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[imagine-reblog]

Pumpkin Guts

Natasha Romanoff x supersoldier!reader

Summary: Your first Halloween :)

The cool October breeze swept through the compound as you stood quietly by the large window, watching the other Avengers excitedly prepare for their Halloween celebration. They seemed to have an easy camaraderie, something you hadn’t quite figured out how to slip into yet. Since defecting to the team as a former Hydra super soldier, you’d kept your distance—an observer in the background, ever alert, ever guarded. You weren’t used to this kind of normality, this sense of home.

Except for Natasha Romanoff.

Natasha was different. Something about her—maybe it was her calm confidence or her ability to understand without needing to ask—made you feel safe in ways you hadn’t in a long time. You gravitated toward her more than anyone else, drawn to her in ways you were just starting to understand. When she was around, you relaxed, the weight of your past lifting, if only slightly.

This was your first Halloween with the team, and from the looks of it, a big deal to Natasha. You’d never celebrated the holiday before—Hydra hadn’t exactly been festive—and you weren’t sure how to feel about the pumpkins, the decorations, or the costume talk swirling through the compound.

“Hey,” Natasha’s soft voice pulled you from your thoughts. You turned to see her leaning casually against the doorway, a warm smile on her lips.

“Hey,” you replied, your voice a little softer when it was just the two of you.

“You doing okay?” she asked, her green eyes scanning your face with that familiar concern she always seemed to have for you.

You shrugged. “It’s just… a lot. I’ve never done this before.”

Natasha stepped closer, her smile widening. “Then it’s about time you had a proper Halloween, don’t you think? I happen to love this holiday, and I’d say you’re in good hands.”

You felt the corners of your lips tug upward at that. You didn’t often smile, but with Natasha, it was easier. “What’s first then?”

“Pumpkin patch,” she declared, grabbing her jacket and tossing one at you. “Come on. You’re gonna love it.

The haunted carnival had been Natasha’s idea, of course. She loved Halloween—the decorations, the spooky vibe, the general mischief. For you, the idea of spending time in such a lively, festive setting was strange, even a little overwhelming. But the way Natasha’s eyes lit up at each new booth, her excitement infectious, made you want to be there with her. She had a way of making the unfamiliar feel okay.

You noticed she kept glancing at you, checking to see how you were doing. She always did that, never too obvious about it, but enough that you knew she was paying attention.

“You’re quiet tonight,” she said softly, nudging your shoulder as the two of you approached a line of carnival games. “Everything good?”

You nodded. “Just… taking it all in. I’ve never been to anything like this.”

Natasha smiled, her green eyes twinkling in the carnival light. “We’ll make sure you experience everything, then.”

You tried to suppress a smile, but it slipped out, small but genuine. You weren’t used to these kinds of lighthearted moments, but with Natasha, they were becoming more frequent, more comfortable.

“Come on,” she said, tugging you toward a booth where you could see various stuffed animals hanging as prizes. “I bet you can win something.”

You eyed the game suspiciously. It was one of those typical carnival games—a row of bottles stacked together, and the goal was to knock them all over with a single throw. You weren’t one to back down from a challenge, and Natasha seemed to know that. You both knew it wouldn’t be hard for either one of you.

“I’ll give it a shot,” you muttered, stepping up and handing over a ticket.

Natasha stood close, watching intently as you sized up the bottles. With a steady hand, you hurled the ball, knocking over every last one with a resounding clatter. The carnie raised his eyebrows, surprised, and Natasha let out an impressed whistle.

“Nice throw,” she grinned. “Now, what are you going to win me?”

You glanced up at the selection of prizes and, after a moment of contemplation, pointed to a small stuffed bat hanging from the top row. The carnie handed it over with a nod, and you turned to Natasha, holding it out to her.

“A bat?” she teased, but her smile was soft as she took it from you. “I love it.”

“I figured it suited you,” you replied, trying to mask the hint of shyness creeping into your voice.

The rest of the evening was filled with a similar kind of lightness. You went through haunted houses, where Natasha laughed at your stone-faced calm even when actors jumped out to scare you. You shared cotton candy, and she even convinced you to go on a rickety old Ferris wheel that gave you a perfect view of the entire carnival, and both of you a new observed sparkle in eachothers eyes.

But it wasn’t until later that night, back at the compound, that you realized just how much Halloween meant to Natasha.

The knock on your door was unexpected. It was late—late enough that most of the compound had quieted down for the night. You were sitting on your bed, thinking over the evening and the odd warmth that had settled in your chest. Natasha’s smile, her laughter, the brief moments when her arm had brushed yours—it all stuck with you more than you’d anticipated.

When you opened the door, Natasha stood there, a mischievous smile on her face, her arms filled with an array of October-themed treats. “I come bearing desserts,” she announced, pushing her way into your room without waiting for an invitation.

You blinked in surprise, stepping back to let her pass. “Nat, what…?”

“I realized I hadn’t properly introduced you to the best part of Halloween,” she said, setting down a tray on your desk. “The food.”

Your eyes widened as you took in the selection—caramel apples, mini pumpkin pies, Halloween-themed cookies, and candy corn.

“You made all this?”

“Well, I helped make some of it,” she admitted, clearly proud of herself. “Tony’s kitchen is well-stocked for this kind of thing. Thought you might want a late-night snack.”

Your room suddenly felt warmer, more comfortable. The usually bare, sterile space now smelled of cinnamon and sugar, and Natasha’s presence filled the room with a kind of energy you hadn’t known you needed.

She handed you one of the caramel apples, grinning as she took a bite of her own. “Go on. It’s good.”

You hesitated for only a moment before sinking your teeth into the apple. The sweetness hit you instantly, and you couldn’t help the small hum of approval that escaped you.

“Told you,” Natasha said smugly, settling onto your bed with her legs crossed beneath her. She looked completely at ease, like she belonged there.

You found yourself watching her more than you were eating, the way her face softened in the warm glow of the desk lamp, the way she smiled easily when she was with you. You hadn’t felt this kind of peace in a long time, and it unnerved you—but at the same time, you wanted more of it.

“What’s on your mind?” Natasha asked after a few moments of comfortable silence. She always knew when you were caught up in your thoughts.

You shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious. “Just… all of this. All the freedom, the fun, it scares me a little.”

She tilted her head, her smile softening. “I know it is. But that’s why I wanted to make it special.”

Your heart thudded in your chest. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” she replied, her voice low but certain.

You swallowed, feeling the words you’d kept hidden for so long rising to the surface. But you weren’t sure how to say them, or if you should. Natasha had a way of reading your silence, though, and she leaned in just a little closer.

“I’ve seen you since you got here,” she said quietly, her eyes never leaving yours. “You don’t always let people in, but I’m glad you’ve let me.”

Her words made your chest tighten, but in a good way. In a way that made you feel understood. You wanted to tell her how much she meant to you, how she made you feel safer, more grounded than you’d ever felt—but before you could speak, she gave you a playful nudge with her foot.

“Come on,” she said, her eyes gleaming with joy, as she took your hand and dragged you out your room, “we’re going on a horror movie binge,”. she smiled brightly as she led you to the movie room.

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of Halloween-themed activities. Each day brought something new— the caramel apples, spooky movies, and laughter that echoed through the halls. You found yourself relaxing more with the team, but it was Natasha’s presence that truly helped you lower your guard. She made the unfamiliar feel safe.

One evening, you found yourself in the kitchen with Natasha, both of you surrounded by pumpkins.

“You ready for this?” Natasha asked, setting down the biggest pumpkin she could find. You could see the challenge in her eyes, and despite your reluctance to get too involved, you couldn’t help but feel competitive.

“Depends. What exactly are we doing?” you asked, eyeing her with suspicion.

“Carving pumpkins,” she said with a playful smirk. “Or at least, that’s how it’ll start.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And how will it end?”

Natasha grinned, leaning in slightly. “Guess we’ll find out.”

You both got to work, scooping out the pumpkin guts. You were meticulous, focused on getting it just right, while Natasha was more relaxed, humming softly as she carved her design. Every so often, you’d glance over at her, feeling that familiar warmth build in your chest. She made you feel at ease in a way you hadn’t felt in years.

But as the pile of pumpkin guts grew, Natasha’s humming stopped, and you felt something cold and slimy hit the side of your face. You blinked, slowly turning to see Natasha looking far too innocent, a bit of pumpkin goop on her fingers.

“Did you just…?”

“Maybe,” she teased, eyes gleaming with mischief.

You reached for your own handful of pumpkin innards and launched it at her with precision. It hit her square in the shoulder, and her gasp of mock indignation quickly turned into laughter.

“Oh, you’re gonna regret that,” she said, grabbing a larger handful and flinging it at you.

Before you knew it, the kitchen was a battlefield of flying pumpkin guts, laughter ringing in the air as you dodged and retaliated. You hadn’t laughed like this in… ever, really. The sound was foreign to you, but with Natasha, it felt right.

In the chaos of it all, you slipped on a particularly slimy patch of pumpkin, arms flailing as you fell back. Natasha attempting to stable you, but ended up losing her own balance, tumbling down on top of your solid build.

You both froze, her body pressed against yours, faces inches apart, your breaths mingling. Her hair had fallen across her face, and you reached up instinctively to brush it away, your hand lingering on her cheek.

Her eyes softened, and the playfulness faded into something deeper, something you hadn’t allowed yourself to acknowledge until this moment.

“Nat,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

She didn’t say anything, just leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It was gentle, sweet, and everything you hadn’t known you needed. When she pulled back, she was smiling, her forehead resting against yours.

“You should smile more,” she murmured, her thumb brushing lightly over your cheek. “It looks good on you.”

You chuckled softly, feeling the tension melt away as you sat up, arms propping you up, her moving swiftly to your lap as you blushed moving your nose to brush hers “Only when you’re around.”

Natasha grinned, leaning in to kiss you again, this time slower, more deliberate. And in that moment, amidst the pumpkin guts and the chaos of Halloween, you realized that maybe—just maybe—you had finally found a place where you belonged.

And that place was with her.

[imagine-reblog]

♕ Headcanons | Lena Luthor ♕

Pairing: Lena Luthor x reader

Warnings: none

Summary: Just a bunch of headcanons :)

_______________________________________________

˚✧ Lena might act like an extrovert in public and at work but she’s really more of an introvert and enjoys to spend her free time curled up on the couch next to you with a book in her hand.

˚✧ She’s exceptional at almost everything. Almost everything because she can’t accept a compliment for the life of her. Years of torment and abuse from Lillian and Lex have rendered her incapable of seeing herself the way you see her, so you make it your mission to tell her how extraordinary she is and how much you love her every day.

˚✧ She hates salmon and will even go so far as to not kiss you for a while after you’ve eaten some.

˚✧ She would never admit it, but she absolutely melts every time you refer to her as your baby.

˚✧ When the two of you started dating, she was hesitant to touch you. She’s would touch your cheeks while kissing, only to retract her hands again a split second later as though she’s afraid of overstepping some kind of boundary.

“You can touch me,” you said the second time it happened.

Lena’s eyes widened slightly and when she didn’t move, you grabbed her hands with your own and put them on your face, holding them in place.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything, so—“

“I’m sure.” You smiled and pecked her lips until she started to kiss back.

˚✧ As soon as you get engaged, you’re her plus one at every gala or event. She’ll introduce you to hundreds of people with her hand on your chest to show off her ring.

˚✧ Seeing you in your gym clothes after working out makes her go absolutely feral and you can almost always count on her joining you in the shower whenever you get home after the gym.

˚✧ She likes being held by you when she sleeps. She likes how warm you are against her back or how soft the fabric of your shirt is against her cheek when she’s laying on top of you with her head on your chest.

˚✧ You’re a decent chess player, but Lena is better. She won’t rub your nose in it though and she even lets you win sometimes.

˚✧ She isn’t a big fan of PDA. She doesn’t mind holding your hand, or getting a kiss on her cheek, but anything more than that is reserved for behind closed doors.

˚✧ When it comes to your love life, she usually prefers to keep it slow and intimate. Other times though (like when you get back from the gym) she likes it more rough and dirty.

˚✧ She loves, loves, loves marking you whether it’s with her teeth, or her nails. After a long night with you, you’ll wake up in the morning to find her tracing the marks she left on you with her eyes.

˚✧ She’s not bothered when someone flirts with you because she knows she’s got you wrapped around her finger.

˚✧ The fact that she’s rich doesn’t stop you from picking up the check almost every time. Neither does it stop you from paying for your shared apartment’s utilities, and Lena can’t help but love you even more for it.

˚✧ When you’re not home, Lena will cuddle with your pillow and breathe in your lingering scent on the sheets. She hates it when you’re gone and will cling to you for at least a day as soon as you get back (you don’t mind it at all).

˚✧ She likes neck kisses.

˚✧ You’re the only person she doesn’t mind crying in front of. Quite the opposite actually. She’s glad you’re there when she’s upset and she delights in the way you hold her and kiss her temple until she’s feeling better.

˚✧ She’d never admit it, but she likes pampering you when you get home after a particularly long day at the office. She likes how you’ll collapse on top of her on the couch and will run her fingers through your hair while you listen to her heartbeat.

_______________________________________________

This was short and sweet. I hope you guys liked it :)

[imagine-reblog]

I really love your headcanons and I was wondering if you would make some about the reader accidentally calling Tony “dad”? Maybe sometimes it isn’t around him but around the other avengers and they think the reader is talking about their actual dad. I love the relationship between Tony and Peter so those kinda vibes ya know? If you’re comfortable doing that

A/N: I like this idea! I set this to pre-Ultron era, so it takes place in the tower. thanks for requesting 💕

-

Tony had a feeling you were gifted when he found you, but he had no idea just how much until you came to his lab. You kept up with his fast paced working environment so easily and had answers to questions he hadn’t even asked yet

Whether you have a good relationship with your parents or not, your appreciation for Tony is immense. You were both into the same things science wise, and you loved that he didn’t belittle you because of your age. In the lab, you were equal

Although, he definitely made sure you didn’t abandon your homework while working with him, ate meals and got home in time for a decent amount of sleep. You tried to do the same, and he gradually began to follow his own advice when you were around

Because you spend so much time at the tower after school, you often end up eating dinner there with Steve, Natasha, Bruce, and occasionally Clint and Thor. They adored you as much as you admired them, looking after you like family too

It was on a Friday evening that Steve and Nat found you sitting on a couch in the common area, playing around with a holographic system Tony helped you create

“Hey, little genius,” Nat got your attention with a smile. “Are you staying the weekend?”

“No, I’ve got to get home. I’m just waiting on Dad to give me a ride.”

“Is he on his way now?”

“He’s in the lab.”

Before Steve could question how your dad got into the building without any of them knowing, the elevator doors opened and Tony peeked his head out of them.

“Hey, kid. You ready to go?”

You nodded and stood with your bag and device, waving farewell to the two Avengers as you approached your mentor in the elevator

“Huh. Never thought I’d see the day when Tony Stark became a father.”

marvel requests?

[imagine-reblog]

Skin to skin

(Drabble)

Pairing: Nat x you

Words: 338

Warnings: none

Summary: Intimacy in its most innocent form.

Contrary to popular belief, nudity didn’t always have to be a sexual thing. Sure, sometimes it could be. It was intimate, addictive, alluring. Fingertips tracing over goosebump covered skin. Lips kissing, lingering against areas no other being had ever dared to touch. But most of the time, feeling Natasha’s soft, scarred skin against your own without any ulterior motives was the most comforting feeling to have ever existed.

It wasn’t always after being intimate either. Most of the time, in the comfort of your shared bedroom, she’d simply strip and send you a look that told you to do the same.

The way she’d all but melt against you, nose tucked into the crook of your neck as gentle, calloused hands traced over your skin. Her soft thigh resting atop of your hips, perfectly rounded breasts pressed against your own with no intent. She’d sometimes doze, but more of often than not she’d simply lay there and take in the comfort and tranquility of your surroundings. Your warm body against her own.

Your hand would comfortingly, methodically comb through her hair, fingertips grazing over her scalp emitting a breath so warm it would erupt your skin into goosebumps in a way most would find arousing as opposed to comforting.

Your other hand would trace delicate circles against her side, sometimes catching a ticklish spot that would have Natasha huff a quiet giggle against your neck. Other times, it would just rest there as a gentle, comforting reminder, feeling the way her stomach rose and fell as she breathed.

Gentle, innocent kisses would be shared. You’d press your lips against her forehead, nose, cheek, and earn one back just as quick in any place she could reach. Your chest, neck, jawline. No words would be spoken, but they didn’t have to be. You both knew what the other was thinking.

It was simply just existing together, something you wished to have with her for the rest of your life.

**

@goldenempyrean @romanoffsbish @alotofpockets @widowbitessting @yelenasdiary

[imagine-reblog]

Stuie, I come to you as a humble fan requesting a drabble of said “lazy affections” with Wanda 🙏🏼

I don't usually do these kinds of things because I never really know what to write. I'm not entirely sure if I understood this correctly, so I took my own take on it. I hope you enjoy it 😊❤️

There’s nothing quite like that delicious moment when you're balanced on the edge between dreams and waking, your mind caught in a sweet tug-of-war between the warm cocoon of sleep and the world waiting just beyond. Something was luring you gently towards the day, and as you lazily stretched, your senses hummed with the luxurious pleasure of skin against skin. A soft, involuntary sigh slipped from your lips, and you knew immediately who was responsible for the lazy exploration tracing your ribs, gliding up your torso, and settling like a gentle claim against your neck, fingers combing tenderly through your hair.

Slowly, you opened your eyes, and there she was—your favorite view. A tousled crown of fiery red hair, emerald eyes sparkling with a warmth that made your heart flutter. A slow, content smile spread across your lips as she guided you closer, her touch as familiar as it was irresistible. You didn’t need to be coaxed; the comfort of her embrace was a haven you’d surrender to every time.

There was something exquisitely intimate about feeling her bare skin pressed against yours, a closeness that no force could pull apart. In the quiet sanctuary of your home, Wanda was yours entirely, and with every beat of your heart, you were hers—a devotion so deep, there were moments you wished you could melt into her, become one with her, just to never be separated.

It was a love so consuming, so all-encompassing, that it sometimes stole your breath away, leaving you gasping, desperate to close even the smallest distance between you. But knowing that wasn’t possible, you simply indulged in the lazy, sensual caresses of her fingers, each touch a tender promise. She made soft, contented sounds as you nuzzled closer, burying your face in the crook of her neck, where her scent and warmth whispered of home. And in her arms, you knew you were exactly where you were meant to be.

[imagine-reblog]

Noooo, but the fact that mc is offering to braid Alessa's hair just like they did with their mother 😭😭

like, after what happened to their mother, mc cares enough about Alessa that even if the action could bring bittersweet memories to them, they still offer to do it because they want to help her and spend time with her 😭😭😭

I always enjoy your writing, but it's "little" things like this that blows my mind for how of an amazing writter you are. This fact not only gives mc and their mother's relationship more depth, but also gives more meaning to mc's actions and therefore their relationship with Alessa 🥹

Sorry for the gigantic ask and for rambling lol, the tldr is that that other ask just made my day and I love your writing! Have a great day, Ana!! ❤️❤️

Alessa sits patiently as you weave her braid, your soft touch sending little pleasant shivers down her spine. You're uncharacteristically silent, but she closes her eyes and decides to enjoy the moment.

Your fingers go from her scalp to the points of her hair, and finally, with smooth practice, you tie the cord at the end. "Done," you whisper.

Alessa opens her eyes, reaching a hand back to trace the braid. It feels neat. ""Tis perfect," she says, turning around with a grateful smile.

You smile back, and Alessa's brows lower. Why does it look so sad?

"It looks good on you," you say, your voice low still. And why, she wonders, are your eyes so dark.

[imagine-reblog]

This is What Love Feels Like

Masterlist

Prompt: Person A lightly kissing Person B’s forehead as B falls asleep on A’s shoulder

I hope you guys like this short little imagine with Theo!

Words: 220

Theodora Crain had never fallen in love. She didn’t know what it was supposed to look or feel like, but all of that changed once she met you.

When she saw you that night in the club, it wasn’t supposed to turn into this. It was only supposed to be a simple one-night thing, but here you are curled into her side, sitting on the couch with the rest of the Crain children around the two of you.

It was late into the night and all of the children of the family have been tucked into bed leaving Shirley, Nell, Luke, Steven, and their significant others in the living room talking in front of the fireplace. Theo’s arm is wrapped around you as you lean your head on her shoulder. The conversation reaches a point where it has come to a loll and your eyes grow heavier.

You try to keep up with the conversation Theo, Nell, and Shirley are having, but before you know it you doze off, comfortably situated in your lover’s embrace. 

Shirley looks at you and Theo and smiles softly. Theo gives her a confused look and Nell gestures to you sleeping on her shoulder. 

Theo looks down at you and smiles before kissing your forehead. 

She thinks to herself, ‘This is what love feels like.’

-

You might like:  Dating Theodora Crain in University Would Include

[imagine-reblog]

Borrowed - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: Wanda develops the habit of stealing your clothes, and you develop the habit of fucking her wearing them. 

Warnings: (+18), bottom!Wanda (a bit bratty), established relationship, slightly of power dynamics, dry humping/clothed for a bit, oral (w), fingering (w), strap on (w), some dirty talking, a bit overstimulation. | Words: 2.289k

A/N-> This is actually an old idea, someone on Tumblr, not sure who, wrote an image about Wanda using our favorite hoodie, and I actually love all fics that have this dynamic so I decided to do a small fic about it.

General Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3

-&-

You were starting to think you were being robbed.

It was a plausible conclusion, considering how rarely you were out of uniform and the very few moments when you had the freedom to wear more comfortable clothes, and how quickly your sweatshirts disappeared from your closet.

With a frustrated sigh, and your hair still damp from the shower, you stared at the empty drawer for a long, reflective moment, trying to find solutions to the disappearance of all your hoodies.

Even after checking the other drawers, the laundry basket and even the compound's laundry room, you had no success. You were forced to make your way back to your rooms with your arms shivering from the cold, and a disappointed expression on your little mission.

Instead of returning to your room, however, you skipped to the next door, hoping to talk to your girlfriend and ask her if she had any idea where you'd forgotten your coats.

To your surprise, the answer came the same second your eyes met the figure distracted by a sitcom on the television; right there on the bed was Wanda, wearing nothing but your favorite hoodie that wasn't even the right size - nothing surprising when one steals clothes from a super soldier - but which she seemed to be making good use of.

"Wanda!" Your exclamation of surprise made her take her eyes off the DVD immediately. At first, she thought you were just saying hello, and smiled in your direction. But your face frowned and it was her turn to look at you curiously. "I can't believe you."

She makes a quick assessment of the facts in the seconds it takes for you to close the door and approach the bed; she doesn't reckon to have done anything wrong. You two spoke earlier, you even had a heated and inappropriate make-out session in the garage when you arrived, and she had dinner next to you before you left the living room to take a shower. No arguments, no news she forgot to tell you.

But you chuckled incredulously at the cluelessness on her face, and occupying the field of view between the bed and the television, you commented;

"I'm quite cold, you know that?" Wanda grinned in relief at your phrase. She doesn't have time to tease you about being clingy. You slowly lean your body towards her, effectively pinning Wanda to the mattress as you hover over her. All Wanda can do is sigh in anticipation, and her stomach feels already full of butterflies. 

"I can warm you up." She lets out an inviting sigh, but although your eyes take on a darker hue, you smirk and extend the distance again. Wanda bites her lip, trying to hold back a complaint fearing that you would torment her and make her beg for it, but you take your hands off the mattress and place them on her waist.

With gentle tugs on the sweatshirt, you comment; "I'm sure you can, darling. You look quite warm."

Another gentle tug on the fluffy fabric and Wanda understood. She didn't look the least bit guilty about being caught, though. Adjusting herself comfortably on the bed, she gave you the most innocent smile she could manage.

You pulled the hoodie up just a few centimeters, biting your lip at the thin lace panties that were the only thing separating her intimacy from your thigh now.

"Don't you have anything to say for yourself?" You ask, your hands moving under your hoodie, teasing her skin with gentle touches that make Wanda strangle on her own breath.

She quickly denies it with a nod, but when your fingers give a warning tug to her nipples, she squeals audibly.

"S-sorry!" She panted aroused, her shaky legs trying to force you down. But your body stands firm above her, and the difference in strength never fails to leave her frustrated and terribly wet. "I just... like them. Smells like you." She confesses, hoping that her sincerity is enough for you to forgive her and help her with the throbbing between her legs.

You hum distractedly, your palms leisurely playing with her breasts under the hoodie until you turn Wanda into a whining mess underneath you.

Your firm thigh between her legs also serves as a torturous stimulation - even for you, it's hard to keep up the slow, teasing pace while you have the deliriously hot, wet sensation of Wanda's pussy rubbing against your skin. When you catch a bead of sweat running down her forehead from all the teasing, you chuckle wickedly.

"Wow, I bet this one is starting to bother you." Your hands come out to tug the hoodie down, and Wanda grunts softly, offering begging eyes to you. "What's the matter, sweetheart? Are you hot?"

She nods almost shyly, a little guilt finally slipping through her irises. Not for the act of stealing your clothes, but for the fact that she was caught and will be punished for it.

You smile, your hands settling back on the mattress so that you can lie on top of her, without wasting time to break the distance between your faces now.

Wanda moans as soon as she feels your tongue on hers, so hungry and experienced, stealing the air from her lungs and making her see stars. She struggles to match the intensity of the kiss, very much because you allow her to use your thigh as she pleases, and she is feverishly grinding herself back into your skin in search of relief of the hot knot in her lower belly. You stop kissing her when she can only return breathy moans to your lips, and decide to mark the skin of her collarbone while Wanda builds up her own orgasm, her eyes closed and her nails digging into your now shivering arms for another reason. 

It's definitely too hot - The padded hoodie is uncomfortable as the liquid arousal courses through her veins and her body jerks, but every time Wanda makes an attempt to pull the item off her, strong hands push the garment back into place. Until finally you grab her wrists and prevent further attempts while holding her firmly. 

You bite her lobe also panting against her neck next, as you let her move her hips at will. When Wanda starts to pant a little heavier than before, you can tell that she is close.

 "Are you really gonna come, baby? I never got to take your panties off." 

She opens her mouth to tell you to go ahead and take them off, but the teasing alone pushes her over the edge, and what escapes her is a throaty moan. Her body stiffens under yours, and her eyes roll back before she goes limp. You release her wrists, pulling your knee away from her over-stimulated cunt, and watch your girlfriend's satisfied, breathless expression for a moment.

When your face comes into focus again, Wanda smiles as she realizes that you were also stroking her sweaty hair out of her face.

"Hey." She greets you first, her body still twitching and tingling with pleasure. "Are you really mad about the hoodie?"

You giggle, denying it with a nod before kissing her. It's chaste because she's still trying to get back into orbit and there's no scene more beautiful to behold than Wanda Maximoff blushing in the aftermath of an orgasm.

"You can steal my clothes all you want." You assure her meekly, before sliding your hands back under the fabric. "Just keep in mind that I will want to fuck you in every one of them."

Wanda bites back a smile, sighing as she feels your fingers reach her sides to pull down her ruined panties. She swallows dryly as she realizes that you're lowering your body as well.

"I'm counting on it, darling." She murmurs quietly, hoping you won't pick up on her secret intentions. But of course you do, and let out a husky giggle against her thigh that makes Wanda sigh. "I meant-"

"Oh, I heard you well." You interrupt her, scratching your teeth into her skin and making Wanda twitch in anticipation, the muscles in her spread legs flexing. She risks looking down, only to meet your dark eyes and wince under your gaze. "How bad do you want me to fuck you, Wanda?"

She swallows dryly, her trembling hands trying to grab onto the sheets but everything is so hot and uncomfortable inside that hoodie that Wanda thinks if she doesn't undress soon she might collapse.

"Please." She mewls, her hips thrusting up towards your face. "I need you." She baits you so easily that you ignore the fact that you were trying some form of punishment. Wanda throws her head back on the pillow harshly as you nuzzle her drenched intimacy, the evidence of her last, almost embarrassing quick climax glistening in your direction. You kiss her thighs, teasing your way until she's whimpering again and you finally think you've had enough. Your tongue isn't gentle, Wanda hasn't behaved well in recent weeks as a naughty brat appearing in shorter and shorter skirts every time you need to leave the compound for a mission, or disturbing your meals and workouts with vivid images of all the other activities you could be doing that always involve her ruined beneath you.

So you're not gentle. You eat her out like your last meal, licking all over her previous climax before sucking her little clit and sinking your face between her legs, your strong hands holding her legs wide open as her body betrays her and tries to escape the pacing. The next orgasm overtakes her without any difficulties, and you haven't even fingered her yet when Wanda pours herself out for the second time that night. She's still whimpering when one of your hands lets go of her bruised thigh so that your fingers can sink into her pussy and Wanda hears the sheet rip in her palm as she tries to find some ground.

She also grabs a fistful of your hair, panting as you raise your eyes to her, your fingers in frantic rhythm inside her pussy. Breathless, she tries to hold your gaze as she risks to guide your movements:

"Yes, darling. Just like that." 

But you raise an eyebrow, and Wanda only has time to blink before all your movements are interrupted. You steal one orgasm from her as quickly as you start to build another; your hands spin her around on the bed and Wanda finds herself with her face pressed against the pillow and your body on top of hers. The rub of a familiar hardness against her ass makes her whine in need.

"It's cute when you think you're in charge." You whisper, filthily licking her neck and eliciting a loud moan from the witch. With her panties long discarded on the bedroom floor, you have no trouble pulling your rubber cock out of your pants and forcing it between Wanda's spread legs. She almost screams at the unannounced intrusion, but with the wetness of the last few orgasms, the toy slides in with ease. You pant softly as you bottom up. With your mouth inches from her ear, your hips begin a slow, steady rhythm inside her as you whisper; "It's your favorite, Wands. I left everything ready so I could fill you up just the way you like it." She whines into the pillow, clutching your fake cock tightly enough that you need to push a little harder to move. You kiss behind her ear before moving one of your hands to her tit again. Wanda's skin is burning under the warm clothes. "I put it on as soon as I got out of the shower." You let her know as you thrust deep inside her. "You really don't need to steal my clothes, baby. Hoodie or no hoodie, I would have fucked you tonight."

She comes harder than before this time, and with her impossibly tight, you don't see any point in holding back. Wanda is still coming when you fill her, the hot spurt inside her walls prolonging her climax and turning her into a babbling mess on the mattress.

You take pity on her. You pull your cock out of her fucked-up pussy, biting your lips at the sight of the leaking cum coming out of her before focusing on removing the sweaty, cum-soaked hoodie from your girlfriend's body.

Wanda tries to fight the exhaustion of three orgasms in a row, but she can barely keep her eyes open. It's been a long week.

You grip the rubber cock, adjusting your hips and rubbing the toy against Wanda's folds again, making her whine in protest, one of her hands desperate to grab your wrist and keep you out.

You hum attentively, although you don't penetrate her, you let the dildo slide on top of her clit, enjoying the way Wanda struggles to keep still.

"Had enough?" You ask even though you're able to watch her pussy clenching desperately at the emptiness, her body instinctively begging for more. Wanda gasps, her hips trying to buck away from the overstimulation only for her to end up rubbing against the bed during the attempt and eliciting a pathetic whimper from herself.

"Five." She gasps breathlessly. "Five minutes."

Your hips move away, and you stand up to remove your clothes while Wanda twitches and tries to catch her breath again on the bed. 

She reacts immediately to the lack of your warmth against her, seeking your presence by turning her head. An exchange of glances is enough to let you know that she just needs the time it takes for you to get the handcuffs from the bottom drawer.

[imagine-reblog]

Across the Natashaverse

Summary: Through a small accident, you end up in another universe. What happens when you find out that your relationship with Natasha is very different here?

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Life is good.

No missions for the week, done with training and fresh off the shower, you walk down the halls of the Compound.

“Someone’s in a good mood” Wanda comments when you join her at the kitchen. “Did Natasha change her mind about the date?”

Your smile falls immediately and her eyes widen.

“Shoot, I’m sorry”

“Nah, it’s fine” you steal a cookie from her plate and shrug your shoulders. “It was two weeks ago. She doesn’t see me that way, I get it”

“I don’t think it’s that” Wanda insists and you smile.

“You’re a hopeless romantic, Maximoff” you lean forward and place a kiss on the top of her head. The brunette chuckles, going back to the book she was reading.

As you walk to your room, you try not to think of Natasha. But it’s a small world, and she’s on her way to the gym, America Chavez right behind her.

“I’m on training duty” the redhead explains. “Wanna join us?”

“I have so much paperwork” you lie, because you’re very tired and have been looking forward to a nap. “Kick some butt, America”

“I’ll try” she doesn’t sound convinced at all.

Natasha smiles at you, waiting for your signature wink that always gets her heart racing.

But there’s not even a look back as you go to your room.

She really screwed up this time.

—

You weren’t exactly lying about the paperwork, and you work on it for half an hour to feel like you’re doing something productive with your day.

With a yawn, you stand up from the desk in your room and walk towards the bed. As you’re about to plop down, there’s a shift in the room and you land on your ass, the bed on the other side of the wall.

“What the fuck?” you say, looking around.

The room looks different. It’s the same size, but none of your stuff is there. Same thing with the hallways. It’s the Compound, but at the same time… it’s not. You walk out of the room, this time on spy mode, ready to take down the imminent threat.

“Y/N?” Natasha calls behind you and you rush to her side.

“Nat, hey. There’s something wrong. Stay close” you take her hand, and she stops you with a pull.

“I’ll say”

“Huh?” you turn, only to find her face inches away from yours.

“Where’s your wedding ring?”

“My… what?” you look down at your hands, confused. Natasha moves her face closer and you can’t focus on anything else.

“Oh, I see. Are you still angry about the other day? Because I can totally make it up to you, detka” Natasha whispers seductively against your lips, leaving a trail of kisses all the way to the shell of your ear.

“Nat.. uh… I think…”

“Use your words, pretty girl” she smiles, her hand going up your shirt to caress the skin.

And suddenly, she looks down, frowning.

“Where’s your scar?”

“I don’t have a…”

Natasha turns into a whole different person, placing you in a chokehold and holding both your arms down.

“Who are you? Are you a skrull?”

“I don’t know what that is” you say, gasping for air. “Wait, are they the ones Carol works with?”

“Who is Carol?”

“Captain Marvel”

“You mean Maria Rambeau”

“Maria is Captain Marvel?” you say, finally piecing together what’s happening. When your eyes lock with Natasha’s, you speak at the same time.

“You’re from another world”

“I’m from another world”

Even if she doesn’t let go, her grip on you losens enough for you to breathe. She’s about to ask something else when a little girl walks up and pulls your hand, getting your attention.

“Mama, what are you and Mommy doing?”

—

“Walk me through what happened”

“Nothing happened! I was doing paperwork in my room and then I was here” you say for the tenth time.

“How about before?” Natasha asks, turning right. Her idea was to drive you straight to Wong, as a multiverse travel is more of his specialty.

“I ran into you. I mean, not you. My Natasha. Wait, not my. She’s not mine” you mumble, massaging your temples. “Please tell me there’s ibuprofen in this world”

“Relax” she reaches forward, placing a hand on your thigh and you swear you’ll combust. “I get the idea. Now tell me what happened”

“We just ran into the hallway. Made some small talk. And then I went to my room”

“Just small talk?” Natasha smirks. “Not some kisses? A quickie against the wall? An earth shattering, universe transcending orgasm?”

You try to open the door and jump out of the moving car but it’s locked.

“It’s not… we’re not a thing. Just friends” you say, flustered.

“Really?” Natasha finally turns to you, as she parks outside of the not so secret lair at Bleecker street.

“Wait. It was America Chavez” you remember, facepalming. Of course. “Natasha was training her. Maybe she created a portal by accident”

“And now my wife is in another universe where you’re too chicken to ask me out. Can’t imagine that will go well for her”

“Hey, it’s not like that” you snap, embarrassed. Natasha turns to you, ready to speak back, as usual. Because she’s so smart and she thinks she knows everything. “Whatever. Let’s just get this shit fixed, I don’t wanna be here”

Walking past her, you stand before the big doors, that open up without knocking

“Welcome” the man says. “I take it you’re the little glitch in our universe”

“Yes, I am. Can you fix it?”

“No. But America can. She has been at Kamar-Taj for a year now. Her powers are more developed. It should be an interesting test for her”

“Ok, so what are we waiting for?”

“There have been some security concerns lately” Natasha explains, coming closer. “Wong has to notify their council to follow protocol”

“I’ll come find you tomorrow. Remember, the longer you stay here, the bigger the threat for both worlds”

“Yes, fine. See you tomorrow” you say, looking at your feet as you leave the building. Going down the steps, you can hear Natasha calling after you. “I’m walking back to the Compound. It’s the same route. I can wait for Wong there”

“We don’t live in the Compound” Natasha explains, her voice gentle. She waits until you turn back and searches your eyes. “Look, I’m sorry about what I said before. Come with me. I’ll feel better if I know you’re safe with us”

There’s a pause, and she waits patiently while you look around. But Natasha’s presence is like a magnet, and inevitably, your eyes come back to her beautiful features.

“What’s so funny?” she says when you chuckle.

“You do the same thing. Tilt your head to the side, purse your lips… it’s cute. In every universe”

“Sweet talker. Come on. Let’s go” she offers her hand and you accept it.

It takes an enormous amount of effort to remind yourself this isn’t the Natasha you know. And that you’re not the one she loves.

You’re so caught up in these thoughts you don’t notice when she pulls over.

“Ice cream always cheers you up” she explains, getting out of the car.

“Yeah, I guess we’re not that different”

She smiles, holding the door open for you. Well, at least the flavors are the same in this universe.

“I’ll have the peanut butter with chocolate chips”

“You’re allergic” Natasha says.

“I’m not”

“You’re not?” she repeats, while the man behind the counter looks at both of you, confused.

“Nope”

Once that’s settled, you get your ice cream cones and leave the store.

“Why are you staring?” you say, mouth full of ice cream.

“I’m just waiting for the hives and the runny nose”

“I’m not allergic” you insist, showing your arms, skin completely normal.

“Fine” she concedes, shrugging her shoulders. You keep eating in silence, until she turns back. “Wanna tell me why you got so upset?”

“Because. I did ask you… her out. She said no. I wasn’t a chicken; I gave her flowers and put myself out there. But I’m obviously the problem, because in this universe, everything works out to the point of you two getting married and having a daughter”

You take a seat in a nearby bench, feeling defeated. What a cruel thing, to see the life you could have had.

“Maybe she’s not ready. I was terrified when we started dating. Thought I’d screw it up because I knew nothing of love”

That’s what Wanda probably meant earlier. It’s a possibility that crossed your mind as well, but whatever the reason, Natasha had declined the date (looking very apologetic, you might add) and you were going to respect that choice.

“Or maybe she just doesn’t want me. And that’s ok. Because no matter what happens, I love my Natasha. And I’ll always want her to be happy”

Silence settles after you say that, but Natasha looks back at you, smiling.

“You’re very noble. It’s nice to see some things are the same across worlds”

“It’s nice to know there’s a version of me that makes a version of her happy”

Natasha smiles and nods.

“Let’s get home. Anya is waiting for us”

—

“Home sweet home” Natasha says, opening the door for you. It’s a beautiful townhouse, with lots of space in the backyard. All the walls are covered in pictures, and you can’t help but stare at all the memories that belong to a different version of you.

They seem like a happy family.

“Mommy” Anya says, and it takes a second to remember that she’s talking to you.

“Hey, sweetheart” you don’t hesitate to carry her as she comes running towards you. Natasha is keeping a watchful eye on you. “What is that?”

“That’s my Miffy, silly” she says and you bounce her in your arms, while she shows you her plushie.

Yelena joins you and you can’t help but stare. Her hair is black, short and she has bangs. There are also a couple of piercings in her nose and eyebrows.

“Did you cut your hair? Looks nice” she comments, picking up her stuff and getting ready to go. You simply nod and smile. “Gotta go, see you tomorrow for dinner with Kate, ok?”

Natasha’s sisters kisses everyone goodbye, including you and then bolts out the door.

“Baby, did you bath yet?” Natasha says, approaching Anya. The girl hides her face in the crook of your neck.

“I don’t wanna”

“You’re stinky” Natasha accuses, tickling the girl; Anya gives up and goes from your arms to the redhead’s. “Come on, and then I’ll start dinner”

“I can take care of that” you offer and Natasha’s eyes widen. Anya uses Natasha’s hair as a curtain, and thinks you can’t hear what she says.

“I don’t want Mommy to cook”

“What? Why?”

“You can’t cook” Natasha says. Well, that’s just bullshit. In your world, Natasha’s always the first in line to get a good serving of whatever it is you do.

“Go, I got this” you insist when Natasha puts Anya down. The redhead looks back several times, unsure. My God, how bad could the other you be in this world to get this reaction?

Luckily, once they are done with the bath, Anya comes back, pulling her mother and commenting that the smell is incredible.

“Mommy didn’t burn the kitchen!”

“Has that actually happened?” you mumble to Natasha and she nods. “Yikes”

The redhead laughs, and nudges your shoulder with hers.

“This is really good” she admits after trying your chicken pasta bake.

“Thinking about keeping me?”

“Maybe” she jokes. “Or bring you over when I don’t feel like cooking”

Of course, Anya doesn’t understand what you’re talking about. She tells you about her day with aunt Yelena and all you have to do is listen and nod.

“I’ll do the dishes” you offer after you finish.

“Come say goodnight to her”

“Will do”

While you clean, you try not to think about what life will be like tomorrow, when you go back to a world where things are different.

“She fell asleep in the middle of a Clifford story” Natasha comes back after a few minutes. “It’s probably because she ate so much”

“I’ll leave the recipe for you” you promise. “Mind if I crash in the couch?”

“Right” the redhead smiles, and you can tell she’s nervous by the way she fidgets with her hands. You reach forward, taking them in yours.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t really sleep without… her”

“I can stay on the bedroom floor”

“I couldn’t possibly ask you to”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering” you assure her.

By the time you’re done with cleaning the kitchen, there’s an inflatable mattress, pillows and a blanket.

“Let me know if you’re comfortable” Natasha asks, turning off the bedroom lights.

“Or what? You’ll let me sleep cuddled up? It wouldn’t be good for the space and time continuum that I kick my own butt”

“I actually think she’d find it funny” Natasha says, and you let her voice lull you in the dark. “She’s probably teasing your Natasha endlessly, trying to get her to admit some sort of feelings for you”

“She has a death wish” you groan, admittedly forgetting that the Natasha you know is having a less than pleasant time right now.

“What is she like?” Natasha says after a few moments of silence.

“She’s the smartest person in any room. Hates cooking and doing dishes. Always looking out for others, always taking on the most missions. She’s really funny too. Sometimes, Bucky will ask anyone for movie recs and Natasha will give a completely made up title. So, Barnes will go crazy looking around for it”

“Oh, I’m so doing that next time” you both laugh.

“Great ass too” you say after a beat and a pillow is thrown across the room and falls right in your face. “Hey!”

“Go to sleep”

—

Next morning, you figure it’s only fair to cook some breakfast before Wong calls you over.

Which, he does, sooner than expected.

Anya is barely finished with breakfast, when Natasha comes down the stairs and looks at you.

“It’s time”

Feeling nervous, and a bit sad, you nod. Wanda shows up a few minutes later. To your shock, in this world, she’s pregnant.

“Thank you for taking care of her, it really won’t take long” Natasha says as soon as she steps inside.

The brunette eyes you curiously, and you can tell by her magic that she knows this isn’t your world.

“You know I’m always happy to”

At the door, Natasha picks up Anya and kisses her everywhere she can. The girl giggles once her mother places her down.

“Hey, bug” you kneel on the floor. “Be good. Your moms will be back soon, ok?”

“Ok, mommy. See you soon”

“Bye, Anya” you say, letting her hug you. Once you’re out the door, Natasha reaches for your hand, and squeezes lightly.

The ride to Bleeker street is silent. Wong seems pleased when he sees you.

“Follow me, ladies” he asks, opening up a portal to Kamar Taj. You’d only been there once; the size of the place always makes you feel like you’re in another planet.

A much older version of America greets you -she’s probably in her twenties- and takes your hand for a second, closing her eyes.

“Ready to go home?” she asks.

“Wait!” Natasha calls behind you and you turn, eyes wide. To your surprise, the woman hugs you, and you wrap her in your arms as well. When she pulls away, she places a small kiss on your cheek. “Anyone would be lucky to have you. She’s an idiot if she can’t see that”

“Thanks, Nat. Not about the idiot part. Be kind to every version of yourself, yes?”

“Fine” she rolls her eyes, squeezing your hand one last time.

You’re about to step into the portal when you turn to America.

“This won’t send me into the middle of a busy road or like, free falling to my death, right?”

“Most likely not” she promises.

You don’t like the sound of that.

“Ok, but on a scale of one to ten…”

“For Agamoto’s sake” Wong sighs behind you, pushing you without warning.

The room is completely upside down and then you land in the middle of the meeting table, the Avengers around you screaming.

“Son of a bitch” Steve says as you roll to the floor, out of air.

“Language” you manage to say. Everyone’s rushing to you. Sam is the first one and he helps you up. They are all talking at the same time, Wanda inspecting the cut on your forehead from falling on the table.

Suddenly, Natasha nudges them aside, wrapping you in her arms.

“Hey, it’s ok. It’s me” you say against her temple.

“We’ll leave you alone. Go to the medbay, though”

“Yes, Cap”

You’re in no hurry, Natasha safely in your arms.

—

“So, what happened while I was gone?” you casually ask as Natasha cleans the cut.

“I almost killed you… her. Twice”

“Sounds like you had fun”

“Not really. She’s a smartass. Can’t cook a damn thing, so I made her a pb&j sandwich”

“Oh, yeah. She’s allergic” you grimace. “Wait, you said you almost killed her twice. If one was with peanut butter…”

“The first thing she did when she came to this world was slap my ass”

“She does have a death wish” you joke, but Natasha doesn’t answer, turning around to put the first aid kit away.

“Is it true?” Natasha asks. You look at her, confused. “Are we married? With a daughter?”

“Oh. Yes, it’s true. They seem to be happy. It was nice”

“Was she better than me?”

“Natasha” you say, forcing her to face you. “I have no doubt in my mind that you’re awesome in every universe. But this version of you is the one I know and love. With your love of spy films, the scar in your belly, and your half smirk when you beat everyone at Uno”

“I am really good at Uno” she agrees and you both laugh.

“Damn right you are”

“I missed you. Too much, to the point where I realise I can’t keep pretending I don’t want this. I’m just scared” she says, holding on to your hands. “Will you help me? Be brave for us”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, love” you promise, kissing her hand softly. “In this, or any other universe”

[imagine-reblog]

Y/N: you are perfect

Lena: (giggles) oh stop

Y/N: no I’m serious. I love your neck freckles. I just want to kiss every single one of them.

Lena: you know my neck freckles go all the way down my back. they could use some kisses too.

Y/N: is the door locked?

Lena: (breathless) yes

[imagine-reblog]

You, singing: I kiss you a merry Christmas, I kiss you a merry Christmas, I kiss you a merry Christmas!

Nat: Those are not the lyrics...

You: Do you want that kiss, Romanoff?

Nat:

Nat: Yes.

You: So kindly shut your mouth, and let me kiss you.

[imagine-reblog]

Wanda: I AM NOT NEEDY!

You: Wanda, you’re the definition of needy. Remember that one time you called me at 3 in the morning to make sure we were still dating?

[imagine-reblog]

Nat: Valentine’s day is just a consumerist holiday that holds no real value other than drive people insane buying heart shaped chocolates for their significant others and pos-

y/n: i made you a card

Nat, already crying: You did?

[imagine-reblog]

Mirror, Mirror | One

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: The thought of something more had never really crossed Wanda's mind when it came to you. Best friends for 10 years and there hasn't even been one instance of accidental sexual tension. You're her best friend, that's all—until someone points out that you obviously have a very specific type when it comes to dating.

Warnings: best friends to lovers. shenanigans. jealousy, jealousy. sexual tension. pining. yearning. sexual thoughts. spicy (tumblr's version). stupid steve. neurotic nat. brat & stinky. bug as in shutterbug.

*explicit version will only be available on Ao3 & will be posted there after series is completed*

Note: i'm back!!! Nothing like coming back and posting a mini series. Enjoy this superior trope. Updates will be on Tuesdays! As you can see, we're trying something new with explicit content lol 😬

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Count: ~4.1k

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It's strange how sometimes a single sentence can change someone's entire life. 

Wanda's thought about what sentences could change her life—usually, they're morbid and depressing.

'You have cancer.'

'Someone you love has died horrifically in an accident.'

'Your cat actually finds living with you miserable and would prefer the dangers of living in the streets.'

Never in a million years would Wanda ever think it'd be, 'Hey, have you ever noticed how your best friend exclusively only dates girls who look like you?'

And don't get Wanda wrong. It wasn't a morbid or depressing change; it was just...a change. An irrevocable change because now, Wanda couldn't stop thinking about it or noticing it. 

This was all Steve's fault. 

Because if someone like Stupid Steve could notice something like that, it had to mean something, right? But as Wanda remembers about the past girls you've hooked up with and brought around, she doesn't know what to make of it.

A part of Wanda wishes she had never talked to Steve that night at the bar. 

"Where's Vis?" Steve asked, looking around.

"With Tony playing pool, I think," Wanda shrugged. She doesn't particularly keep track of where her on-and-off boyfriend goes. She thinks they might be on an off-period right now, anyway. 

"And where's—oh, nevermind, there she is," Steve started to say but cut off when they both saw you across the bar talking with the bartender, flirting over drinks—which were probably free if Wanda could guess. 

Wanda's slightly annoyed because it's been a long week without seeing you, and Wanda's been used to seeing you almost every day for the past several years of her life. But you've been gone on a work trip this week for a wedding shoot and only came home just a little after lunch and needed an immediate long nap before tonight's get-together. 

That meant Wanda was sorely missing out on best-friend time, and now you were off flirting shamelessly with the hot bartender. Wanda's rooting for you, make no mistake. The bartender is definitely easy on the eyes, luscious hair, and lips—something Wanda knows you're weak for. 

Plus, Wanda's worried you're not anywhere near getting close to settling down. She wants you to be in a happy, fulfilling relationship. But she supposes she's in no position to talk herself. 

Wanda loves Vision without a doubt, but their relationship is definitely chaotic, and Vision keeps pushing for something more serious now that they've been dating (sporadically) for a long time. She's been considering it in her downtime and thinks it might make sense as the next step.

Best friends do everything together, right? So, maybe if Wanda decided to take the next step in a serious relationship, you'd find someone to commit to seriously as well. 

Then, both of you could get married at the same time. Then, they could buy a house in the same neighborhood right next to each other. There'd be endless double dates and vacations together. Wanda wouldn't have to miss you.

But first, Wanda needed to regain lost best-friend time, one-on-one style.  

"Hey, you know what I just noticed?" Steve said, breaking Wanda's drifting thoughts. 

"What?"

"Bug—" 

Wanda makes a face at your nickname. Granted, it was Wanda's fault you ended up with it back in your first year of university. You never let her forget it, especially now that you're a professional photographer.

"—over there has a very specific type she goes after for girls," Steve mused, sipping his whiskey before continuing. "I mean, they always have green eyes and brunette—wait, that's not true. She had two red-headed girlfriends in our last year of university. They still had green eyes, though." 

"Oh," Wanda said, unsure what to say since she's never paid attention to the girls you were dating. On average, they were a brief fling, and only a few lasted longer than half a year. "I guess so?"

Wanda distantly thinks about how she dyed her hair auburn in her last year of university because she was looking for a change that year and Natasha was insistent that she'd look amazing. Wanda recalls you were a fan of the look.

"Yeah," Steve nodded along. "Ironically, they always look like you in some way. Check out that bartender now—long, wavy-haired brunette with green eyes. She's got thick, long lips and even does that dark eye-shadow makeup thingy like you."

Steve just laughed it off, finishing his drink, thinking nothing more of it before he started talking about Bucky.

But it was like something clicked into place in Wanda's brain. A daunting realization that she was wholly unprepared for and not equipped to do anything about. 

Wanda watched as the bartender clocked off for the night and dragged you into a corner booth, drinks in hand. It gave Wanda the perfect view that the bartender wore many rings just like she did. 

In the poor privacy of the dimly lit corner booth, there was a staunch and needy kiss from the two of you, and Wanda swallowed roughly. 

From here, if you were none the wiser, Wanda could be easily mistaken for the girl in the booth with you. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Sometimes, Wanda believes she's just being absolutely ridiculous. So what if you go after girls who share the same features as her? That didn't have to mean anything. You've always told Wanda she was beautiful, and it was perfect how you said it. 

It didn't feel insincere or creepy. It felt good to know her best friend thought she was absolutely gorgeous. But just because you thought she was beautiful doesn't mean you harbored secret feelings for her. 

You'd be insulted if you knew Wanda had ever thought that. She'd just be another one of those girls Wanda's seen you humble on multiple occasions when they found out you dated women, and they were worried you might have a crush on them. 

But then, Wanda couldn't stop thinking she actually might be one of those girls because then she'd think about if you didn't consider her like that, it wasn't about her looks but something about her personality that wasn't your type. 

And what could that be?

Wanda thought long and hard, trying to remember the girls you've introduced her to. 

Sometimes they were funny, and Wanda was funny. She made you laugh all the time. She specifically remembered one time in high school when she made you laugh so hard you peed your pants just a little. 

Sometimes they were intellectual, and while Wanda didn't have an IQ of 160, she did fairly well academically and was on the right track in her career. 

Sometimes they were charming, and Wanda was the type where she got more charming the more you got to know her. 

So, Wanda just doesn't understand. She's nowhere further with her thinking ever since this weird information has been bestowed upon her.

Maybe it all just means nothing. You just didn't feel that way about Wanda despite the type of girls you dated suggesting otherwise. You didn't need a reason for it, and maybe the fact you only felt friendship for her was the reason. 

"Wanna order pizza in tonight?"

Wanda turns her head from the tv and notices you've put your book down. "Hm, not really. We had pizza last week," Wanda shakes her head. 

"How about that Greek place that just opened up on Willington Ave?" You suggest. "Pretty sure I heard you grumbling about wanting Greek food earlier this week."

"I was not grumbling!" Wanda scoffs but smiles when you raise your eyebrow at her. "Okay, I was grumbling a little."

You snicker as you pull out your phone to order delivery. "Oh, sweet golden best friend of mine, whatever shall you do when you get married to Vis, who hates Greek food. Do I foresee a life of Greekless cuisine? Oh, the suffering you'll go through!"

"I don't need him to like it," Wanda slaps your arm, sticking her tongue out before she cuddles you. "I have you to eat it with."

You laugh unabashedly, a sound that Wanda's accustomed to hearing the joyful sound. "Better hope the person I marry also hates Greek cuisine. I don't know if I can live a life of eating double the Greek food. I love tzatziki sauce, but if I grow to hate it from eating it too much, I will make you suffer the consequences of that."

Your voice trails off as you focus on ordering food, unable to see the cogs in Wanda's head turning. 

It's all so easy. There's no tension, no electric vibes happening. Just best friends enjoying the banter and making plans to eat. 

It was all in Wanda's head, right? You're her best friend, so of course you'd know everything about her. 

The right type of friendship is fulfilling and soul-connecting, and that's what Wanda has with you. When you have a one-in-a-million connection like that, the line between friendship and romance is thin, isn't it?

Wanda hates Steve. She'd never think about this if it wasn't for Stupid Steve. She can hear his dumb laugh, blissfully ignorant about the observation bomb he dropped upon her. 

"Do you wanna get ice cream after?" You ask, throwing your phone to the side. "I'll even treat you to the gelato despite knowing I'm going to suffer through your crazy farts later."

"Oh my god, I'm going to trap you under the blanket with it just for that!" 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Within two months, Wanda forgets about it. Forgets, as in that she decides to drop it (let it linger in the deep depths of her brain that she refuses to acknowledge), and resolves that Steve has no brain cells and has no idea what he's saying. 

"Have you seen my strapless black top?" Wanda shouts from her room with the door open. "The one with the v-shaped front!"

"In your closet!" You yelled back from the living room, not taking your eyes off your phone. 

"I can't find it," Wanda whines, and she hears you sigh as you get up. The footsteps approach her room, and she finds you standing at the door with an unimpressed look.

"I don't want to hear it," Wanda sniffs. 

"Hear what, brat?" You say with a brow raised before you start rummaging through her closet. The nickname was a joke you started that Wanda was entirely a spoiled person, exhibiting bratty behavior at times. "That I'm not gonna be your roommate forever, so you need to learn to fold it yourself before putting it away?"

Wanda makes grumbling noises that are mostly nonsensical but smiles when you pull out the top she was looking for. 

"You are the apple of my eye, stinky," Wanda grabs the top from you before she runs into her washroom to briefly change into it. 

"A match made in heaven, yeah, yeah," you roll your eyes with good humor. "Hurry up, Natasha will kill us if we're late for Yelena's birthday. They're on an upwards mend in their relationship, so she's been so unbearably uptight lately to make sure nothing goes wrong."

"I know, I know," Wanda mutters, carefully pulling the top over her head to not ruin her makeup. 

"Alright, I'll hail us a cab, meet me outside."

"Wait, wait!" Wanda calls out. "I need help putting on my necklace."

You chuckle, walking back just as Wanda steps out of the bathroom with the delicate necklace she wants to wear. 

"Alright, alright, relax," you tell her. "Your accent gets really strong when you're stressed."

"You're stressing me out by rushing me," Wanda scrunches her nose even though you can't see it. "I'm also stressed knowing that you have to rush me, or I'll spend the party getting lectured by Natasha."

Wanda's voice comes out husked with the accent, something she's struggled between hating or loving, but mostly loving since you've expressed how lovely it is.

You grab the necklace from her hand, and Wanda moves her hair out of the way. The routine of it all starts to bleed the tension out of her shoulders. 

Then, that horrible Stupid Steve Sentence kicks into her brain. 

 It's only as you put your arms over, placing the necklace against Wanda's chest, and focusing on trying to get the clasp in. Wanda can feel your warm breath against her neck, summoning goosebumps along her arms. You're so close, and she can feel the heat of your body radiating onto her, your fingers just barely brushing against her.

The tension comes suddenly, squeezing inside her chest as her breathing slows and shakes. Her body warms in an unexpected way. 

"Ah, got it," you say, but Wanda can only focus on your voice and breath on the shell of her ear. "Cute necklace but the clasp is so annoying."

You pull away and start walking off. "C'mon, I bet if we tip our taxi driver an extra $20 bucks, they'll speed and we can pray we're on time."

Wanda's left standing there, knowing she probably sounds like she's fresh out of Sokovia with how stressed she is. Her right eye twitches.

Was that...Wanda gulps. Was that sexual tension?

And was she the only one who felt it?

Fuck.

She's going to kill Steve.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Natasha's absolutely neurotic when they arrive. It's just a simple backyard party, but it almost looks like a wedding venue with all the catering and flowers. 

Wanda's pretty sure Natasha's only being like this because she's overthinking about whether to cling to Yelena or give her sister some space to mingle with others. She seems to be sizing up Kate, who Yelena might be seeing, but it hasn't been confirmed. 

Yelena looks between exasperated with Natasha and secretly happy about the entire thing. Wanda can sympathize with her. After all, she's also a little sister, and Pietro can also be way too overprotective. Sometimes she's glad he's abroad in Europe for work while she remains in New York, but she misses him more often than she admits. 

"Alright, alright, Natasha," you groan, and Wanda's mind slips back into the conversation. "We're 3 minutes late, relax, will you? Damn, are you always gonna be like this until you and Yelena get back into whatever sibling bond you had before? Hope you're just like this with us because otherwise, you're gonna scare away all her friends, and she's going to hate you."

"Oh my god, do you think she'll really hate me?" Natasha bites her bottom lip in worry while looking around at all the people that they can only assume she's nagged about being late or whatever mishap. 

"Oh, man," you sigh, putting your hand on her shoulders before pushing her towards the bar. "You need some drinks and maybe some desserts in you."

Wanda's about to follow you when you turn around and nod your head in a different direction. She looks over and sees you're nodding toward Vision.

"You should go say hi to him," you tell her. "You've been complaining about not seeing him all last week, even though I don't know why you guys won't just FaceTime, but I digress. Come find me later, or I'll find you after."

You look over at Natasha, who's peering on her tippy toes to see if she can find Yelena.

"And, hopefully, I'll have ditched this nutjob," you whisper conspiratorially and laugh when Natasha turns around to smack your arm. 

"I heard that!"

Wanda chuckles as you walk off with Natasha while she turns and heads toward Vision. Despite how she was complaining about not seeing Vision last week because she did miss him, her expression was sour as she made her way toward him. 

Vision spots her immediately and waves at her with a warm smile. Wanda feels herself somewhat loosened at his expression. They'd also been friends a long time before they started on-and-off dating, so at the very least, she does miss his easy friendship. 

"Hey," Vision hugs her, slightly rubbing her back before he pulls away but keeps his arm around her. "It's been a while; you look lovely."

"Thanks," Wanda smiles with a shrug. She looks around and sees he's standing with Tony and Pepper. "How are you guys?"

"Could be better," Tony sighs dramatically. "Natasha won't let me do any of my cool party tricks as if I'm going to ruin her little sister's party. If anything, I could make it the party of the century!"

Pepper rolls her eyes good-naturedly. "We were just talking about how we're thinking of going to the Bahamas for vacation in December and escaping the cold. We've invited you and Vision along since it's been awhile since we've all gone together. Of course, we can also invite Bug and Natasha."

"Oh," Wanda says for a lack of anything else to say. She doesn't know how to feel about it, but she peers over at Vision, who's just smiling at her and looking eager about it. 

"I need another drink if I'm going to suffer through this party," Tony sighs. "Maybe I can convince Yelena instead!" He grins, dragging Pepper along, and they walk off together. 

"So, what do you think?" Vision asks when they're alone. "I didn't want to reply on your behalf since I wasn't sure, but I think it'd be good for us. I've missed you," Vision pauses as if he's about his next words but then says, "a lot."

"Yeah, me too," Wanda starts to say, but then her brain gets all haywire because it feels like a lie. She did miss him, but did she miss him a lot? "I think."

"You think?"

Wanda wants to smack her forehead because she didn't mean to say that out loud. "I mean, I was complaining a lot that I haven't seen you in a while all last week."

"Yeah, work has just been overwhelming. I get so tired after work, I just can't keep up with the texting or calls."

But you can, Wanda thinks. Granted, you're her roommate, so it's easier. But even when you have to go on work trips, you regularly text her no matter what time and squeeze in a quick call, even if it's just to say goodnight. 

The entire thing makes Wanda bite her tongue because why was she even thinking about that? That was completely irrelevant to Vision. 

Then—because as if just thinking about you wasn't enough—her eyes trail across the room, and the scene before her makes Wanda even more confused about her feelings.

You're standing there with Natasha at the bar, but it looks like Natasha's calling someone over to introduce you to them.

Another brunette with long, wavy hair, like she just had a blowout done. Wanda's not 100% sure from this distance, but she has an inkling that the brunette also has green eyes. She's wearing a white halter top and wide-legged sage green pants. She wears a lot of rings, but her makeup is lighter and more summery compared to Wanda's darker, smokey eye makeup.

In short, this woman was the clean girl aesthetic version of Wanda. 

And you look interested. 

This was ridiculous, Wanda fumes, feeling her stomach sink and cheeks flare hot in anger. As quick as the anger came, it dissipated.

Why was she so angry?

She feels betrayed, and her thoughts are turning very ugly. Wanda is definitely not being a girl's girl right now with how much she's thinking she's better than the girl in front of you. 

But that just makes everything so much more confusing. 

"Wanda?"

Wanda turns her head back to Vision. He looks concerned, and even when his eyes trail toward what Wanda's staring at, there's no additional reaction. He's not upset that she's staring at you, and that has to mean something, right?

It must mean there was never a concern about how Wanda might've felt about you. Sure, there were a few things Wanda couldn't be without, and you were one of them, but nobody can't be without their best friend. 

No one had ever blinked twice about you and Wanda.

Except now.

And that person was Wanda herself. 

The more Wanda thought about the entire thing, the more she became curious. The idea of you dating people who looked like Wanda was intriguing. She wanted to ask questions but didn't know what to ask.

It might mean nothing, but it also might mean something. 

And if it does mean something, Wanda wants to know what exactly it is. 

Therefore, Wanda needs nothing in her way to find out the truth and exactly what she wants, regardless of the answer. 

This was insane, wasn't it? Wanda's always been ambivalent about dating women. She's never gone out of her way to try it since she had Vision. Never mind entertaining thoughts about dating her best (girl)friend. And now, she was giving everything up in the pursuit of finding out what it could mean that her best friend was dating her lookalikes—and why she cared.

Wanda doesn't even know what she'll want to do with that information. 

Wanda looks at Vision, peering at his features she's always found handsome. When she thinks back, she's not even sure why she complained to you about how she hasn't seen or heard from him lately. She hadn't even gone out of her own way to do something about it.

"I'm not going on the trip. I don't think I actually missed you like that."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

The girl introduced to you was named Raye, Natasha's coworker that recently moved from Nashville. It was also confirmed she has green eyes, though they had specks of brown in them. She was a southern belle with a bold attitude, witty, and a wicked sense of humor. All in all, undeniably charismatic. 

At least, that's what you told her in private because all Wanda could feel was unrestricted aggravation with the other girl. The southern twang made Wanda's eye twitch, mostly because she knew you were head over heels for accents.  

"And then before I knew it, I was panicked and more lost than a blindfolded turkey on thanksgiving!"

You burst out laughing while Wanda's expression is stony, but when you look at Wanda, she forces a smile on her lips.

"Hahaha," Wanda dryly let out. "So funny."

But it wasn't. What the fuck did that even mean?

Raye continues to talk while you listen with rapt interest, and Wanda takes the time to observe your features in a way she's done many times before but with a different mindset. 

Your lips are curved in a smile, glistening from your chapstick. They're shapely, and they look soft. It rivals her favorite feature of yours, which is your eyes. They've always been so expressive with her, and Wanda's been around long enough that she knows what every expression means. She can tell when they glint with mischievousness or are soft with immense compassion and empathy. 

"So, what did you think of Raye?" You ask Wanda as you leave the party.

"She's cool, I guess," Wanda answers nonchalantly. 

The rest of the party was excruciating between Raye constantly hanging around you and Wanda also being too nervous to be alone with you. 

"Really cool," you sigh with a grin. "Glad I got her number. It's been a while since I've met someone so funny."

Was she funny, though? Wanda wonders.

"Funnier than me?" Wanda finds herself asking.

"No one could be funnier than you, brat," you smirk. "I almost peed myself laughing again when you almost knocked off Yelena's cake. I thought Natasha was about to enter into a coma." You snicker while Wanda rolls her eyes with a smile. 

"Glad I can always give you the biggest laughs, stinky."

Wanda glances over at your face, recognizing the excitement by the brightness in them. It's just another reminder that, as your best friend, she knows you like the back of her hand. 

But lately, when Wanda watches you pick up girls, she can tell when they're heady with desire. That look hasn't been directed at her, and Wanda wants to know what it'd be like if it were.

Wanda recalls the night you kissed the bartender and imagines if it had been her instead. She pictures your hand sliding across her jaw and cheek while your other pulls her closer at the waist. 

It's horrifying when a slow pit of arousal builds in Wanda's gut and...other regions. It feels utterly frightening and wrong like she's betraying the friendship for having and then reacting to such thoughts about you. 

But there's another part—the part that tells Wanda there's nobody in this world that she loves more than you. The mere idea of ever being apart from you was unfathomable. Wanda could and has endured so many things, and it would always be okay as long as she had you. 

So, knowing that Southern Belle Raye has the potential to be more than a one-night stand to you, Wanda realizes that she has a very small window to not only come to terms with her newfound feelings but also act on them as well. 

If this didn't go well, Wanda would definitely murder Steve.

[imagine-reblog]

Villian!Y/n: I've finally caught you

Wanda: Just do what you want to do to me, I'm not in the mood

Villian!Y/n: Oh? You don't want to play today?

Wanda: No Y/n I don't just get it over with

Villian!Y/n leaning down to Wanda: Who's upset you?

Wanda: What?

Villian!Y/n: Someone's hurt you and only I can do that, so who did it?

Wanda: Vision...

Villian!Y/n: Good, I've been itching to hurt him

Wanda: You're so strange

Villian!Y/n: Like I said I'm the only one who gets to hurt you, no one else

Wanda: That is strangely nice of you

Villan!Y/n: I love our little fucked up interactions

[imagine-reblog]

hi hello 12 from the ship dialogue for Madeleine and Morgan 🥺 (@ do-this-for-me)

Thank you so much @do-this-for-me for the prompt and the soft m feels that went with it!! <33

12. your hugs are nice

Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles Pairing: f!detective (Madeleine Kingston) x Morgan Word count: ~1.4k prompt list here

Where the hell is she?

When they got back from patrol, Morgan directly headed to Madeleine’s room, fully expecting to find her in bed, reading. After knocking a couple times, and getting no answer, she fished her phone out of her pocket and checked the time. It was barely past 10pm and Maddie usually isn’t sleeping yet by then.

The thought had then crossed her mind that she may have gotten a migraine and gone to sleep a little earlier so, quietly, she entered Maddie’s room. Just to make sure that she was okay and that she had everything she needed, but if she was already asleep, she wouldn’t disturb her. She walked to her bed, the soft glow of her phone lighting the room, although she didn’t need it. But all she saw was Madeleine’s empty bed.

 She rushed out of the room and headed for the kitchen. Maybe she was hungry and decided to grab some snacks, but to her utmost disappointment, Nat was the only one there. She was out the door before Nat could even say anything. She turned back and took a couple turns to get to the living room, where she only found Farah, throwing a mischievous glance her way as soon as she stepped into the room. She hustled past Ava on her way to the library, which she found out was dark and empty. No Maddie.

So now, she’s pacing up and down the hallway, racking her brain on Maddie’s possible whereabouts. Her battered car is parked outside so she’s bound to be in the warehouse. These are the three places where Maddie spends most of her time when she’s visiting and, after ruling out the Roof because it’s pouring outside, Morgan is starting to run out of ideas.

The sewing room! 

A few weeks ago, Madeleine asked if it’d be possible to set up a sewing room for her at the warehouse, in case she had to be put on house arrest again. So, these past few days,  they’ve been working on furnishing one of the many empty rooms for her.

Morgan is about to rush over there when her whole body quivers, making her stop in her tracks. As she looks down at herself to realize that she’s still wearing her drenched clothes, she suddenly becomes very aware of the fact that she’s freezing and that she’s probably covered in goosebump under the clothes sticking to her skin. The realization only making her shiver some more.

She eyes the end of the corridor on her left, the one leading to the sewing room, leading to Madeleine, and then her eyes fall on the corridor facing her, where the promise of a warm shower awaits her. As her heart sways between both options, her teeth start chattering, settling the decision for her: she needs to change.

But she doesn’t make it past her doorway.

“You’re here…”

Her voice is barely more than a whisper, yet it’s enough to make the girl tucked up in her bed, glance up at her. With her back resting on the headboard, a plaid thrown over her shoulders and the duvet pulled up to her chest, Madeleine is reading in the exact same position Morgan pictured her in earlier, except that she’s in her bed. 

“I was looking for you”, she wants to tell her, but the words get stuck in her throat. Whether it’s because she’s embarrassed to admit it or because her chattering teeth make it hard to speak, Morgan doesn’t know.

As she steps further into the room, Maddie closes her book, slipping a bookmark in-between the pages, focusing her attention on Morgan. She gives her that smile that brings out her dimples and lights up the whole room. If it was any brighter Morgan would have to look away.

“So…my bed, huh?” The vampire wants her tone teasing, but all she manages in that moment is confusion. Maddie laughs and a wave of warmth washes over her. She’s not cold anymore, or at least that’s what she thought before a shiver makes her whole body visibly shake.

“Want to join me?” Maddie asks, patting the bed.

Morgan is already peeling off her wet clothes. “Thought you’d never ask.” She discards her jeans and top into a puddle on the floor and joins Madeleine under the sheets.

She clenches her teeth when the cold fabric rubs against her skin, but the feeling doesn’t last as she scouts closer to Maddie, her head instantly finding her place in the crook of her neck. Madeleine lets out a gasp.

“You’re cold!” She states the obvious as she rolls out of the vampire’s grasp.

“And you’re warm, come back here!” Morgan says, pulling her back into her arms.

Maddie doesn’t try to get away this time and even brings the vampire a little closer to her, shifting a little so that their bodies fit perfectly together, like two pieces of a puzzle. She brushes away the strands of hair that stick to Morgan’s cheek, her fingers lingering a moment too long. Morgan catches her hand before she can take it away. Pressing a kiss in the palm of her hand, she watches as Madeleine turns that bright shade of pink she’s started to grow very fond of.

“So, how come you’re in my bed? Not that I mind, you’re welcome in my bed anytime, sweetheart…”

Madeleine chuckles a little at the innuendo. “Couldn’t sleep.”

She doesn’t need to explain why she couldn’t find sleep, it’s pretty obvious in the way her hand rests on her stomach, in the thin layer of sweat that covers her face, or in the pillbox she tried to hide under the pillows when Morgan entered the room.

“I know a great way to tire you enough.” She instantly regrets the words coming out of her mouth as she realizes that the lewd comment is probably not what Maddie needs right now.

“I’m sure you do, but that’s not what I was looking for, tonight.”

There’s a moment of silence as Morgan ponders over the best way to offer her some comfort before she figures that asking is probably the best way to understand what Madeleine needs. “And what exactly were you looking for?” 

“You.” 

Morgan is rendered speechless by the confession while Maddie, worried that she’s made a fool of herself, hastily adds something that she doesn’t hear. She sees her lips moving, but all she hears is that single word echoing inside her head. She smiles, and before she can catch herself, she’s planting a kiss on Maddie’s lips. A single peck that leaves Madeleine stunned.

But as silence stretches, Morgan starts to worry. Did I do something wrong? Maybe I should have asked before kissing her. But her worrying is cut short as Madeleine cups her cheek before closing the distance between them. Her lips are gentle and soft against hers  as Madeleine returns the kiss and when she parts away, Morgan yearns for more.

“So, is that a yes?” Maddie asks, her hand still resting on her cheek.

“Huh?”

Madeleine laughs when she realizes that the vampire didn’t get a single word of her little ramble. “I was asking if I could stay here tonight.”

“Well, since you’re looking really comfy in my bed already-” Morgan takes a couple seconds to feign indecision, as if spending the night with Madeleine wasn’t the exact thing she’s been hoping for all evening. “I guess you could stay, sweetheart…”

Pulling her back into her arms, Maddie whispers: “Thank you.” 

Morgan kisses her collarbone in answer and quiet settles back between them.

They stay like this for a while: Morgan’s hands playing with the fabric of Maddie’s nightgown, her lips brushing against her skin anytime she breathes. Madeleine’s fingers tracing the freckles on her face and neck, peppering soft kisses on her forehead when she thinks Morgan is asleep.

The quiet is filled with Madeleine’s presence and Morgan basks in it.

She revels in the soft thrumming of Maddie’s heartbeat against her ear and the warmth of her body against hers. She relishes in the sweet scent of oats lingering on her skin and the soft sound of her breathing as she dozes off to sleep. 

“Your hugs are nice.” The words, spoken in nothing more than a sleepy whisper, break the silence and, for a moment, Morgan wonders if she’s heard them correctly but, Maddie’s arms wrapping tighter around her, leave no space for doubt.

“Yours are really nice too” she whispers back once Madeleine is sound asleep.

[imagine-reblog]

Through the Seasons

Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles

Pairing: F!Detective x Morgan (Neveah Desanto)

Word Count: 2,301

Also Available on AO3

Rating: Teen +, because Morgan is still Morgan.

Description: Morgan doesn't know what to do with grand romantic overtures and impassioned declarations, so the detective shows her affection in little ways.

Summer

Neveah sets down her purse so she can slip on her walking shoes more easily. When she looks up from her task, Morgan is hovering nearby, perched against the railing of the stairwell and partially blocking Neveah’s exit. Usually, any task that has Neveah bending over would have Morgan leering at her but, while Morgan is watching her closely, there is none of that in her gaze today.  

“Where are you going?” Morgan asks. There’s an odd strain to her voice that Neveah can’t quite put her finger on, something between accusation and concern. Neveah smiles sweetly at her. 

“I’m running to the store to pick up a few things,” she explains. “It's nice out so I was going to walk there. I should be back in a couple of hours.”  

“I’m coming with you,” Morgan announces. Neveah stops and turns around to face her, head cocked uncertainly. 

“Are you sure?” Neveah rolls her lips together. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Morgan growls. Neveah clasps her hands behind her back, fidgeting a little as she considers how to phrase this. 

“It’s just that you hate the heat…and the sun…and fluorescent lighting…and crowded places…and human food…and fragranced products—” Morgan cuts her off with a groan and a roll of her eyes. 

“Don’t remind me.” 

“So— not that I mind, I like spending time with you— why do you want to come with?” Neveah presses gently. 

“Because two days ago you were in the middle of a crowd of people who wanted to drain you of every drop of your blood and now you want to go traipsing through the woods by yourself!” Morgan snaps. Neveah’s expression softens in understanding and she steps forward to close the gap between them, one hand reaching out slowly in case Morgan rejects the touch. 

Morgan does her one better, wrapping a hand around Neveah’s waist and pulling her close. She expects a crude comment and cannot cover up her shock when Morgan instead nuzzles into the crook of her neck. Neveah quickly returns the embrace, rubbing a soothing hand up and down Morgan’s back. For a while, they just stay there like that but, eventually, Neveah breaks the silence. She really does need to go to the store. 

“I could ask one of the others to come with me,” she offers gently. Morgan doesn’t understand why the idea pisses her off so much, but she scoffs before lifting her head up to look Neveah directly in the eyes. 

“I’ll be fine,” she snaps, “I’m going with you.” It turns out Morgan doesn’t even need to try making an innuendo. Her warm breath on Neveah’s neck and the intense look in those stormy grey eyes has Neveah’s heart racing and her body pulsing with desire. Her next exhale is a soft, pleasured pant that works wonders for Morgan’s mood. 

“You okay there, sweetheart?” Morgan teases, her usual smirk having settled back onto her face. It takes Neveah a couple of seconds to pull it together, but she nods dumbly and manages to take a step out of their embrace. She bends down again, searching through her purse for the sunscreen she meant to put on before leaving, hoping it will help cool off the heat between them.

 It works for all of five seconds until Neveah locates the bottle of sunscreen and realizes that she can feel Morgan’s gaze on her, intense and wanting once again. Morgan’s been watching since Neveah stepped away, skimming over each line and curve of her body with a familiar lust. The feeling only intensifies when Neveah notices her attention, the detective’s body responding in its usual and inviting way.

“You sure you want to go?” Morgan asks, the suggestion in her tone unmistakable. “I could show you plenty of things to eat right here.” 

Neveah’s first instinct is to shy away, but recently she has discovered that it is very thrilling when she can manage to be a little bolder. She takes a deep breath through her nose to try and recover her composure, but her mouth is so dry she can’t bring herself to respond. Instead, she squeezes out some sunscreen into her hands and starts rubbing it into her legs, hiking up her skirt a little higher. 

Morgan’s face lights up with a genuine smile and the pleasant heat between her legs becomes a desperate aching need. She thoroughly enjoys flustering the detective at every opportunity, but seeing her get the confidence to flirt back? It sparks something more than lust. 

“Or maybe I could help you with your sunscreen?” Morgan offers, a little smugly. “You wouldn’t want to miss a spot. I'll be very thorough.” Neveah’s mind immediately floods with thoughts of Morgan’s hands on her and she rushes through the rest of the application process to try and chase them away. 

Taking another deep breath, Neveah gathers up her things and turns around to face Morgan with a smile. “Alright, let’s go.” 

The two of them enjoy a pleasant silence as they head up the stairs and through the warehouse’s crumbling facade. The heat of the day hits them both like a brick wall once they leave the temperature-controlled part of the building, temporarily deterring either of them from seeking out further warmth from their flirtations. 

Once they reach the main path, Morgan takes her usual place walking along the shady edge underneath the trees. Neveah stays close but keeps to the sunny part of the path. While Morgan’s expression remains in a pinched frown, Neveah seems to adjust to the temperature after a few minutes, tipping her head up and closing her eyes to enjoy the sun on her face. 

Morgan finds herself watching Neveah again, distracted by the peaceful expression on her face and the way she stretches her arms out to let the sun wash over her warm bronze skin. Morgan doesn’t notice the way her own expression eases as the sweltering summer sun becomes less unbearable, or the smile that quirks on her lips when Neveah twirls around happily, the light skirt of her sun dress swirling out around her. 

Morgan’s frown quickly returns once they get into town, though. The concrete and asphalt make the already sweltering heat even worse, and there are too many buildings and too many people. Her expression turns into a full-on scowl at the realization that there is not much in the way of shade for most of the path between here and the store. 

Neveah returns to stand close to Morgan’s side, fiddling with something in her hands. There's a click and, as Morgan goes to wrap an arm around her waist, a patch of shade appears above them. Her skin no longer burns from the direct exposure, and while everything is still too bright, it's a lot more comfortable without the glare of the sun shining directly into her eyes. 

Morgan tips her head up, taking note of the white lacy covering held above them. It's definitely not her style, but Neveah's the one holding it, so she lets that thought go. “You brought an umbrella?”

“It’s a parasol, to keep the sun off you.” Neveah smiles brightly at her. Morgan looks away to avoid the intensity of the feelings that flood her as she slings an arm around Neveah’s waist to pull her close. 

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

Fall 

“If you wanted to see my underwear, all you had to do was ask,” Morgan quips, leaning casually in the doorway to her bedroom. Neveah startles, slamming Morgan’s dresser drawer shut as she lets out a squeak of surprise at being caught.

“Sorry!” 

Morgan raises an eyebrow, inspecting the detective closely. Neveah won’t make eye contact, looking down at the ground in shame. Her hands fidget with the skirt of her sundress, but her pulse races at the flirtation. Morgan would be pissed at anyone else. She should be pissed at the detective— there is exactly one way Morgan likes having people in her business— but she isn’t. 

There isn’t a single mean bone in the detective’s body. Whatever she is up to is probably disgustingly wholesome, and Morgan isn’t really in the mood to deal with the strange combination of feelings that inspires in her. Neveah lets the guilty silence simmer for maybe 45 seconds, which probably feels like hours to the detective. Humans generally aren't fond of sitting in silence, so sitting in shameful silence? They usually act like it's torture, in Morgan's experience. Not only is Neveah too nice for her own good— she has the patience of a saint. 

“I…well…I’m just going to go…if that’s alright?” Neveah’s gaze flicks up but she only makes eye contact for a moment before she looks away again. Morgan turns so there is just enough space for Neveah to shuffle out, but not without brushing up against Morgan on the way out. The flush on Neveah’s cheeks as they press against each other makes Morgan feel better in all the right ways. 

Morgan’s assumption proves correct a few days later when she returns from patrol to find a package of socks in front of her door. The label prominently advertises them as seamless. With a grimace of hesitation, she opens up the packaging to inspect the socks. To Morgan’s surprise, they’re pretty damn close to what she usually wears in color, style, length, and texture, just without the seams along the toes. 

She never thanks Neveah for the socks, but Neveah doesn’t seem bothered by that. The detective smiles a little to herself every time she catches Morgan wearing them, so Morgan figures she already knows.

Winter 

Morgan plods to the foyer to grab her shoes and starts lacing up her boots. She’s due on patrol in a few minutes– not exactly something she’s looking forward to given the weather. Aside from the usual bitter cold of winter, Wayhaven is long past the fresh white snow from the beginning of the season, and at the point where every path is either a densely packed icy death trap or surrounded by a barrier of dirty snow and ice melt crystals. 

“Wait!” Neveah calls from the other room. She scrambles out of the kitchen and into the foyer with as much speed as her weak human body can muster, wobbling when her socks slide on the hardwood unexpectedly. Morgan is at her side in an instant, slinging an arm around her waist to keep her upright. The response is instinctive, and Morgan only realizes what she has done after the fact. 

“Falling for me again, sweetheart?” Morgan covers her confusion with a smirk. The way Neveah’s skin heats and her heart races at the light flirtation washes away any further thoughts on the matter. When Neveah meets Morgan’s gaze her eyes sparkle like she just saved the detective’s life. It sparks amusement, given Morgan has actually saved the detective’s life before, but also...something else. 

It takes a couple of seconds before Neveah remembers whatever sent her running over. She reaches into the pocket of her jacket, pulls out two packets of some sort of cheap industrial-looking fabric, and shakes them before holding them out expectantly for Morgan. Sounds like it’s filled with some sort of powder. 

Morgan raises an eyebrow. “What the hell are these?” 

“These will stay warm for a few hours. So your hands don’t get so cold on patrol.” Neveah holds them out a little further, willing Morgan to take them. She finally does, tucking them into the pockets of her jacket. Then she leans in, her warm breath ghosting over Neveah’s ear. 

“Does this mean I get to give you something to keep you warm?” she whispers, pulling back with a smirk to enjoy the results of her handiwork. Neveah rarely lets her take it further than this, but watching the detective squirm and her pupils dilate with arousal is more than enough to give her a second source of warmth for the evening.

Spring

Morgan almost doesn’t want to interrupt Neveah’s work the view is so nice. She’s on her tiptoes fussing with the side gate of the warehouse. Her usual dress and cardigan have been swapped for tight leggings and a T-shirt, emphasizing some of Neveah’s best assets. 

“What’s all the racket about?” Morgan finally asks. Neveah flinches, the ladder wobbling slightly, but thankfully holding firm, before she recognizes Morgan’s voice. 

“Sorry, I was hoping you were out on patrol.” Neveah looks back at her with an apologetic smile that always makes Morgan feel a little bad about whatever snarky comment she’s just made. She shoves her hands in her pockets, shaking her head in dismissal. 

“It’s fine. I was looking for you anyway." Her smile brightens immediately, and Morgan is satisfied with the strange feeling it inspires in her chest. 

A comfortable silence settles between them. Morgan savors the moment before her curiosity wins out. “So, you gonna tell me what you’re up to?” she prompts. 

“Oh! Yeah.” Neveah seems to just remember what she was doing. She grabs some sort of spray can and faces it in Morgan’s general direction in demonstration. “The hinge on the gate squeaked when I opened it, so I was just fixing it.” 

Morgan raises an eyebrow. “You know the Agency has people to do that kind of stuff, right?” 

“I know, but the sound was really shrill and I wasn’t sure they’d want to send someone out quickly for such a minor issue.” 

“The noise bothered you that much?” Morgan asks. Neveah usually has the patience of a saint, including a frankly ridiculous tolerance for obnoxious noises. She shakes her head. 

“Not really,” she admits, “but I know it’s the kind of stuff that bothers you.” 

"How do you feel about sex on a ladder, sweetheart?"