione back to her side of the bed and she quickly takes the hint, properly laying her head on the pillow. As she does so you seize the opportunity to move on top of her, settling yourself in between her legs.

Your lips finally part but your face remains hovering over Hermione's. You always thought she looked the most beautiful like this, unguarded, content, staring up at you with nothing but affection.

Hermione smiles as she reaches up to thread her fingers through your hair, and you basically wilt under her touch instantaneously.

"I wish that you and I could just escape.. somewhere far away where no one would find us." Your girlfriend finally states and you lean down to place a chaste kiss on her cheek. 

You catch the desperation in her voice and it nearly shatters you.

"I wish for that too, my love." You reply, and Hermione has to avert her eyes again, this time for a different reason.

You both knew running away was not a possibility. 

You also understood that this war was far from over, even though you felt like you've been on the run for an eternity. It was truly only just the beginning. 

The incident at Malfoy Manor only made you realize just how entirely uncertain the future is; it weighs on each of you heavily. 

On the other hand it also acts as a reminder for you to live everyday as if it were your last. You aim to appreciate every moment spent with Hermione, to take advantage of these times alone with her in any way that you can.

**

"Let's not think about it right now." You utter just above a whisper, with a finger underneath her chin you guide Hermione to look at you. Your face is inching closer, but you don't kiss her yet, you wait for her to meet you halfway; and she does.

Hermione seems to take your advice as she is quickly consumed by the feeling of your mouth against hers. She closes her eyes as she fully loses herself in the kiss. Your girlfriend focuses on your hands on her body, your breath mingling with her own.

The bed begins to shake slightly from the force of the kiss. Hermione lets out another noise of pleasure as your tongue moves against hers. With a hand on the back of your head the other girl pulls you in even closer, wanting to feel all of you. 

In a moment of heated desperation you grab the hem of her shirt, tugging it upwards. Hermione lifts herself up slightly, allowing you to remove it from her body completely.

You aimlessly toss her shirt to the side before placing a quick peck on the corner of her mouth. You pull away to continue trailing kisses down her chest, another shiver runs through Hermione as she soon feels your tongue against the swell of her breast, goosebumps form on her skin as you continue your journey down until you reach her nipple.

A moan slips out of Hermione's lips, in both shock and pleasure as you take the sensitive bud into your mouth. You continue licking and sucking at it, your girlfriend's tight grip on your hair only makes you more eager to do the same to her other breast. This time you bite down on the flesh playfully before quickly soothing it with your tongue, you pull another whine from Hermione at the sensation.

She arches her back but you expertly pin her back down onto the mattress with a firm hand on her stomach, Hermione squirms underneath you as a result.

"Please.." Your girlfriend whispers and you merely smirk in response. 

You don't entertain her with a proper reply, purposefully; you continue nipping at her skin, as you reach her navel, you bite down again, slightly harder this time before immediately soothing the mark with your tongue and Hermione groans.

"Y/n.." She repeats and you decide to finally acknowledge her plea.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" You ask, feigning innocence, your face hovering over hers once more.

Hermione only makes a noise of disapproval at your response, one that sounds more like a sob than a whine, she squirms again but you distract her by kissing her deeply.

You soon feel her grabbing ahold of your free hand mid kiss, impatiently guiding it to the hem of her sweatpants, slipping it underneath her underwear.

"Please– touch me." Hermione begs, pushing your hand deep inside enough that your fingers make slight contact with her already dripping heat.

Your girlfriend's sheer desperation made you weak, you can feel how wet she already is; so you decided to cease torturing her.

You kiss her again, simultaneously, finally, swiping your fingers across her folds, you apply pressure against her clit with your thumb and Hermione has to stop kissing you as she chokes out a moan. 

Your girlfriend grips the back of your neck as she moves her hips eagerly, trying to create more friction between your fingers and her core. Hermione is already a writhing mess, you observed as her chest raised and fell at a rapid rate, the sight manages to take your own breath away.

"I want your fingers inside." Hermione means it as an order but her voice trembles as she rolls her hips again.

You catch sight of your girlfriend's strained expression, almost like it physically pained her the longer you took to satisfy her needs.

You decide to set aside your initial plans to make her wait, soon tilting your head to bite down on the flesh of Hermione's neck as you enter two fingers inside her. The sound that erupts from Hermione's chest is loud, it is one of intense pleasure; and you are quickly addicted to it. 

You pushed further in until you were knuckle deep, Hermione's mouth falls open as she throws her head back at the feeling. She maintains her firm grip on your neck, moving her other hand to your back, you can feel her fingernails digging into your flesh, even with the fabric of your shirt acting as a barrier, it is still painful. You groan in pain as you begin pumping in and out of her at a steady pace. 

Your fingers manage to hit deep inside of her, with every movement Hermione gasps and moans grow louder and more frequent. She is closer to her peak than you initially thought, you notice her walls already contracting around your fingers.

Hermione arches her back again and this time you guide her body back down with your pelvis, holding her in place.

"Does that feel good?" You ask, your lips brushing against her ear, already knowing the answer, your aim was simply to tease her.

Hermione attempts to glare at you but as you continue skillfully pumping in and out her, she can only afford to nod. She lets out another moan, one you swallow just in time as you move your mouth against hers harshly.

Your girlfriend reciprocates, the kiss remains all tongue and open-mouthed as Hermione attempts to catch her breath.

"I love you–" She proclaims her love to you amidst her high and you can't help but smile down at her, your chest brimming with adoration.

"I love you too, my sweet girl." You respond, pumping your fingers even faster and deeper.

Hermione gasps again, her hand quickly leaves your back to grip the sheets underneath, and you can tell her release is just around the corner.

"You are just so beautiful." You praise, in genuine awe, and this manages to push Hermione over the edge as her orgasm hits her violently. You feel her walls squeezing painfully around your fingers as her entire body shakes underneath you, Hermione pulls you even closer, with a last ditch effort to muffle her own moans she buries her face in the crook of your neck.

Your girlfriend lets out a whimper as you slowly pull out of her, the aftershocks of her orgasm still making her tremble. 

Moments pass and Hermione remains not speaking but she continues to hold you close, and you allow her to. You begin trailing kisses on her cheek and jaw, giving her all the time she needed to recover.

**

"I don't want to imagine a life without you." The first thing Hermione says once she's mustered enough energy to speak, now you can physically feel a pang in your chest.

You lift yourself up on your forearms slightly so you can properly look at her. Hermione's hair is now a mess, she looks spent from her orgasm, but she remains utterly breathtaking.

"Well you never have to worry about that because I'm not going anywhere." You respond, carefully smoothing down a few stray hairs on her head.

Your touch seemingly rattles something within her as you notice her eyes welling up with tears.

"Do you swear it?" Hermione asks, staring up at you expectantly and you sigh.

You both know now more than ever that promises are easily broken, you simply don't know which day will be your last. You can't exactly be certain that you will remain by your girlfriend's side, even though you desperately wanted to no matter what.

"Hermione–" You start but she interjects.

"Just promise that you won't leave me." Your girlfriend reiterates, and you recognized that she just needed to hear you say the words, for her own peace of mind.

"You are the reason I breathe, my love. You are my heart. Without you I am nothing." You finally admit earnestly and Hermione releases the breath she had been holding.

"I am not going anywhere." 

You manage to catch a faint smile on Hermione's lips as she pulls you into a hug.

Most of your weight is now resting on top of her, but your girlfriend makes no sound of protest.

You continue embracing her for a moment longer until you hear a knock on the bedroom door.

"Ladies, we're having lunch out here.. if you care to join us." 

You quickly recognize the voice coming from the other side to be Ron's oldest brother.

You tear your eyes away from the door to look at Hermione and the reality finally sets in that everyone sitting outside has probably been made privy to every noise between the two of you during your love making session. 

Hermione's cheeks turn a dark shade of pink while she covers her face with her hands and you merely grin in amusement.

"We'll be right there!" 

════════════════════════════════════════════

Hermione chose to settle on your lap once you were done having lunch, as it seems the events that took place at the Malfoy's affected her more than you initially realized. 

Your girlfriend doesn't wish to be apart from you. As far as she is concerned you are the only reason she didn't get seriously injured. It is uncertain what Bellatrix would've continued to do to her if you hadn't intervened, and Hermione is endlessly grateful that you didn't give her the chance to find out.

Hermione continues mindlessly fiddling with your fingers as you rest your hand on your lap. Neither of you speak, simply enjoying being in each other's company. 

The only noises are coming from the windchime by the door and the kitchen where Ron and his brother are cleaning the dishes.

Luna can be seen standing by the door admiring the view of the beach, she is the first to break the silence with actual words.

"It's beautiful here." Luna says.

You let out a chuckle.

Not one of mockery, quite the contrary; it is instead one of admiration. You admired her ability to find the beauty in the little things, considering the circumstances and even after everything she has been through.

Although you agreed, the cottage was beautiful, perhaps in a different situation you would be able to truly appreciate it, but you are certain, today without Hermione by your side, you wouldn't be able to find much beauty in anything.

You remain staring at the door where Luna stood, Hermione catches you deep in thought but she doesn't ask you about it. She reaches up to run her fingers through your hair and when you finally look at her, there's a shared regard. She feels safe in your arms, and you feel safer knowing that she doesn't plan to leave your side any more than necessary.

"This place belonged to our aunt." Bill responds, walking over to Luna once he was done washing the dishes.

Ron slips past him to take a seat opposite y/n and Hermione.

"We used to come here as kids, the Order uses it now as a safehouse–" He continues.

"What's left of it at least." Bill finishes and Luna doesn't respond but she gives him a faint nod in acknowledgement.

Silence hangs in the air once again, this time it is uncomfortable, everyone left with no choice but to feel. It is mainly anxiety, fear and exhaustion. Impending doom in every sense.

You instinctively pull Hermione closer, leaning your head against her chest. Your girlfriend reacts by rubbing at your back soothingly, before resting her chin on the top of your head.

You can hear Hermione's steady heartbeat as your ear pressed up against her chest and you find yourself silently hoping for time to stop. 

Just for a while, so you could stay like this, so you can take a breath before being forced to face the inevitable. 

As expected, time doesn't stop, instead you receive a rather grating response to such a wish when Harry emerges from the other room.

"We need to talk to the Goblin." He states, glancing at Ron, you and Hermione.

════════════════════════════════════════════

You enter the Goblin's room after Harry, immediately catching sight of Griphook sitting in an armchair by the window.

He is sitting still with his eyes shut, the sight is almost eerie, for some reason you feel compelled to intertwine your fingers with Hermione's. Your girlfriend seems glad at the gesture, she holds onto your hand firmly as she settles next to you. Ron remains next to her by the now closed door.

"How are you?" Harry breaks the silence, approaching the Goblin, and Griphook finally opens his eyes.

"Alive." He responds simply and Harry nods in understanding, making his way to the window next to him before speaking again.

Your eyes follow his movements, your gaze naturally falls on the sword propped up in the corner. It manages to also catch Harry's attention, but he fails to acknowledge it. 

"You probably don't remember–" Harry starts but the Goblin quickly finishes his thought for him.

"That I showed you to your vault the first time you came to Gringotts?" Griphook states.

"Even amongst Goblins you are famous.. Harry Potter." 

Harry fails to react to his comment, he merely glances out the window.

"You buried the elf?" Griphook asks and the dark haired man nods.

"Yes." Harry answers, his tone purposeful as to not appear solemn.

He keeps his eye contact with the Goblin again.

"And brought me here." Griphook states the obvious.

"You are a very unusual wizard." He adds and 

Harry averts his eyes again, to look at the sword, this time, it doesn't go unnoticed by the Goblin.

"How did you come by this sword?" Griphook asks, gesturing to the Gryffindor relic.

"It's complicated." Harry decides to respond vaguely, harboring a mistrust that you incidentally shared.

"Why did Bellatrix Lestrange think it should've been in her vault at Gringotts?" The chosen one tries but Griphook is not so easily deceived.

"It's complicated." Griphook retaliates and Harry glances at you instinctively, almost wordlessly asking for your permission to disclose the truth to the Goblin.

You give him a subtle nod in response as Hermione shuffles closer to you.

"Y/n was led to the sword in a time of need. We didn't steal it." Harry finally admits decisively.

Griphook looks over at you, he nearly appears amused.

"There is a sword in Madam Lestrange's vault identical to this one but it is a fake. It was placed there last summer." The Goblin explains.

You and Hermione share a knowing look, your suspicions proven right. You both already understood Snape had something to do with it.

"And she never suspected it was a fake?" Harry asks.

"The replica is very convincing. Only a Goblin would recognize that this was the true sword of Gryffindor." Griphook claims.

"Who's the acquaintance?" Hermione asks the question simply to satisfy her suspicions, for the both of you already knew the answer.

"A Hogwarts professor–" The Goblin starts.

"Snape." You interject and Griphook nods.

"As I understand it he's now Headmaster." The Goblin finishes and this time the four of you share a look.

"Snape? He put a fake sword in Bellatrix's vault, why?" Ron asks the question you and Hermione have spent countless hours in the past trying to answer.

"There are curious things at the vaults in Gringotts." Griphook responds ominously and Harry glances at you again as an idea dawns on him.

"And in Madam Lestrange's vault, as well?" He asks and the Goblin takes a beat to respond.

"Perhaps.." He finally says.

"I need to get into Gringotts, into one of the vaults." Harry starts.

"This is impossible." Griphook was quick to shut the idea down.

"Alone, yes. but with you– no." The dark haired man quips and Griphook pauses again, as if weighing his options.

"Why should I help you?" The Goblin finally asks.

"I have gold. Lots of it." Harry replies, Griphook shakes his head.

"I have no interest in gold." He states.

"Then what?" Harry asks, there is a pause before Griphook points to the sword and you let out a deep sigh.

"That. That is my prize."

The Goblin was certainly not foolish, he was dealing his cards cleverly.

Harry looks between you and Hermione, the both of you shake your head in disagreement, but the chosen one fails to listen to your advice this time.

"Fine." 

════════════════════════════════════════════

"Are you certain there's a Horcrux in Bellatrix's vault?" Hermione whispers to you as you step out of the room.

You nod, however, before you can properly respond, Harry does it for you.

"She was terrified when she thought we were in there, she kept asking what else you had taken." The dark haired boy says.

"I know there's a Hocrux in her vault– there has to be." You add with certainty.

"Let's find it and kill it and then we'll be one step closer to killing him." Harry states but Ron isn't convinced.

"And what happens if we find it? How are we supposed to destroy it now that you've given the sword to Griphook?" Ron poses a good question, one none of you could answer.

"I'm still working on that part." Harry responds with the truth.

He aims to speak again but the door opening behind him stops him from doing so.

Ron's sister in law soon emerges from the doorway, staring down at the four of you.

"He's weak." Fluer states, referring to Mr Olivander.

Harry does hesitate, but only for a beat. He enters the room anyway and the three of you follow suit. 

-

The older man is sitting in a chair by the bed, Harry has seemingly interrupted him, appearing to be deep in thought, staring into space.

You enter the room last, shutting the door behind you.

"Mr Olivander, I need to ask you a few questions." Harry asks timidly unsure if he should approach.

"Anything, my boy, anything." The wandmaker replies and Harry takes it as an invitation to take a seat next to him on the bed.

"Would you mind identifying this wand? We need to know if it's safe to use." Harry hands Olivander the wand.

The wandmaker begins inspecting it carefully, the four of you observe him with bated breath.

"Walnut. Dragon Heartstring. Twelve and three quarter inches.." The older man finally voices.

"Unyielding." He adds, as he hands the wand back to Harry.

"This belonged to Bellatrix Lestrange. Treat it carefully." The older man whispers, as if afraid the now deceased witch would be able to hear him if he dared speak any louder.

You adjust your weight from one foot to the other, shifting uncomfortably. Hermione manages to notice, feeling a similar unease herself, she makes the effort to guide your arm, snaking it around her waist as she steps closer towards you. You squeeze her side in unspoken gratitude, holding her close.

"And this?" Harry asks, pulling another wand out of his pocket.

Mr Olivander reaches out to grab it and you recognize it immediately.

"Hawthrone. Unicorn Hair. Ten inches. Reasonably pliant." The wandmaker lists out the wand's characteristics.

"That's Draco's wand." You state out loud, but the man doesn't respond, he holds up the wand to his ear, listening for something.

"This was the wand of Draco Malfoy." Olivander states and you are immediately perplexed by his choice of words.

"Was? Is it not still?" Harry asks the question you were pondering yourself.

"Perhaps not, if you won it from him." The wandmaker states and your forehead creased in further confusion.

"I sense its allegiance has changed." Olivander states simply, returning the wand to Harry.

"Sir, what does that mean exactly?" You ask, stepping forward, releasing Hermione from your grip.

The wandmaker looks up at you, a kind smile playing on his lips.

"The wand chooses the wizard, y/n."

[chickennoodlesoupjandb]

Mine now (Pansy Parkinson x reader)

Warnings: smut, public teasing & dirty talk, oral female giving/receiving, rimming

Summary: y/n is obsessed with Pansy which intrigues Pansy so she invites y/n to a party in hopes to get to know each other.

You’d zoned out and completely shifted your attention to Pansy who was sitting across the room. Every chance you’d see Pansy you’d always be mesmerised by her. Her radiant confidence and beauty is what attracts you and everyone else to her.

You’d never spoken a word to her and you’re not sure she knows your name.

Pansy turns her head to look over at you and catches you before you could look away but she gives you a quick glance before looking away. You’re sure she knows something is up by the way you’re always looking at her.

After class you meet up with some of your friends you see Pansy walking past with her Slytherin friends. A few of your friends groan when they notice her “She thinks she’s better than everyone” you stay out of the conversation.

Everywhere she walks, people move out of the way for her, most people including you are intimidated.

At lunch you sit at the Ravenclaw table waiting for your friends to arrive when someone sits beside you. You look over to see Daphne Greengrass, Pansy’s friend. You can’t lie you started to panic, did Pansy send her here to tell you to back off?

“There’s going to be a Slytherin party tomorrow night, it’s invite only and you have to have the password to get in so no friends are allowed just you.” Daphne continues to tell you the password and not to mention it to anyone. She gets up and walks away.

You were quite confused, you weren’t friends with any Slytherins which is why it doesn’t make sense you would be invited unless she mistakenly confused you for someone else.

You got ready for the party and lied to your dorm mates and said you were going on a date and not to wait up for you. You assumed Pansy would be there so you dressed up a bit and put on some makeup.

You made your way to the Slytherin common rooms and gave the password. The common room was filled with people everywhere. You walk over to grab a drink and spot Pansy in a circle of friends. You make eye contact and she looks away again.

You skull your drink and pour another one, you didn’t know anyone here well enough to hang out with so you just tried to enjoy yourself. You’d kept your eye on Pansy and finally she was alone. You felt enough confidence partly because the alcohol helped numb your anxiety.

“Hey” you say “Hi” she replies “I’ve wanted to talk to you for months but I can never seem to find you alone” “what do you want?” She asks bluntly.

You take a deep breath in “do you want to dance?” “With you?” “Yes” “then yes.” You take her hand and drag her to where everyone is dancing. You hold onto her hips as she grinds on you.

Her bum moves against your pussy and you feel yourself getting wetter as she grinds on you. Your hands don’t leave her hips until she turns to face you pressing a kiss to your jaw. She slips her hand under your skirt and rubs you over your underwear. You had to keep quiet because it was still crowded and anyone could look over.

“Fuck I can feel how wet you are” she whispers in your ear breathing heavily. Her hand quickly slips into your underwear as she rubs up and down making your legs quiver. You hold onto her tightly as you start whimpering and moaning trying to keep quiet “that’s it, tell me how bad you want me” “so much, I want your mouth and your fingers and your pussy, I want all of you.”

Pansy stops rubbing your pussy and you sneak away from the party to her dorm. She starts stripping as she gets inside and helps you out until you’re both completely naked. She lays you on the bed and starts to kiss you, if felt like a dream, her naked body pressed against yours as you kiss.

“I’ve always dreamt about this” you mumble between kisses “I’m about to make all your dreams come true.”

She pulls away and makes her way between your thighs, she presses soft kisses that turn into more passionate and hungry kisses. Her lips kiss up to your pussy and she begins to eat you out. Her tongue laps up your cunt as she tastes you. “Fuck so good.” you moan.

Pansy positions her pussy on your face as you eat her out she can give the same pleasure. Each lick of her clit, she lets out a small moan against your clit.

Her tongue moves from your pussy to your ass where she places a small kiss and her tongue teases your entrance. Her tongue swirls around rimming your hole. “So pretty” she mutters.

Both of your mouths consistently work at each other until you’re both so close. “Make me cum” Pansy demands.

You both moan against each other’s pussys as you finish. Pansy lays beside you pressing a kiss to your mouth.

“You’re mine now, I don’t do casual I do exclusive relationships” she says looking lovingly into your eyes “perfect because I don’t want anything less than that” you reciprocate the kiss to her lips.

[chickennoodlesoupjandb]

To Love A Lannister

chapter 4 | chapter 5

Sleep was hard to get by after what happened with the Starks. You couldn't even talk to Sansa about it, console her that everything would be fine from that day on. Although, you doubted it would ever be. You knew nothing you'd say would bring comfort to the girl. So you chose not to talk about it. Even you avoided spending time with her husband, Tyrion.

The less involved you were, the safer Martells were from the Lannisters' wrath.

Somehow, the devastating news made you forget that Cersei was there. And there Cersei sat in the dining hall beside her evil son and she was still as beautiful and magnificent as ever. The Lannisters hosted a celebration, of course. Robb Stark's death meant a victory for the Capital. Deep down, you knew, even Oberyn, even Ellaria, that the Martells were supporting the wrong side.

As you headed outside the castle to get some fresh air, you didn't expect to see two familiar blondes in one dark corner. Cersei and Jaime.

You had found the couple in some compromising positions before yet it didn't deter you from your advances. But right now, when you could truly see them as what they truly were, all you could feel was rage inside of you.

Although this time, Cersei seemed to be pushing off Jaime, and Jaime persisted, taking advantage of what's to be taken advantage. Then she slapped his face when he didn't listen. The next thing he did was wrap his other hand around Cersei's neck as if to strangle her. And before you could stop him, Jaime stopped, pushed Cersei against the wall and hissed at her with threats you couldn't hear. You could see how uncomfortable Cersei looked, with tears in her eyes as Jaime finally left her.

You knew then where Joffrey had gotten most of his traits.

"He doesn't deserve you, Your Grace," you said, making your presence known. Cersei quickly wiped her tears with her hand.

"What are you talking about?"

"Ser Jaime," you replied, damn getting killed.

"What are you implying?" she hissed, nostrils flaring.

"I know the truth, Your Grace."

"You know nothing. You're just a lady from a foreign land who thought having a cock would give you a right to involve with such affairs!" Cersei spat. "Do not speak ill about this. I could give orders that would lead to your death-"

"Why haven't you, Your Grace? You've been making empty threats since the time I've annoyed you."

Cersei was fuming but you stood your guard. "Leave!"

You quickly bowed before leaving.

It wasn't the last time you saw the siblings' interaction. You wanted to fight for her. You wanted to save her. You wanted to protect her from Jaime. But how could you save someone who doesn't want to be saved?

You walked past Cersei crying one night. If walls could only talk, they'd mention how Jaime had abused and hurt the Queen and the Queen only let him. The moment she saw you, she quickly wiped away her tears.

You walked past her, deciding whether to get involved or not. But you paused and sighed, you couldn't just leave her alone. Not while looking like that.

Cersei glared at you when you approached her but her composure softened when you offered your handkerchief to her. Surprisingly, she accepted it after a moment of hesitation.

Then you walked away, knowing that staying would only trigger her anger.

It wasn't only Jaime who had seemed to always step on her. There was also her son Joffrey, of course. And her father Tywin, who seemed to always put pressure on her every now and then. Sometimes, you caught her holding off a snarky comment against her father's wishes when you dine with them at nights. But would then eventually and reluctantly agree to her father's demands as if she was the perfect daughter.

Although you knew she was far from it.

~~~

"I thought you were going to be engaged with that girl from Riverrun, what was her name?" Margaery asked you. Avoiding the Lannisters meant spending time with the Tyrells.

"I can't remember," you answered, chuckling, making Margaery laugh. "I swear father has been insisting for me to marry. And that I should do it soon."

"Well, I hope you'd meet someone special one day," she said. "It's quite sad growing old alone you know. Plus, it'd be amazing if there'd be kids around to take care of."

Smiling sadly, you couldn't help but worry about Margaery's future with Joffrey. You knew it wouldn't be a happy ever after kind of ending.

"Lady Margaery," you began. "I didn't mean to pry. But. . . there are times when we are conflicted on our own actions just to obtain that power you don't even need in the first place."

Margaery only fell silent as she sliced through the piece of steak before her.

"The King . . . strikes me as someone . . . you are not meant to grow old up with-"

"I know what I'm doing, Lady Y/n-"

"Do you? Does your grandmother Olenna know how cruel the King could be without him even trying? You know you don't have to marry him. You have a choice-"

"In a fortnight, I'm going to be a Queen and Joffrey will be my King."

You sighed. "Well wishes to you then, My Lady."

You decided to change the topic to eradicate the awkward silence.

~~~

It was some time later that night, when a knight had knocked on the door of your chambers. Thankfully, it wasn't Jaime.

"The Queen Regent would like to see you in her chambers, My Lady."

You took time to get dressed, thinking over whether you need to send a message to Oberyn or not. This could be the last time you'd be able to breathe.

Somehow, what little courage left inside of you brought you to Cersei's chambers that night.

You were left alone by the Knight, closing the door when you were inside the room.

The moment it was closed, Cersei in her white underdress and with her golden hair down, approached you. The glow from the candlelight in her room illuminated the Queen like a Goddess.

"You wish to see me, Your Grace?" you greeted.

A slap. The force rendered your face to turn to the side, the sting of the skin reverberated through your entire skull.

Confusion and hurt filled you as you controlled your temper.

There was only silence before she walked away.

"Sit," Cersei ordered.

And you didn't know if she meant the bed in the center of the room but then she slipped down her underdress, revealing her naked marvelous skin, and you had lost any coherent thoughts in your head.

Tales of her beauty were truly not exaggerated.

"Your Grace." You bowed your head to the floor, avoiding to look at her.

"I said sit!"

And you obediently walked towards the edge of her bed and sat.

Cersei immediately straddled you, pulling your chin to meet her gaze. And you could see right through her eyes something odd, something different, something innocent hidden under a mask.

She smelled of flowers - soft, delicate and powdery. And you felt your cheeks warm as your eyes quickly caught the sight of her nipples, all hard and rosy like unripe cherries.

Her eyes darted all over your face down to your waiting lips, her forefinger tracing from your cheek down to the outline of your jaw, thumb brushing over your lower lip, as if mesmerized by you.

And just in an instant, Cersei pushed you down on the bed harshly. She then began crawling until you could see her beautiful cunt, all slick, flushed and ready for you.

"Cersei. . ."

She fisted your hair, making you grunt. "You don't get to call me that."

"Yes, Your Grace."

"Now, pleasure me," she demanded.

And you did as you were told.

Cersei let out a rather loud moan you didn't think you'd be able to hear. The sound awakened something carnal inside of you and you longed to hear more of it. She arched her back the moment your tongue touched her center, licking your way from her slit up to her aching bud. She almost lost her composure, her eyes shutting close as she began a slow grind on your face.

She could have killed you right there. For all you knew, she meant for you to run out of air to breathe. But alas, it would be a beautiful way to die.

You breathed her in. You drank her sweet nectar like you were a deprived beggar. You held her thighs firmly but gently as she squeezed her thighs around your head, her moans and whimpers filling the entire room.

The bed squeaked as the Queen moved with fervor. You could see how her perky breasts bounce with every movement and you moaned from the view.

Her movements became sloppy yet eager as she finally let go of your hair, her hand grasping the sheets of her bed instead, the other on the wooden headboard before her.

You thought she was mindlessly moaning, realizing she was muttering a name. Your name.

Feeling more slick coming down your mouth, you held up your tongue into her center and encouraged her to grind against it. You could see how the action affected her, her eyes shut tight and her mouth agape as she stiffened before her movements trembled.

"Y/n!"

And how amazing it was to finally hear her scream your name as she convulsed and came into your mouth, her other hand on your head again, as if terrified you'd stop and leave her hanging.

"Seven hells," she panted, chuckling breathlessly, as she slowly crawled down and climbed off you.

"See yourself out," Cersei ordered as she wore back her underdress and walked towards the table to take a glass of wine.

You were mad. You were confused. And worse, you were aroused. Incredibly aroused. It took you longer than necessary to gather your bearings and walk yourself to the door.

With your hand at the knob, you turned around to argue.

"That's it? I'm just some experiment for you to try?"

"What did you expect?" she asked.

You fell silent.

"That you would get to marry me?" she went on, her sadistic voice present. "I know, Y/n. I've seen you looked at me. And when I didn't reciprocate, you went after Margaery."

"I-"

"Don't fuss on explaining yourself. If power is what you want, this is not the place to look."

"I'm not after you being Queen!" you argued exasperatedly.

"Really? Because that's what anyone is always after."

"I. . . I adore you," you confessed silently. "I do adore you."

Cersei stiffened.

"I adore you not as a Queen but as someone who is kind inside but is too afraid to show it because you think it'd be seen weak, someone who cherishes her children no matter what kind of monster they are. As someone who puts the Kingdom first-"

"You think flattery will get you somewhere?"

You sighed. "It's not flattery. It's a fact."

Cersei exhaled as she placed the glass on top of the table. "Then I believe it wouldn't be hard for you to hear that what happened earlier is nothing more than just a one time thing. Do you think I'd ever have feelings for someone like you?"

"Someone like me?"

Cersei smiled, knowing she had hit a nerve.

There was silence after that.

You swallowed a lump in your threat, tasting the reminiscence of Cersei.

"Have a good night, Your Grace," was all you could reply.

You could see Cersei stiffen, her face suddenly looking concerned, conflicted, as if not expecting you to surrender that easily, expecting you to counter back at her. Maybe she hadn't realized how insulting her words were.

You bowed then immediately left her room.

[chickennoodlesoupjandb]

Renee Rapp as Leighton Murray

Sex lives of college girls 2021 -

[chickennoodlesoupjandb]

Best Friend's Mom Part Four

MILF!Wanda Maximoff x college age!fem!reader (Billy and Tommy's best friend)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Word count: 5.5k

CW: Age gap (legal), best friends' mom, MILF!Wanda, fluff, mentions of food, angst, smut, cursing

Summary: You've finally confessed your feelings to Wanda. Will she reciprocate them? If so, what happens next? And what'll happen if she rejects you? Anything could happen.

A/n: Fourth and FINAL part is here! (I lowkey wrote most of this today so I hope it's good lol!) Anywho, I'd just like to thank y'all for loving this story as much as I have. And, if you're sad that it's over, never fear! Because of all your love and support, I've decided to do something special that you can check out here. Happy reading!

“Well, do you?”

The question hangs in the air between you and time has completely stopped. You hold your breath and your heart beats so rapidly in your chest that you’re certain Wanda can hear it. 

Your instincts tell you to run, to avoid what you fear most.

Rejection. 

But for once, you’re brave. You stay put and hold eye contact with Wanda. It’s her that breaks first. 

“My simple answer is yes.”

All of the air rushes back into your lungs and you dispel a long sigh of relief.

“But,” she adds, “I’m hesitant to say anything else because we both know that nothing about this situation is simple.”

You nod, and this time your sigh is a little more dejected. 

“Yeah, I know.”

You pull your knees up to your chest and wrap your arms around your legs, “It sucks. This whole situation is shitty. If only you weren’t my best friends’ mom, and I wasn’t in college, and we didn’t have to hide.”

The silence is thick, weighty with the words left unsaid- the words that neither of you want to vocalize. To vocalize them would be to admit to reality, and the small glimmer of hope still left would be shattered. To put it all into words would also force you to call this thing between you and Wanda what it is- a fling. A word that, right now, disgusts you to your core. A fling- the concept and word itself so casual when nothing about what’s happened between you two has been casual at all. You and Wanda had not casually fucked, casually cuddled, or casually made out. In every interaction with Wanda, there was always something deeper simmering just below the surface. There was an understanding of each other’s lives and struggles, tenderness, only found in a familiarity by association, and a deep love for each other, not even in the romantic sense, though you guess a hint of that existed as well, but in a sense of gratitude. Your shared compassion for the twins, and the undoubted affect you’d each had on them brought you two together in an indescribable way. Though you hadn’t known it yet, you and Wanda’s souls had been intertwined by destiny, forever attached by the two who brought you together in the first place. 

Therefore, to treat this connection between you two as so much less than it deserves makes you not just just angry or sad but bitter. Nothing about it is fair. You deserve more, sure, but it’s Wanda that deserves everything good. After all that she’s been through, she’s maintained a heart of gold, and your heart aches to know the pain she’s being put through yet again.

But you can’t hide forever, and Wanda finally admits what you can’t. Won’t. 

“I think,” Wanda says, hesitating, “that we have to accept that this is as good as it gets.”

It stings, Wanda’s confession, the truth smacking you square in the face. Housed within these walls is a beautiful utopia that you and Wanda have escaped to. It’s been sweet, and raw, and vulnerable, and now it’s all crumbling down. In no world would you and Wanda ever have been able to be together in the way you both wanted. There were the boys to think of, and your future, and the life Wanda had created for herself. Neither of you wanted to risk the happiness of the other for a potential shared happiness. 

“I’m afraid that if we tried to continue what we have going now, everything would fall apart, and I’d come to resent you. And I don’t want that, Detka. For me, or you, or Billy and Tommy,” Wanda adds softly, “So let’s just enjoy this while we have it, and make the most of our time left.”

Tears sting your eyes and so much pressure has built in your throat that you can’t speak. You only nod at Wanda and her gaze, somehow, softens even more. 

“Baby,” she whispers hoarsely. In seconds she’s pulled you into her arms, wrapping you so tightly in her warm embrace that you couldn’t move even if you wanted to. You nuzzle your face into her neck and try to take deep breaths, hoping that her scent will calm the raging storm in your head. She rocks the two of you back and forth slowly, and you can’t tell if it’s more for her or for you. 

“Wanda,” you call out, and your voice cracks pitifully.

“Shhh, don’t” the redhead answers, her voice similarly thick with emotion. 

You bury your hands in her shirt and grip it tightly, trying to hold on to something when everything else around you is slipping away. Despite your best efforts, you can’t stop the sob that racks your body. 

Wanda doesn’t say anything, she just presses a tender kiss to your head. And when you feel a few teardrops fall onto your hair, you don’t mention it. 

“I know it’d be hard, but what do you think about pretending, for just a little longer? I mean, we’ve been doing it this long, so what’s one more day?” she murmurs into your hair. 

You pull away a little, craning your neck up towards Wanda with wide, tear-brimmed eyes, “Yeah, yes. Please. I’d really like that.”

She smiles fondly at you, “Good. Now let’s wipe away these tears.”

She ever so gently untangles an arm from around you and thumbs away the residual wetness on your cheeks, “There we go, all better.”

Her hand traces down your cheek and cups your jaw. She pulls you in and places a tender kiss to your lips. It’s sweet and tastes a little of the salty tears you’d both just shed. Instead of the hot spark that usually shoots through your body when you kiss Wanda, an overall warmth spreads through your body from your head all the way down to your toes. It makes your stomach ache, not with sadness but rather an all consuming happiness. You’re sure that any moment you’ll burst into a kaleidoscope of butterflies. 

*****

The last day and a half of your spring break trip is bittersweet. Though you try to stay present, any time Wanda is around you can’t help but think about how each interaction with her may be your last- your last kiss, your last secret glance, or your last inside joke. To know that the end of something is coming before it ever actually happens is maddening, and you swear that you can hear a clock slowly ticking down to zero as each minute passes. Around the boys especially you don a mask of joviality even though internally you’re floundering. As you go about your day there’s a perpetual ache in your chest and a lump that never seems to leave your throat. 

Maybe it’s because you’re desperate to slow down, or maybe it’s because you’re so caught up in your head that it passes quickly, but before you know it, time has slipped through your fingers and it’s already Friday evening. It’s late, and the boys are off in their room packing their bags. Desperate to hold on to the last little bit of your trip left, you decide to leave the packing for tomorrow morning and instead lay on the couch listlessly scrolling through channels on tv. You can’t help wondering where Wanda has wandered off to, but you know that if you go looking for her, you’ll only end up in a puddle of tears. 

At some point in your scrolling you end up on an old sitcom- The Dick Van Dyke Show. You’ve never really watched it before, but something about it instantly catches your attention. The simplicity and domesticity of it all soothes you and your brain finally begins to quiet down. 

“Did you know that was my favorite show as a kid?” 

You look up at Wanda in her long gray tee shirt and leggings, hair pulled back into a low pony, “Really?”

She joins you, sitting on the arm of the couch, “Mhmm. When things would get bad back home in Sokovia, my mom and dad would always put on old sitcom tapes to distract my brother and I. I liked all the ones they showed me, but The Dick Van Dyke Show was always my favorite. Still is.”

A warm smile graces Wanda’s pretty features as she reminisces to you about her childhood and your heart feels so full that she’s chosen to share parts of herself with you. 

“I’ve actually never seen it,” you say, “but I just came across it now, and I instantly felt…”

“Calmer?”

“Mhmm.”

You both silently watch the show for a few minutes, and though you’re tempted, you don’t once glance at Wanda. It’s a true demonstration of your willpower because Wanda is so, so tempting. You desperately wish to pull her closer, to hold her, touch her, and kiss her. But if you let yourself give in, you’re not sure you’ll be able to stop. Being around Wanda is addicting and you long to taste her over and over again, to get drunk on her, even if you’re bound to waste away after. 

You’re so lost in your own head that you don’t notice Wanda slowly slipping off the arm of the couch onto the seat next to you. It’s only when she basically crawls into your lap that you look away from the tv, startled. She’s on her knees, legs tucked beneath her, and she rests her hands on your thighs. Her face is so incredibly close to yours that with even the slightest movement, your lips would touch.

Her green eyes search yours intently, “Detka, I was thinking…”

She pauses, and you can’t help but quickly peck her lips to encourage her to keep talking. The embarrassed smile that forms on her face also makes you scream internally. 

“I’d really like to take you out on a date, baby. Just one. Before everything… ends.”

You squeal quietly and jump onto her, knocking her backwards onto the couch. You pepper kisses all over her face and she grabs your hips, giggling quietly. 

“I’ll take that as a yes?”

“Oh my god Wanda, duh!”

And then more quietly and seriously you say, “I’d really, really like that.”

A hand moves from your waist to the back of your head and she guides you to her lips, kissing you sweetly. You suck gently on her bottom lip and try to ingrain into your mind the pretty little sighs she releases. When you pull away, you watch as her long eyelashes flutter open and admire the soft look in her green eyes. 

She squeezes your side playfully, “let’s go Detka, we have a date to go on.”

You sit back on your heels to give Wanda room to sit up, “where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise. Now go get your shoes.”

You obey her immediately, plopping down onto the hardwood and slipping on your tennis shoes. When you’re ready to go, she grabs her keys off the kitchen table and quietly ushers you out to her small black sedan. You’ve yet to ride in Wanda’s car, the boys usually driving, and it’s nice. With black leather seats and wood trimming, you feel like you’re living in luxury. The car, somehow, smells like her too, and you feel blissfully pampered and mindless strapped into the passenger seat of her car. 

She starts the car and rolls down the windows. You pull out of the driveway and speed off down the coastal highway, the radio softly playing in the background. The air is warm, but the wind is cool on your skin and you can smell the salt in the air. Your hair whips around wildly in the breeze, and you know that it’ll look a mess the rest of the night, but you can’t find it in you to care. Though you still have no idea where Wanda is taking you, by the direction you’re going you can at least guess that it’ll be somewhere in town.

While you’d be happy to go anywhere with Wanda, you’re extra thrilled when she pulls up to the local ice cream shop. Your sweet tooth aches with excitement and you quickly unbuckle your seatbelt. You go to open your door but Wanda reaches out to stop you, “Wait! I wanna get it for you.”

Heat rises to your cheeks and you’re so awestruck by how sweet and wonderful she is. She hops out of the car and comes around to your side, opening the door for you. When you climb out you give her a peck on the cheek, “what a lady you are, Wanda. I guess chivalry isn’t dead.”

The redhead wraps her arm around your waist and tucks you into her side. It’s the most public you two have ever been and the thrill secretly excites you. 

She presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, “You deserve only the best, Detka. I hope you always know that.”

She’s being too sweet to you, and it’s making you all shy, so you tuck your head further into her side to hide your face. She chuckles lightly and squeezes your waist, guiding you two over to the counter to order. 

Wanda orders two scoops of strawberry ice cream in a cup and you do the same, though with chocolate ice cream. All of the seating at the shop is outdoors, so you two find a table off to the side in a secluded corner. You cuddle up on one bench, legs tangled together and shoulders touching. The treat is sweet on your tongue and you moan softly at the taste.

“Good?” Wanda asks in between bites of her own ice cream.

You nod, “Very. Yours?”

She scoops a bit of the ice cream onto her spoon and lifts it towards you, “try?”

You eagerly accept her invitation and wrap your lips around the spoon. It’s tangier than your chocolate, but still good. You swirl it around your tongue, savoring the flavor as Wanda watches you with curious eyes.

“Mhmm, I like that too. Still prefer mine though,” you say with a small smile. 

“Well good, because you’re not getting any more of mine anyways,” the redhead answers with a wink. 

You roll your eyes teasingly and happily take another bite of your own ice cream.

“Oh, wait? Do you want to try mine?”

Before you can offer Wanda a spoonful of the chocolate, she reaches out and swipes her thumb across your lips. When she pulls away there’s a little chocolate on her skin and she slowly sucks it off, “Mhmm, tastes good, baby.”

This alone causes your brain to turn to mush and so you just stare at her, lips slightly parted and cheeks flushed. 

Wanda doesn’t attempt to hide her smirk at your dumbfounded expression, “love when you get all dazed and pretty like this, Detka.”

Your gaze drops to your ice cream and you mumble about how she’s a tease. 

She lifts your chin so that you look at her again, “You know you love it.”

“Not when we’re in public!”

Wanda hesitates for a moment, the wheels in her brain turning, before she asks, “wanna go make strawberry-chocolate ice cream in the car?”

*****

You're outside the door to the house and you and Wanda are giggling like schoolgirls as she fumbles with the keys. 

“Shhh, Wanda, be careful. We don’t want to get caught!”

“Sorry, I just can’t get my hands to work,” she answers, giggling again. 

You grab her hands and still them, looking at her gently, “here, let me do it.”

You take the keys from her and easily insert it into the lock. It clicks open softly and you motion for Wanda to go inside first, you following close behind her. Wanda stands by the door slipping off her shoes and grabs your shoulder as she nearly falls over. You grab her waist, steadying her, “careful, love.”

She smiles at you sheepishly while she casts her other shoe aside and you take a moment to admire her windblown cheeks and messy hair. You brush a strand behind her ear and her eyes flutter close at your touch.

“What the hell are you two doing?”

You and Wanda freeze, and a rock settles in your stomach. When you turn around, there stands Billy and Tommy in the living room, mixed expressions of confusion, anger, disbelief and betrayal written all over their faces. 

“Guys, it’s-” you begin, your voice shaking.

“Not what it looks like?” Billy scoffs, “because it looks like you can’t keep your hands off my mom.”

“Billy, wait,”

“Tell us what the fuck is going on right now,” Tommy interrupts. 

You barely spare Wanda a glance as you make your way into the living room. She hesitantly follows behind you. 

“Uhm me and Wan- your mom- we’ve been…” 

What are you supposed to call this thing you and Wanda have been doing?

“Seeing each other,” she finishes. 

Billy eyes you two’s disheveled appearances with disgust, “seems more like you’ve been fucking each other!”

“Billy!” Wanda says sharply.

“What, Mom? I’m gonna call it as I see it, since you two don’t seem inclined to tell the truth.”

You can already feel your lip beginning to quiver but you ignore it, “That’s not fair. Please, just listen for a second.”

“Not fair?!” Tommy protests, “What I think is unfair is that my mom and best friend have been lying to my face so that they can sneak around and fuck. I mean, god. That’s disgusting. Mom- she’s our best friend and you,” he points his finger aggressively towards you, “going after our mom? That’s really fucking shitty.”

A tear unwillingly escapes your eye, “But it wasn’t- it’s not like that. I didn’t intend for it to happen. It just did.”

“So you just fell into each other’s beds?” Billy asks, sarcasm thick in his voice. 

“That’s not what she means, Billy,” Wanda answers solemnly. 

“What she means is that it all just happened so suddenly, so organically. We were just drawn to each other, and that’s not in our control.”

“But your actions are. You could’ve resisted. Instead, you were selfish.” 

You’re entirely sympathetic to the twins’ pain and anger. This comment, however, riles you from your sorrowful stupor. 

“Selfish? You’re calling us selfish? You don’t even know what you’re talking about, Billy! Wanda and I have done nothing but think about you both the entire time. You want to know what we did yesterday? We decided to completely end things after this trip because we wanted to protect you two from our dumb decisions. Wanda and I agreed that even though we both have feelings for each other, your lives and feelings are far more important. This is one of the first really good things that’s happened to both of us in a really long time, and we gave it up for you. So you can sit here and call us stupid, or liars, or traitors, but don’t sit here and call us selfish.”

After your outburst, the room goes completely and utterly silent. Your panting hard and your hands are shaking as you watch so many emotions play out on your best friends’ faces. You glance at Wanda and the sight before you breaks your heart. At this moment, she looks so totally and utterly miserable. Silent tears are streaming down her face and her eyes dart anxiously between her two boys. Guilt pools in your stomach and you can’t help but feel that everything is your fault. Had you never been a part of their lives, nothing would be ruined and Wanda, Billy, and Tommy could’ve been a perfect, happy little family.

You sigh heavily and look at the three people you care about most, “Look, I’m sorry. I-”

“Just, stop talking,” Tommy says, interrupting you again, though this time his voice is a little less harsh.

“You, you said that you have feelings for my mom?”

“Yeah, yeah” you answer, vigorously nodding, “I care about her so much.”

Billy looks at Wanda hesitantly, “And you feel the same way?”

Although she’d just confessed her feelings yesterday, a small part of you fears that she’s changed her mind, or maybe even lied. You chew on your lip anxiously, awaiting her response with bated breath. 

Instead of answering Billy and Tommy directly, she turns and looks straight at you, “Yes. I’ve never been more certain about anything in my life.”

You know your eyes are shining thick with tears and you give her a great big wobbly smile. 

Billy sighs, rubbing his face roughly, “And you make each other happy?”

Simultaneously you and Wanda answer yes. 

“Then who are we to get in your way?” Tommy replies, shaking his head.

You gasp quietly and turn towards the twins, hope bubbling up in your chest. They still don’t look totally okay, but the small, tired smiles on each of their faces tells you that they will be in time.

Wanda makes the first move, walking towards them both and cupping each of their faces, “You really mean it moya lubov? Because I stand by what I said, the happiness of you two will always be the most important thing to me.”

Any residual tension in the faces of your two friends fade under their mother’s touch.

“Yeah, mom. We mean it. We just want you to be happy.”

Tommy looks at you then and raises his eyebrows sternly, “And I swear to god, if you hurt her.”

You let out a watery chuckle, “I won’t. I promise.”

“And you,” Billy says, looking to his mom, “if you hurt her?”

Wanda turns and looks at you softly, “I could never.”

Then at the same time Billy and Tommy say, “okay.”

*****

When everything has settled, you and Wanda find yourselves alone yet again. Though there’s still so much new ground to navigate between you, Wanda, and the boys, you can’t ignore the unbridled happiness overwhelming your senses. You and Wanda look at each other with the biggest, goofiest smiles on your faces and you jump into her arms.

Reminded once again how strong she is, Wanda catches you easily and you wrap your legs around her waist. She presses a heated kiss to your lips and you encourage her, arms circling her neck. Somehow while still kissing you, she makes her way down the hall to her room. When she steps inside she kicks the door closed and carries you to the bed. Wanda throws you down on your back gently and then climbs on top of you. She kisses you a few times on the lips, and then the neck, before trailing her hands lower to the hem of your shirt. She makes eye contact with you, seemingly asking if she can take it off, and you nod aggressively. She chuckles lowly and grabs your shirt. You stick your arms out as she pulls it over your head and tosses it somewhere across the room. You shiver, and you’re not sure if it’s from the cold air, Wanda’s gaze, or her burning touch across your stomach- probably all three. 

“So beautiful, baby,” she mumbles, placing kisses at your collarbone and then slowly trailing down to the valley of your breasts.

You moan at her featherlight touches, but you still need more. Wanda seems to read your mind as she slides her hands underneath you and unclips your bra. Your nipples are hard from arousal and the cold air and Wanda moans at the sight. She surges forward and takes your left nipple into her mouth, sucking softly at the bud and letting her tongue roll casually over it. Her hand stimulates your other tit, groping and pinching it lightly. She alternates, so that both get their fair share. When she pulls away she plants a kiss on your panting lips before moving downward to the lower half of your body. She pushes your knees up, so that your feet lay flat on the bed, and your legs spread for her. You look down at her, her eyes full of lust and cleavage on display as she bends towards your pussy, and you moan. She places kisses and bites across your calves and then thighs before tugging off your shorts and then grabbing your underwear, pulling it tantalizingly slow down your legs. 

All of it’s painfully hot, and you're desperate to tell Wanda to move faster- but you know better than to rush her.

Wanda gasps as she throws your panties aside and eyes your pink, glistening folds, “such a pretty pussy, and all for me.”

You hum, “yes, only you Wanda.”

“Good,” she answers, patting your thigh. She moves back up your body and kisses you, though  one hand travels down between your thighs. Lightly, she places pressure on your clit and rubs slow, soft circles. The only way to describe the sensation is white, hot pleasure and you cry out- luckily into her mouth. As her mouth migrates down your body, so do her fingers. They dip into your outer folds and tease your hole with your gathered wetness. As she sucks on your nipple yet again, one finger slides slowly into you and you let out a loud moan, “Oh Wanda, that- that feels so good. Please.”

“You’re doing so good for me Detka”, Wanda praises, “So tight and warm.”

“Th- thank you Wanda. Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you repeat as she thrusts her finger in and out of you slowly. 

Wanda then inserts a second finger, stretching you wider. It’s a little painful, but it feels so good you don’t mind.

As you writhe in pleasure, you watch Wanda. Her long, red hair falls over her shoulder as she bends down to suck a hickey onto your neck. Her face is flushed and her green eyes are lust-blown. As Wanda’s hand continues to pound into you, you reach out and pull Wanda away from your neck. 

“Wanna touch you Wanda,” you say breathlessly. You pull her in and kiss her lips roughly again. One hand stays in her hair and tugs at her red locks while the other wanders down to grope her tits. She moans into your mouth and her fingers falter for a second at your touch. As you continue your ministrations on her clothed breasts, Wanda adds a third finger and you nearly see stars. Desperate for her own release, she begins to hump your thigh as she fingers you. Observing her pleasure nearly sends you over the edge. 

You beg Wanda to stop for just a moment so that you can slip off her shirt. You unclasp her bra and grunt at the sight of her naked tits. Wanda continues to pound into you and your legs tighten around her hand. As she humps your leg, you watch her beautiful tits bounce and the way her head is thrown back in a fit of pleasure. The image of Wanda before you sends you over the edge, finally, and your stomach muscles clench. You cry out loudly and moan Wanda’s name over and over as you finally come. Your body shakes with pleasure and you really do see stars this time. When you come down from your high, you are panting heavily. Wanda is still chasing her own, and you can tell she’s getting close. You grip her hips and stop her, “Don’t want you to cum on my thigh, Wanda.”

Suddenly, you flip her onto her back and straddle her.

“Drawer, Detka, look in my drawer,” Wanda breathes out desperately. You reach over her and open the top drawer on the left. Inside is a pink strap-on.

“You want me to use this, Wanda?” You ask seriously. 

“Please, please fuck me baby,” she answers huskily. 

You stand from the bed, Wanda groaning at the loss of your touch, as you step into the harness and tighten it against your skin so that it bumps your clit a little. When you crawl back onto the bed, you grab the hem of Wanda’s pants and yank them down. Then, you grab her lacy black underwear and pull that down too, revealing her pussy to you. You moan loudly and instantly surge forward, licking a line up her slit. She tastes so sweet, and you want to eat her out so badly, but you decide to save that for later. 

“Please, Detka. Don’t tease me,” Wanda orders. 

You nod and do as she says. You line the tip of the dildo up to her entrance and tease her folds. She moans softly and grabs your waist. Then, slowly, you slide inside her. She’s wet enough that there’s not much resistance, and when your hips meet hers you pause. 

Wanda sighs out, “So big. Feels so good, baby. So full of you.”

“Anything for you Wanda. Your pretty pussy deserves everything,” you whisper in her ear as you thrust your hips for the first time. The squeal she lets out sends you into a frenzy, and quickly you are pounding into Wanda at a rapid pace. She’s only letting out a series of moans, whines and squeals and it’s so incredibly hot. You suck on one of her nipples and play with the other till she is writhing underneath you. When you get her close, you move down a little and throw her legs over your shoulders, allowing you to lift her hips off the bed and drill into her at a deeper angle. You know you’ve found her g-spot by the way she lets out long, loud moans, and you muffle her mouth with your lips so that Billy and Tommy don’t hear. With one final thrust, Wanda’s eyes roll into the back of her head and her back arches into you, tits touching. The moans of your name light a fire in your stomach, and the added stimulation of the strap on your throbbing clit sends you over the edge a second time. You both cum together before slowly coming down from your high. You’re left panting as you collapse on top of her, the dildo still inside.

As you start to recover, Wanda slowly starts stroking your sweaty hair away from your face. You smile against her chest and place a soft kiss there. 

“That was really good, Wanda. Thank you.”

Wanda only lifts your chin and smiles at you before she locks your lips in another kiss- this time more sweet and tender. 

*****

The time you’d been dreading the entire week- saying goodbye- has finally arrived. While it once left you sick with dread, now it doesn’t seem so bad. The fact that you and Wanda aren’t saying goodbye forever certainly helps. Wanda’s in the kitchen sweeping out the sand and you and the twins are packing up their car with your bags. You were nervous this morning that they’d act weird around you now that you’re with Wanda, but they’ve been fairly normal besides the occasional dark jokes here or there. 

When the last of your stuff is loaded into the car, the three of you make your way back into the house. 

“Mom? Want us to take your bags out to your car?” Tommy asks, swiping a banana off the counter. 

She smiles sweetly at him, “yes, please. Thank you.”

You give Wanda a wink and begin to follow after the boys when she calls out, “wait, Detka. I need your help.”

Billy mockingly gags and you roll your eyes at him before trotting obediently back to Wanda. 

“What’d you need help with?” You ask her eagerly.

She peers over your shoulder, making sure the boys aren’t in sight, and then grabs you by the shirt, pulling you in for a kiss. 

You can’t help but smile against her lips, and when you pull away you chuckle.

“Was that it?”

She hums contentedly, “though I think I need one more for good measure.”

“I’m here to serve,” you tell her teasingly, kissing her again. 

“Nope! No! Okay, that’s enough you two,” Tommy declares as he comes back into the kitchen, “Jesus, I’m gonna throw up.”

You both have the decency to look sheepish and say, “sorry!”

He sighs, feigning annoyance, “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Now come on, we gotta get back to school.”

Billy joins you all in the kitchen, “Yep, we gotta go, so no more public indecency, please.”

You snort a little and slap his arm lightly, “shut up.”

He gives you a pointed look and then goes up to hug Wanda, “Bye Mom. I’ll call you next week, okay?”

She hugs him tightly and kisses him tenderly on the forehead before taking Tommy into her arms, “Goodbye, moya lubov.”

Then she says to both of them, “You let me know when you get back safe. I love you!”

“Love you too,” they both say at the same time, heading towards the door.

Tommy looks at you, “you coming?”

You nod, “Yep, be right out in a second.”

When they’re gone you don’t say anything to Wanda, you just pull her into a tight embrace. 

“We’ll see each other soon, okay?” she tells you.

You pull away and admire her pretty features one final time before you have to say goodbye.

“Okay, Wanda. I’ll see you soon.”

She smiles warmly at you and kisses goodbye, but not, you happily note, for forever.

************************************************************************

Tag list: @xenaizogie @alexawynters @eclipse727 @idkwhatever580 @opp-jumpscare @starynn @alessiaswifey @noturlondonboy @chickenlittlsblog @lizzieolsen89 @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @wandasdove @unity-rae @traveler-at-heart @wandasreallover

[chickennoodlesoupjandb]

Masterlist

Updated: May 4, 2024 (Happy Star Wars Day)

Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader

Fake Memories (Long Series Completed)

After Y/n is caught cheating on Wanda with Carol, Y/n would do just about anything to get Wanda back into her life. But was it even Y/n’s fault that she cheated? Or was it the new enemy set on revenge?

Amnesia (Hiatus)

After Wanda and Y/n get into a huge argument over Wanda’s late husband, Vision, the two take a couple of hours to cool off. They fall asleep still mad at each other. However, after Wanda wakes up ready to apologize, she wakes up not to Y/n’s face but Visions. How is Vision still alive? What happened to Y/n? What will happen to Wanda as she walks through a reality where Vision is still alive? What will she do when she realizes that isn’t due to her magic? What will happen to her and Y/n? 

Prom Series (Mini-Series Completed)

Prom season is coming around for Avalon High and Y/n could not be any more annoyed. Not only is she trying her best to work up the courage to ask her best friend, Wanda Maximoff, out, she also has to compete against everyone else that seems to want her as well. Will Y/n build enough courage to finally ask Wanda out? Will Wanda get a date before Y/n does ask? Will Y/n go to prom alone? Read to find out. 

Her Secret  (Mini-Series Completed)

It’s never easy being Wanda’s secret, but Y/n could care less, or at least that’s what she tells herself. But senior year is ending. Y/n is tired of hiding. Wanda is tired of Y/n asking. Will the two actually become a couple before graduation? Or will there be goodbyes as they part for college?

My Rival (Mini-Series Ongoing) 

“I hate Wanda Maximoff. I hate her face and the way she hides her freckles. I hate her smile and how perfect she laughs. I hate how smart she is and how she knows everything. I hate her.” Y/n complained.

But how could she hate the girl that always took #1 in everything? How could she hate the girl that captivated her mind 24/7? How could she hate the girl she would willingly be #2 for?

Or the time where Y/n Y/l/n and Wanda Maximoff were academic rivals that fell for each other.

“If you could love me again, I could let go of everything.” (Hiatus)

“They were the right person but wrong time,” Natasha said as she spoke about Y/n and Wanda. But as the two spent time apart and the Avengers were needing new leaders, Natasha could only hope that this was finally the right time for her two favorite people.

Favorite Crime (Hiatus)

Y/n L/n, daughter of the villainous group, “The Gisbourne”. They’re known to do the cruelest things around the world in order to get what they want. In order to stray away from her family, Y/n is the founder and sole member of the vigilante group, “The Robins”. She does what she can in order to assist those in need of help in New York City.

However, what happens when the Avengers are tasked with finally defeating the Gisbournes? What happens when they use their newest member, Wanda Maximoff, to get to the black sheep of the family? What happens if they both fall in love? But what if it was all a mission to Wanda? 

Insecurities (One Shot)

College AU! Wanda and Y/n have a fight outside of a frat house all because of him.

Now You Know (One Shot) 

It’s Wanda’s wedding day, so where are you?

Lost in the Universe (Part One) | (Part Two) 

Y/n is transported to a different universe and by chance,  meets the Wanda that inhabits it.

The Actress & The Geek (One Shot)

A late night practice causes Y/n and Wanda to confess their feelings.

Give Me Another Chance (One Shot) 

The five times Y/n asks Wanda to give her another chance and the one time Wanda says yes.

Blood Drive (One Shot)

While completing her mandated volunteer hours, Y/n stumbles upon Wanda Maximoff at the local blood drive. Unable to get Wanda out of her mind, Y/n goes through a lengthy process just to ask Wanda out.

The Chosen One (One Shot)

How do you love the daughter of the evilest family in the galaxy? Just ask Wanda Maximoff.

Don’t Ask Stupid Questions (Part One) | Don’t Say Something Stupid (Part Two) 

Friends with benefits is never a good idea when you’re in love with Wanda Maximoff.

To Be Loved Is To Be Considered (One Shot)

The moments that Wanda considered Y/n aka the moments her loved showed.

Getaway Driver (Rewritten) (One Shot)

Based off my incorrect quote, Y/n is the getaway driver for Wanda’s mission.

Never Enough (One Shot)

The aftermath of Wanda cheating on Y/n.

Incorrect Quotes

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen | Seventeen | Eighteen | Nineteen | Twenty | Twenty One | Twenty Two | Twenty Three | Twenty Four | Twenty Five | Twenty Six | Twenty Seven | Twenty Eight | Twenty Nine | Thirty | Thirty One | Thirty Two | Thirty Three | Thirty Four | Thirty Five | Thirty Six | Thirty Seven | Thirty Eight | Thirty Nine | Forty | Forty One | Forty Two | Forty Three | Forty Four | Forty Five | Forty Six | Forty Seven | Forty Eight | Forty Nine | Fifty | Fifty One | Fifty Two | Fifty Three | Fifty Four |

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Her Secret (One Shot) 

Falling out of love is sometimes inevitable, but is the breakup ever really “mutual”?

Incorrect Quotes

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen | Seventeen | Eighteen | Nineteen | Twenty | Twenty One | Twenty Two |

WandaNat x Female Reader

Oblivious Reader Incorrect Quotes

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen |

Other Incorrect Quotes

One | 

Hermione Granger x Female Reader

The Talk (One Shot)

Hermione and Y/n have a small talk before Y/n leaves for America. A lot of words remain unsaid, but maybe something more can happen in the future.

Playing with Fire (One Shot)

When things don’t go quite as planned, a bitter duo is led to fight for their lives while resolving locked away feelings. (Collaboration w/ @a-simple-imagine)

Dancing with Fantasies (One Shot)

During Bill and Fleur’s, Y/n and Hermione have a small moment together in the midst of all the chaos surrounding them.

Tell Her (One Shot)

Telling people how you feel about them is never easy. Especially when it comes to Y/n with Hermione.

Death of the Foolish (One Shot)

This was the life of Y/n after she was forced to break up with Hermione for reasons out of her control. But there really was no life after it.

Do I owe her the truth? (One Shot)

Should Y/n tell the truth to Hermione no matter the consequences?

[chickennoodlesoupjandb]

Masterlist

Updated: May 4, 2024 (Happy Star Wars Day)

Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader

Fake Memories (Long Series Completed)

After Y/n is caught cheating on Wanda with Carol, Y/n would do just about anything to get Wanda back into her life. But was it even Y/n’s fault that she cheated? Or was it the new enemy set on revenge?

Amnesia (Hiatus)

After Wanda and Y/n get into a huge argument over Wanda’s late husband, Vision, the two take a couple of hours to cool off. They fall asleep still mad at each other. However, after Wanda wakes up ready to apologize, she wakes up not to Y/n’s face but Visions. How is Vision still alive? What happened to Y/n? What will happen to Wanda as she walks through a reality where Vision is still alive? What will she do when she realizes that isn’t due to her magic? What will happen to her and Y/n? 

Prom Series (Mini-Series Completed)

Prom season is coming around for Avalon High and Y/n could not be any more annoyed. Not only is she trying her best to work up the courage to ask her best friend, Wanda Maximoff, out, she also has to compete against everyone else that seems to want her as well. Will Y/n build enough courage to finally ask Wanda out? Will Wanda get a date before Y/n does ask? Will Y/n go to prom alone? Read to find out. 

Her Secret  (Mini-Series Completed)

It’s never easy being Wanda’s secret, but Y/n could care less, or at least that’s what she tells herself. But senior year is ending. Y/n is tired of hiding. Wanda is tired of Y/n asking. Will the two actually become a couple before graduation? Or will there be goodbyes as they part for college?

My Rival (Mini-Series Ongoing) 

“I hate Wanda Maximoff. I hate her face and the way she hides her freckles. I hate her smile and how perfect she laughs. I hate how smart she is and how she knows everything. I hate her.” Y/n complained.

But how could she hate the girl that always took #1 in everything? How could she hate the girl that captivated her mind 24/7? How could she hate the girl she would willingly be #2 for?

Or the time where Y/n Y/l/n and Wanda Maximoff were academic rivals that fell for each other.

“If you could love me again, I could let go of everything.” (Hiatus)

“They were the right person but wrong time,” Natasha said as she spoke about Y/n and Wanda. But as the two spent time apart and the Avengers were needing new leaders, Natasha could only hope that this was finally the right time for her two favorite people.

Favorite Crime (Hiatus)

Y/n L/n, daughter of the villainous group, “The Gisbourne”. They’re known to do the cruelest things around the world in order to get what they want. In order to stray away from her family, Y/n is the founder and sole member of the vigilante group, “The Robins”. She does what she can in order to assist those in need of help in New York City.

However, what happens when the Avengers are tasked with finally defeating the Gisbournes? What happens when they use their newest member, Wanda Maximoff, to get to the black sheep of the family? What happens if they both fall in love? But what if it was all a mission to Wanda? 

Insecurities (One Shot)

College AU! Wanda and Y/n have a fight outside of a frat house all because of him.

Now You Know (One Shot) 

It’s Wanda’s wedding day, so where are you?

Lost in the Universe (Part One) | (Part Two) 

Y/n is transported to a different universe and by chance,  meets the Wanda that inhabits it.

The Actress & The Geek (One Shot)

A late night practice causes Y/n and Wanda to confess their feelings.

Give Me Another Chance (One Shot) 

The five times Y/n asks Wanda to give her another chance and the one time Wanda says yes.

Blood Drive (One Shot)

While completing her mandated volunteer hours, Y/n stumbles upon Wanda Maximoff at the local blood drive. Unable to get Wanda out of her mind, Y/n goes through a lengthy process just to ask Wanda out.

The Chosen One (One Shot)

How do you love the daughter of the evilest family in the galaxy? Just ask Wanda Maximoff.

Don’t Ask Stupid Questions (Part One) | Don’t Say Something Stupid (Part Two) 

Friends with benefits is never a good idea when you’re in love with Wanda Maximoff.

To Be Loved Is To Be Considered (One Shot)

The moments that Wanda considered Y/n aka the moments her loved showed.

Getaway Driver (Rewritten) (One Shot)

Based off my incorrect quote, Y/n is the getaway driver for Wanda’s mission.

Never Enough (One Shot)

The aftermath of Wanda cheating on Y/n.

Incorrect Quotes

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen | Seventeen | Eighteen | Nineteen | Twenty | Twenty One | Twenty Two | Twenty Three | Twenty Four | Twenty Five | Twenty Six | Twenty Seven | Twenty Eight | Twenty Nine | Thirty | Thirty One | Thirty Two | Thirty Three | Thirty Four | Thirty Five | Thirty Six | Thirty Seven | Thirty Eight | Thirty Nine | Forty | Forty One | Forty Two | Forty Three | Forty Four | Forty Five | Forty Six | Forty Seven | Forty Eight | Forty Nine | Fifty | Fifty One | Fifty Two | Fifty Three | Fifty Four |

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Her Secret (One Shot) 

Falling out of love is sometimes inevitable, but is the breakup ever really “mutual”?

Incorrect Quotes

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen | Seventeen | Eighteen | Nineteen | Twenty | Twenty One | Twenty Two |

WandaNat x Female Reader

Oblivious Reader Incorrect Quotes

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen |

Other Incorrect Quotes

One | 

Hermione Granger x Female Reader

The Talk (One Shot)

Hermione and Y/n have a small talk before Y/n leaves for America. A lot of words remain unsaid, but maybe something more can happen in the future.

Playing with Fire (One Shot)

When things don’t go quite as planned, a bitter duo is led to fight for their lives while resolving locked away feelings. (Collaboration w/ @a-simple-imagine)

Dancing with Fantasies (One Shot)

During Bill and Fleur’s, Y/n and Hermione have a small moment together in the midst of all the chaos surrounding them.

Tell Her (One Shot)

Telling people how you feel about them is never easy. Especially when it comes to Y/n with Hermione.

Death of the Foolish (One Shot)

This was the life of Y/n after she was forced to break up with Hermione for reasons out of her control. But there really was no life after it.

Do I owe her the truth? (One Shot)

Should Y/n tell the truth to Hermione no matter the consequences?

[chickennoodlesoupjandb]

My Rival

Series Summary: “I hate Wanda Maximoff. I hate her face and the way she hides her freckles. I hate her smile and how perfect she laughs. I hate how smart she is and how she knows everything. I hate her.” Y/n complained. 

But how could she hate the girl that always took #1 in everything? How could she hate the girl that captivated her mind 24/7? How could she hate the girl she would willingly be #2 for?

Or the time where Y/n Y/l/n and Wanda Maximoff were academic rivals that fell for each other.

A/n: I'm so excited to reveal my new mini-series. I've been wanting to write an academic rivals story with Wanda Maximoff. Part of me wanted to make this a long series but god I suck at slow burn. If someone can teach me that art, I could try. Gif credits go to @unreliablewitnessofmyexistence

Warnings: Rivals to Lovers, Happy Ending, Angst, Jealousy, Cursing

Masterlist

Moodboard (Credits to @wandasverison)

Chapter 1: Second to You

Chapter 2: Confessions for You

Chapter 3: Choosing for You

Chapter 4: Finding My Way to You