#On one side. I love working on the Behind The Codes

[cherrysolo]

lu x humanities/social science reader where you teach him concepts in your major and yap about social, cultural implications of stuff, etc. he listens to you so intently because he is interested in it but mainly because it's you talking about something you're passionate about. this man is part sapiosexual imo, meaning he's attracted to intelligence. he loves hearing you ramble on about whatever the hell it is. But also, he teaches you some coding stuff or you guys make some cool shit together. idk anything about that stuff but i'd imagine he would show you how to do some stuff. he'd encourage you and be such a good teacher!

bed chem

warnings: smut lol

soooo I kinda took this request and ran with it hehehehehehhe hope u enjoy <3

you were sitting in your dorm with your boyfriend luigi, studying for a psychology midterm. while he was working on some coding, you were stuck trying to remember different behaviour theory terms. memorizing definitions and theories gave you a migraine, and you loved pursuing your neuroscience degree but it could be difficult for most of the time. you let out a huge sigh,

“what’s wrong angel?” luigi stops typing on his laptop and turns to you.

“hmmm just feeling kinda dumb, I can’t seem to focus on studying,” he sighs and moves closer to you,

“don’t talk down on yourself baby, sometimes you just need a break or look at things from a different perspective,” he encourages you and presses his hand on your shoulder, rubbing slightly. “maybe you need a partner, or a visual, or both?” he hums moving closer to you.

“I don’t know, I can’t take you away from your work,” the frustration in your voice makes his heartache. he wants to make you feel better, and make you forget about the stress that consumes your mind.

“don’t worry about me baby, let’s focus on you,” he moves up to sit behind you, basically sitting on his lap now. his hands grip your hips to pull you closer into him. You part your knees on either side of him and situate comfortably on him, your ass is swell to his core.

“so you’re studying behavioural styles?” quirking his head to look at your laptop, you nod.

“well, let’s start with what behavioural styles are?” his hand slowly starts moving from your waist up to under your breast. your breath hitches, “uh, well, behavioural styles are used to describe how people tend to interact with others, umm make decisions, and uh approach tasks.” you answer with a stuttering breath. his hand finally squeezes your breast slightly, starting to pepper kisses on your neck. “smart girl, let’s do some more, sound good?” you hum quietly, “can you use your words, baby?”

you nod quickly, “yeah that’s good” his hand lowers from your chest and moves to your hip again,

“what are the four behavioural styles?” you clear your voice, his touch is sending goosebumps across your body.

“uh well, the first one is, uh dominance because people are -oh um” you sigh as he rests his hand on the top of your shorts, tapping his fingers above your pubic bone.

“what was that baby?” you can hear his smug smile behind you, he was such a tease.

“uh it’s because people are influenced by power and uh control,” you blurt out quickly as he presses a kiss to your neck.

“good job, continue,” he lowers his fingers into your shorts but not yet touching where you need him most.

“the next one influence, uh because- oh god,” you moan out as he places his fingers on your clit.

“why’d you stop baby, keep going” he whispers as he slowly rubs you. your breathing becomes rigid, you can’t believe he’s doing this to you.

“because people need relationships to thrive, and uh you know, recognition and love,” your brows furrow trying to concentrate.

“good job baby, you’re so smart,” he clears his throat and continues to decent up to remove your top, motioning you to lift your arms. once your top is gone, he goes back to your core. his lips reattach to your neck, sucking purple marks into it.

“right, there’s also the steadiness style, oh fuck,” you curse because of his fingers begin to remove your shorts, you lift your hips up to let the cool air hit your clenched core.

“continue, what is it for?” he questions, pressing his fingers back to your clit, smearing around the wetness.

“it’s um, because people are driven by stability, they want community,” you whine out. “ that’s right, my smart girl, you deserve this now,” he says as he plunges a finger into your soaked core and curls it upwards.

“oh god lu, please” you praise wanting more.

“next one baby, then I’ll add a finger,” you breathe in and out through your nose, finding the strength to answer the final question.

“oh- uh- the final one is conscientious type.” you breathe out.

“good girl, continue,” he begins to quicken his movements.

“they uh are driven by accuracy, quality, and knowledge.” you quickly get out, and he pauses his movements to motion you to continue.

“they tend to be analytical, detail-oriented, and uh they enjoy solving problems and making logical decisions. uh like you lu,” you mumble out as he adds a second finger. the noise of wetness filling the air,

“such a good and smart girl you are, fuck,” he praises you while moaning out.

“hmmm see you just needed some help,” he continues to praise you as you clench around his fingers. your brain is completely empty at this moment in time, only concentrating on reaching your peak. his thumb hits your clit and a familiar feeling fills your stomach.

“lu, please, I’m so close,” your incoherent babbling is enough of a signal for him to quicken his pace.

“you’re my good girl, c'mon just let go, you deserve it,” as those words are let out, your orgasm takes over. your chest is heaving and you feel dizzy. you lean over to look up, and place a quick kiss to his mouth, “I love you lu, you really know how to help a girl study,”

“I love you too baby, next time you can help me,” you both end up laughing in each other's arms.

[aesthetically-dying101]

Wifed Up (extended)

A/N: i felt bad for excluding Choso and Hiruguma so i'm fixing my sins, angst ahead, but happy ending

Wifed Up.

Characters: Choso and Hiruguma

Hiromi Higuruma stood frozen in the dim bathroom, his breath coming shallow and uneven as he stared at the small ceramic dish by the sink. The bandage he’d come looking for was long forgotten, the paper cut on his finger dripping faint smudges of red onto the countertop. He didn’t notice.

All he could see were the rings.

Your rings.

Your engagement band, delicate and familiar, nestled perfectly against the gold wedding ring he had slid onto your finger with trembling hands not so long ago. The sight of them sitting there together, so casually discarded, made his chest feel tight, constricting like a vice.

Hiromi knew he was overreacting.

Knew it in the same way he knew it was irrational to feel a flare of panic whenever he didn’t see your car in the driveway right away or when you didn’t answer his texts promptly.

But knowing didn’t stop his mind from spiraling.

The house was quiet—too quiet. The stillness pressed in on him, filling the space where your laughter or humming or the soft rhythm of your footsteps should have been. You weren’t here. And worse, you hadn’t told him where you’d gone.

He leaned heavily against the sink, gripping the edge as if anchoring himself. His rational side—the one that argued cases in court and dismantled testimonies with surgical precision—urged him to calm down, to think it through.

But the other part of him, the insecure part he hated to admit existed, whispered insidiously: She doesn’t love you anymore.

Hiromi’s stomach churned.

He thought about the cases he’d been working lately—the divorce proceedings, the infidelity accusations, the custody battles that turned people into strangers. He thought about the bitter, exhausted faces of the clients who sat across from him in his office, recounting stories of betrayal and abandonment.

He thought about the long hours he’d been putting in recently, leaving you alone too often. About the way your smiles had seemed a little smaller, a little dimmer, when he dragged himself home after midnight.

And now… your rings.

His mind went there, unbidden: the worst-case scenario, the one he couldn’t stop picturing. You, meeting someone else. Someone who had more time for you. Someone who made you feel seen in a way he hadn’t been able to lately.

The thought made him feel sick.

Hiromi straightened abruptly, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He couldn’t stay here, couldn’t stand in this empty bathroom with those damn rings staring back at him. He paced into the hallway, the hardwood floor creaking under his weight, his ears straining for any sign of you.

Nothing.

He checked his phone, scrolling through your last messages, reading them over like they held some kind of hidden code. They didn’t. The last thing you’d sent was a simple, casual text: Running errands, don’t wait up.

Running errands.

What kind of errands require taking off your wedding ring?

He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to breathe deeply, evenly. He wasn’t this kind of man—jealous, paranoid. He’d always prided himself on trusting you implicitly. But tonight, something inside him felt frayed, unraveling at the edges.

The sound of the front door unlocking cut through his spiraling thoughts like a gunshot. Hiromi stiffened, his head snapping toward the sound. A moment later, the door creaked open, and he heard the soft shuffle of shoes being kicked off, followed by your familiar voice.

“Hiromi? You home?”

He couldn’t answer.

His throat felt tight, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. Relief that you were back, anger at the hours of silence, fear at the implications of the rings you’d left behind.

You appeared in the doorway moments later, your hands full of shopping bags and your hair slightly disheveled. You smiled when you saw him, the kind of easy, radiant smile that had always been your default. But tonight, he couldn’t quite bring himself to return it.

“Hey,” you said, setting the bags down on the counter. “What’s wrong? You look—” You stopped mid-sentence, your gaze falling to his bandaged hand. “What happened to your finger?”

Hiromi ignored the question, his voice low and strained. “Where were you?”

The shift in his tone made you pause, your brow furrowing.

“What?”

“Where were you?” he repeated, sharper this time, his eyes searching yours. “You didn’t tell me you’d be gone so long.”

“I told you I was running errands,” you said slowly, clearly confused by his intensity.

“And your rings?” He gestured toward the bathroom, his hand trembling slightly. “Why would you take them off? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Realization dawned on your face, and your eyes softened immediately. “Oh, Hiromi…”

“You didn’t think I’d notice?” His voice cracked, and he hated it, hated how small and vulnerable he sounded. “Or did you just think I wouldn’t care?”

“Wait, you think—” You cut yourself off, taking a step closer to him, your hands lifting as if to calm him. “Hiromi, it’s not what you’re thinking. I—”

“Then explain,” he demanded, his voice raw. “Because I’ve been running every scenario in my head, and none of them are good.”

Your lips parted, and for a moment, you just looked at him, taking in the tension in his shoulders, the pain in his eyes. When you spoke, your voice was quiet but firm.

“Come here.”

He didn’t move.

“Hiromi,” you said again, stepping closer, your hands reaching for his. “Let me explain.”

Reluctantly, he let you take his hands, your thumbs brushing over his knuckles. “I was working on something for you,” you said softly. “For our anniversary.”

He blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“Pottery,” you clarified, your lips quirking into a small, apologetic smile. “I’ve been taking classes, and I wanted to surprise you. I was making you a coffee cup, and I didn’t want to ruin my rings with clay.”

His throat felt tight again, but for a different reason this time. Relief washed over him, leaving him almost dizzy.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

“Because I wanted it to be a surprise,” you said, squeezing his hands. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I’m so sorry, Hiromi.”

He exhaled shakily, his head bowing forward until his forehead rested against yours. “I thought… I thought I was losing you,” he admitted, the words breaking apart as they left him.

“Never,” you whispered, your hands moving to cradle his face. “You’re not losing me. You’ll never lose me.”

You guided him gently to sit on the edge of the bed, pushing him back just enough to loosen the tension in his frame. “Relax,” you murmured, your hands trailing to his tie.

“Y-You don’t have to—” he started, but you cut him off with a soft smile.

“Tell me about your day,” you urged, undoing the knot of his tie with practiced ease.

“I…” He faltered, but the warmth in your gaze encouraged him. As he spoke, hesitantly at first, your hands moved lower, undoing his zipper and grounding him in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

By the time he was done, his heart no longer felt like it was on trial.

Choso’s gaze was glued to the nightstand, where the broken chain lay, said chain that was usually around your neck. His breath hitched in his throat as his hands trembled, hovering over the delicate rings.

Her rings.

His heart pounded wildly in his chest, the frantic beat drowning out every other sound in the room.

He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t understand. The metal chain, which had once held the most precious pieces of his life—his wife’s wedding and engagement rings—was now severed. The clasp had snapped, the delicate connection that held them together shattered. And that was the only thing that made sense.

But why were they there?

The rings never left her neck. Never. He could recall countless nights when he would find her sitting on the couch, fingers absently tracing the smooth metal of the rings. It was a comfort to her, just like it was to him. Or the times where that chain was the only he could focus on when she rode him. So why were they on the nightstand now? Why was the chain broken?

His mind raced, a thousand thoughts all crashing into each other, none of them making sense. The last time he had seen her, she had been perfectly fine—his Y/N. She had kissed him goodbye, smiled that soft smile of hers that made his heart flutter every time. She promised she would be back soon, but now…

Choso’s head spun.

Was she leaving him?

No. No, that couldn’t be right. She wouldn’t do that. She loved him. She had to.

But the image of the broken chain and the empty rings haunted him. She was gone. She must’ve left him. His hands clenched into fists, fighting back the lump in his throat, the panic that threatened to suffocate him. He had fought countless curses, stared down monsters and gods alike—but this… this was different. This wasn’t some mindless creature.

This was her.

And losing her—that was a battle he didn’t know how to fight.

His chest tightened with a pain that had nothing to do with physical wounds. His pulse raced, and for a moment, it felt like the air was being sucked out of the room. He stood frozen by the nightstand, his mind trying desperately to piece everything together, but all he could focus on was the fear that gripped him—the overwhelming terror that he had done something wrong, something unforgivable.

He couldn’t stand it any longer. He needed answers.

Where was she? Why wasn’t she back yet?

He needed her to tell him everything was okay, that the rings didn’t mean what he thought they did.

But before he could spiral any further, he heard the faintest click of the door, followed by the sound of soft footsteps in the hallway. His breath caught in his chest.

Was she back?

The door opened slowly, and his heart leaped into his throat. There she was. Standing in the doorway, her eyes meeting his, but there was something in them—something unreadable. His heart fluttered, but the same suffocating dread still gnawed at him.

You closed the door quietly behind you, your gaze flicking to the nightstand, where the broken chain lay. Choso didn’t move. He couldn’t. His body was frozen, his breath shallow, as his eyes flicked between you and the rings.

"Y/N..." His voice cracked. "Where… where were you? Why are the rings… why are they on the nightstand?" His words were desperate, choked with emotion.

You took a deep breath, stepping closer, your fingers slowly running over the broken clasp on the chain. The sight of the broken metal seemed to deflate some of his frantic energy, but the tension still gripped his chest.

"Choso…" You began softly, your voice soothing but firm. “It’s not what you think.”

His brow furrowed as he stared at the broken chain, his mind still spinning, still fighting against the fear. “Then… what is it? Why are they—”

“They broke.” You cut him off, holding the chain up to his eye level, showing him the clasp that had snapped. “It wasn’t intentional, Choso. It’s old. It just gave out.” You reached out, placing your hand gently over his. “I wasn’t trying to hide anything.”

His gaze remained fixed on the chain, his breath steadying as you spoke, but there was still a sharp edge of doubt in his eyes. He wasn’t sure whether to believe you, but your touch, the warmth of your skin against his, was grounding him.

“Y/N…” His voice dropped to a whisper, his tone heavy with the weight of his emotions. “I thought… I thought I’d lost you.”

You let out a small, pained laugh, lifting his chin so his eyes met yours. “I’m not going anywhere, Choso. I swear.”

But still, there was something in his gaze—something that made it clear he wasn’t fully convinced. His eyes searched yours, looking for something, anything that could reassure him. The rings had always been there. They were your rings, symbols of a bond that had been forged in love and trust. And now, with the chain broken and his mind racing with a thousand doubts, he feared the worst.

He stepped forward, his hand reaching for your waist, pulling you into him as if the sheer force of his grip would keep you there, right in front of him.

“Please, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice thick with vulnerability. “Don’t leave me.”

You cupped his face gently, brushing your thumb across his cheek, smiling softly at his desperate need for reassurance. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for making him feel this way, even though you knew there was nothing to apologize for.

“I’m here, Choso,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his forehead. “I’m here, and I always will be.”

He closed his eyes, his body finally relaxing against yours, his heart beginning to calm, though the fear still lingered like a shadow. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the lingering anxiety, as if he was waiting for something to prove that you wouldn’t disappear again.

But before you could reassure him further, his lips found yours in a kiss that was both frantic and tender. The moment your lips met, the world seemed to stop—his hands cupped your face, holding you as if his life depended on it. He kissed you like a man starved, pulling you closer, as if he needed to absorb every ounce of you to make sure you were real. His kiss was deep, searching, and it made your heart race in return.

You responded in kind, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair, the softness of his locks contrasting against the urgency of his kiss. You could feel his breath quicken, his heartbeat pounding against your chest as he tried to ground himself in the reality that you were there with him, not leaving.

He pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, breathing heavily. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

A soft smile played on your lips as you ran your fingers along the outline of his jaw, your thumb tracing the sharp curve of his cheekbone.

“You’ll never have to find out,” you whispered, your voice gentle, but unwavering.

Choso’s hands slid down your body, pulling you even closer, the tension finally ebbing away as you melted into him. His lips trailed down to your neck, pressing soft, slow kisses along your skin. The touch was slow at first, almost reverent, as if he were savoring every moment of having you near. But as the kiss deepened, the heat between you both ignited, a fire that burned away the remnants of doubt.

“Let me make it up to you,” he murmured against your skin, his hands moving with a purpose now, gently but insistently.

You arched into him, your breath hitching at the intensity of his touch. “Make it up to me?” you teased, your hands trailing down his back, feeling the muscles tense beneath your fingertips. “You don’t have to.”

But Choso’s grip on you tightened, and he pulled you closer, his voice low and rough. “I need to show you how much you mean to me. How much you always will.”

You let out a soft laugh, lips curling into a smile as you tangled your hands in his hair once more, pulling him into another kiss, this one slow and deliberate. His hands roamed over your body, taking his time, as though every inch of you was something he cherished. His lips found yours again, a kiss that was deep, full of love, full of desperation and need.

The night stretched on like that, the broken chain forgotten, the rings still lying on the nightstand, waiting to be fixed. But in that moment, none of it mattered.

You were there. He was there. And nothing could tear you apart.

A/N: yayyy, i hope y'all liked it, the choso one is so corny

Masterlist

:)

[averlym]

litany of the martyrs (click for better resolution!)

[sysig]

Guess who :3c (Patreon)

[rafesangelita]

…DILF!RAFE X HOUSEBUNNY!READER AU

⋆𐙚₊˚🐰⊹♡

DILF!RAFE X HOUSEBUNNY!READER who spend their days fucking like rabbits. whether rafe had her clinging onto his bed sheets for dear life, or muffling her screams while he drilled into her poor cunt, he knew he had hit the jackpot when she was deemed useful in more ways than one. housebunny!reader who worked as a cart girl at the country club for only two days before rafe whisked her away and turned her into his pretty maid. with his kid out of the house for school, rafe enforced a strict dress code that kept her catering to him in mini skirts, thigh high stockings, heels, and maybeee a lacey bra (he preferred her to be topless most of the time). dilf!rafe who took care of absolutely everything; hair appointments, lash appointments, nail appointments, wax appointments, he made sure to always have his bunny in tip top shape, according to his liking.

DILF!RAFE X HOUSEBUNNY!READER who always get concerning glares whenever they’re out in public. here you have rafe always dressed in business casual, his clothes ironed flat without a single wrinkle in sight, courtesy of housebunny of course, and then you have the girl at his side that’s all glitz and glamour, her outfit drawing the attention of every single person in the same room. dilf!rafe who has an intense housewife + breeding kink, always telling bunny that he’s gonna keep her in the house forever while he’s balls deep inside of her. she never opposed the idea, the vision only making her warm, velvety walls clench around him even tighter. housebunny!reader who made rafe’s favorite meals, loving the way he nodded approvingly while he chewed. “you’re just too good to be true.” her heart is fluttering in her chest at his words, the praise not going unnoticed. dinner was always delicious, but dessert was even better.

DILF!RAFE X HOUSEBUNNY!READER who are sooo playful behind closed doors, rafe finds himself full on giggling before he’s masking his laughter with a serious expression so bunny doesn’t think he’s too soft. dilf!rafe who has the music taste of a frat boy in college, cursing under his breath as bunny sings along to the explicit lyrics booming throughout the house. “pretty girls don’t have filthy mouths.” he’s reminding her, smirking to himself when he see’s her sparkly lips come to a stop. housebunny!reader who does literally everything rafe asks her to do. “..sooo you want me to walk around with bunny ears, and that thing?” rafe is living for the hesitation on her face, and the fact that he knows she won’t tell him no. the following night, he manages to get the cute little bunny tail right where he wants it, housebunny!reader loving it more than she thought she would..

DILF!RAFE X HOUSEBUNNY!READER who plan bunny’s outfits for the week (it’s just an excuse for her to give him an unsolicited fashion show). “i would rather you wear nothing at all..” rafe grumbles when she comes out of his closet in an assortment of clothing. housebunny!reader who slips pink sticky notes into rafe’s pocket before going to work so he could find them throughout the day. ‘can’t wait to be your slutty lil’ bunny later ♡’ rafe is excusing himself from his meeting, sending her a text message that easily gets her needy. ‘just read your note. you‘re gonna be so fucked out by the time i’m done with you.’ she shoots him a quick ‘promiseee? ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა’ before squealing in excitement when he reacts to her message with a thumbs up. it’s not long before rafe gets home and has her legs on top of his shoulders, her knees knocking against her chest while he’s wiping away her tears of pure unadulterated pleasure with his thumb.

DILF!RAFE X HOUSEBUNNY!READER who are equally as nervous to have rafe’s son back home, unsure of what the small boy might think. housebunny!reader who nearly cries when she overhears little ray say she looks like a princess with her ‘pink puffy dresses’. dilf!rafe who is relieved and overjoyed that his boy adores her so much, since that was all he was waiting for in order to make her his, officially at least, since he already thought of her as such. housebunny!reader who wakes up to the smell of breakfast wafting up from downstairs, her eyebrows knitting in confusion as she wraps her fluffy robe around her body. “what are you doing?” she’s taking in the view of a shirtless rafe drinking out of a coffee mug, taking her bottom lip between her teeth. “making you breakfast since you’re not just my house bunny anymore..” at his words, you smiled. “just bunny then?” he hummed, “just bunny.”

౨ৎ just dilf!rafe making sure everything is to his liking when his precious little bunny comes home from all of her beauty appointments!

[tellafairy]

thoughts on shifting + manifesting with ease. (as someone who's shifted many times, alongside manifesting)

coming back to this side of tumblr after spending years away from it has made me realized how many of you are truly the problem, it might sound kinda harsh but really. so many of you ask the same questions over and over again.. "but HOW do i do it?" "how do i shift" "how do i manifest" JUST DO IT. stop looking for signs, stop looking for methods or "cheat codes". just do it man.

your mind is so powerful and it actually kinda irritates me how many of you doubt it, just because it "seems to easy". you don't understand how you've been manipulated by society to not see your power. how have you been on loa social media, shifting social media, for soooo long — yet still don't see it?? let me tell you..

the moment i got off social media, the moment i took time to erase everything in my head and stop overthinking everything, was the moment everything came to me. i already had it, i just needed to stop telling myself i didn't.

it took me barely any time to get used to convincing myself i had everything i wanted, i shifted to my desired realities, and everything worked out in my favour. AFFIRMING IS ALL YOU NEED. I AM YELLING AT YOU. JUST AFFIRM.

really, please, affirm. the routine is so simple.

1. any bad thought is instantly turned positive.

ex: "i really want her waist"

to

"am i stupid ... i have her waist.. tbh mine even looks a little better.. am i crazy?? like actually? this must be a glitch or something cause my waist is practically identical to hers.. i literally love my waist"

exaggerate, say what you need to say to erase the negativity.

2. it's yours, so act like it..

ex: talk about ur DR normally. it's your reality, not a fantasy land you made up in a dream. ITS REAL. it's a reality. for example, i'd watch videos of my s/o in this reality, and speak about our lives in my dr. "i can't wait to see __ tonight... god i love __, it's so nice hanging out with them everyday.. wow they look so pretty in this video — i'm so lucky their mine". it's natural, they're yours aren't they? exactly, so act like it.. this is used the exact same way when manifesting..

you see someone with something you want? thinking of something you wanna do? something you wanna be? ... it's urs... so can you act like it?? like whyre u feeling sad someone else got a job promotion 😹😹 you literally got a better one ...

3. that's literally it

you don't need a fancy method (although it can give u some peace of mind.. let's be real, a lot of methods set y'all back and make you overwhelmed, blocking ur beliefs and making everything seem harder). you literally just need to live. tell yourself it's done, over and over again. nothing matters. it's done, it's yours, you have it, you're happy and fulfilled. other peoples sucess should really mean nothing to you negatively. it shouldn't make you stressed, shouldn't make you feel behind.. why would it when you have everything, you can do everything, go anywhere, and you can be anything.

it'll seem like manifesting blogs and shifting blogs just repeat the same things.. which is true, they do, because i'm telling you there's nothing more to it than what you've already read. it is that easy. all it takes is your mind. decide, and tell yourself.

as i said before, it took me barely anytime to switch my mindset once i actually started focusing on myself, my journey and not every body else's results. repeating stuff to yourself WORKS. repeating is literally ALL i did. choose what i want, told myself it's mine in any way i could describe it. and there, it's mine. ive shifted to many different realities, along side gaining a better life in this one after years of convincing myself there was nothing for me. if i can break out of the cycle, trust me you can too. i cannot describe how desperate i was at the beginning, how long i took in false info and wasted time on methods all while doubting every single thing.

so why don't you believe it? you'll sit there and tell yourself over and over again that you're ugly, or broke, or friendless... but you won't tell urself that you've shifted? that you have your dream body...? girl okay i guess....

once you realize nothing besides your mind truly matters, is when you'll be free with yourself. circumstances don't matter, past feelings don't matter, doubts don't matter, your mind is all you need.

yes this is just loa explained longer, that's the point of the post because some of u still can't get it in ur heads

[inotakumagf]

find me in the future

✶ sylus qin x gn!reader

word count ✺ 2.1K

summary ✺ you wake up next to sylus. the only problem is that you don’t know how you ended up in his arms.

warning ✺ teeny tiny bit of angst, but it all works out in the end. description of injuries & fighting. i was very inspired by would you fall in love with me again? from epic the musical and s2e7 of arcane iykyk.....sylus is so soulmate-coded. reblogs & comments are very appreciated! :)

You wake to a warm body pressed against your back. You nuzzle further into your plush pillow at the feeling, resting your hand over the strong arm across your waist. It's almost enough to lull you back to sleep. But your eyes snap open, and you jerk away. Now that your brain is not muddled with sleep, you remember that you went to bed alone. Because you have no one to share it with. 

“Sweetheart? Is everything alright?” The voice is rough with sleep, but very familiar. 

You sit up, turning to stare at the figure that was spooning you from behind. You fumble for your nightstand to flick on the switch of your lamp. It takes you a moment to find the switch and when you do, you squint at the brightness.

You blink at the man staring up at you. It’s Sylus. You know Sylus. But why is he in your bed? Why is his arm reaching out to rub against your skin? And why is he staring at you like you hung up the stars?

“I…” You don’t know what to say. He’s not the type of person to just show up in your bed uninvited. Did you go out drinking, without remembering? Did you…? 

“Did you have a nightmare, sweetheart?” He sits up and pulls you into his arms, running his large hand over your skin in comfort.

You watch as he does so, staring at the way his hands knead over you with so much familiarity. That’s when you notice the band on his ring finger. 

Your eyes widen in surprise. He’s married? You’ve never noticed him wearing a ring before, and you feel discomfort settling in your stomach at the sight of it now. He has a spouse, and yet he’s here with you.

Sylus presses a kiss to the side of your head. “Darling, I can practically hear you thinking hard. What’s wrong?”

“I can’t…” Your heart is hammering at a fast past as you try to remember how you got here. Why can’t you remember, and why is Sylus still touching on you so sweetly? The last time you had seen him, you were visiting the N109 Zone before your mission. There had been no kisses or sweet talk then. 

You rub your hands over your face roughly, and the pressure is enough to confirm that this is not a dream. Cool metal contrasts over your warm skin, and when you stare down at your hands, it starts to click together in your head.

There is a ring and wedding band on your ring finger to match Sylus’s. He runs his hands over yours soothingly, and you can see just how well his hands mold into yours. Your breath hitches with emotion.

Your confusion overwhelms you. You’ve barely been able to hold a conversation with Sylus and suddenly you’re married to him? 

The man drops his head to your shoulder and presses kisses along the skin until he reaches your jaw. “Sweetheart, you’re worrying me. Are you falling ill?”

He leans closer before pausing. His crimson eyes find yours. You can feel the warmth of his breaths. Just an inch more, and you’d be kissing him. You feel heat rush over you at the thought. You can’t lie and say you’ve never thought about what kissing Sylus would feel like. But even after becoming friendlier with the Onychinus head, he’s never indicated any affection towards you in that way.

“Is this alright?” He whispered against your skin.

You hesitate. This Sylus wants to kiss you, but only because he thinks you’re his spouse. You are an entirely different person than who he believes, and the thought of kissing him under questionable circumstances feels wrong.

You pull back slightly. “Sorry, I just…I don’t think I feel well.”

He smiles softly at you, an expression you’ve never seen on him before. “Don’t apologize, sweetheart. Shall I fetch a cool towel for you? Or some tea? What can I do to make you feel better?”

You open your mouth to respond, but the sound of a radio crackles to life. You can hear a baby screaming. Your body is on high alert at the sound, but Sylus just chuckles and throws the duvet off of his side of the bed.

He leans over to press a kiss to the top of your head and says, “Rest. I’ll check on Josephine.”

When he leaves, it takes you a full moment to recover. Josephine? Not only are you married, but you have a baby girl too? How could you forget something like that? Once your mind clears, you follow Sylus out of the room. It’s hard to navigate the unfamiliar home, especially in the dark. But you follow the wailing of the baby to a nearby room. The door is slightly ajar, and you can hear Sylus’s deep voice.

“I’m right here, peanut. Nothing will ever harm you, not with me to protect you. I don’t suppose you’ll finally let me sing you to sleep? I swear I’ve been practicing.”

Even though she can’t understand him, baby Josephine gurgles a response.

You push the door open the rest of the way. Sylus is standing over a crib with a one year old in his arms. He turns at the creak of the door. The little girl has your hair texture in a silver shade that matches her father. You step closer slowly. You lift your hand to run the knuckle of your index finger over her smooth cheek. She turns her head so that she can gnaw on your finger. You smile softly at her.

“You should have stayed in bed, I can lull her back to sleep. You’ve had a long day.”

You stare down at the baby and then up at Sylus. You can feel tears accumulating, so you look back down to hide them. “I just wanted to see her.”

Sylus shifts Josephine so that she’s cradled securely in his left arm, and he uses the other arm to bring you close to his side. He kisses your forehead and keeps his lips there, causing your eyes to flutter shut. You could get used to this very easily. 

You would have never thought that the stoic and grumpy man would ever behave like this. You wish you could remember how you got to this moment, if only to understand how Sylus’s attitude towards you could change so drastically.

It's not that he is hateful or rude, he’s just very closed off, and all your attempts at getting to know him better are always shot down. 

Sylus sighs and mumbles into your skin, “You don’t have to tell me what’s bothering you now, but promise you’ll come to me if you need to let it out. I hate seeing you so upset.”

You nod as much as you can in his hold. Josephine has fallen back asleep with the gentle rocking that Sylus has been doing, so he lowers her back into her crib.

Once she’s down, he turns to you and sweeps you off your feet. You gasp and wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself. You shoot him a glare, but he just chuckles and nuzzles his nose into your skin. 

“‘M sorry, darling. Come on, let’s go to bed.”

You rest your head against his chest, drifting off to the sound of his beating heart.

It feels like only a moment has passed when you wake, flinching at the pain that overwhelms your body. Strong arms cradle you against a solid chest. It takes a second for the ringing in your ears to clear, and you can hear someone talking.

“Mx. Hunter, can you hear me? You need to stay awake.”

Sylus is looking down at you, brows furrowed in concern. You’re in the same position as you were moments ago, except you’re outside and in so, so much pain. You must have been hit in the chest, because each breath you take is a short gasp.

“What…happened?” you wheeze out. 

“Mephisto was flying above when he saw your fight with the Wanderer. He told me that after it hit you, you disappeared for sometime.”

Your mouth goes dry. “Disappeared?”

“The Wanderer was an Elite Herte Knave. Worrisome creatures, because of how they alter time and space with their attacks. It must have displaced you somewhere nearby, because you returned as soon as I defeated it.” Sylus’s tone of voice is back to the stiff way of speaking that you’ve been used to. He won’t even look you in the eye anymore. 

“You can put me down,” you mumble. “I can walk just fine.”

He glares at you. “Oh, you’re fine, are you? When I found you, I thought you were dead because of how still you were. You can’t rush into a fight like this with little regard for your safety. It’s irresponsible, and I’d expect more from a Hunter of your caliber.”

The stark contrast between how Sylus spoke to you before versus now makes your heart sink. Even now as you’re injured, he finds time to scold you. Had the Herte Knave manipulated your mind and made you see a future you could never have? Is it that cruel?

“I’m sorry,” you apologize quietly. You’re angry at yourself for thinking that what you saw could be anything more than an illusion. 

His eyes lock on you instantly. Sylus takes in your subdued demeanor, and he sighs. “I apologize for my tone. I was…worried about you. I don’t want to lose you.”

You stare at him, and it’s his turn to look away. “I mean, we can’t have Linkon City’s finest Hunter dying, can we?”

“Can you put me down now? I need to get back to headquarters to give Captain Jenna my report.” You want to get away as fast as possible, if only to defuse your embarrassment.

Sylus’s hands tighten around you. “You’re in no shape to go anywhere, especially not back to work. Let me take care of you.”

“You don’t need to do that,” you argue. “I can go to the hospital.”

Sylus stares at you with a look you can’t decipher. “If…that’s what you want. I apologize. I considered calling the Association to tip them about your state, but I worried you might be too wounded by the time backup arrived. I can bring you to Akso Hospital and…I won’t bother you again.”

Your brows furrow. “What? You’re not–I don’t want that.”

“Then what can I do? Ask, and it’s yours.”

“Why are you acting so weird?” Your frustration has only gotten stronger with each vague response from Sylus.

“I understand that you’re uncomfortable around me, so I’ll leave you alone,” he says, looking anywhere but at you.

You grab his lower jaw and tilt his stubborn face towards you. “I don’t want you to leave. Why would you think that, after everything?”

He lets you squeeze his cheeks, staring at you with a strange look in his eyes. It’s almost…vulnerable.

“You don’t want me to carry you, or treat your wounds,” he practically whispers. “And you’re always angry at me. I’ve clearly overextended my welcome in your life.”

You stare at him, mouth agape. “You’re…you can’t be serious. I thought you hated me. I thought you were tired of my behavior. I’m always provoking you.”

Sylus shakes his head, “I’m…sorry. I don’t intend to be so gruff all the time. I enjoy your company, and your antics.”

Your treacherous heart is beating a million miles a minute. “Then…”

He smiles, and you're relieved to see him nearly back to normal. “Then I’ll patch you up at my home. And,” he hesitates for a moment, “perhaps you can stay. Until you’re healed, of course.”

He waits for your answer, large hands tightening their grip at your thighs and over your side. You want to sink into the touch, and intertwine your soul with his if it were possible.

“Yes,” you say breathlessly. “I think I should.”

Sylus smiles, and you almost feel his relief. “Good,” he murmurs.

His eye catches something, and his lips pout in thought. You look down to see what has caught his attention. He’s staring at your hand, where there are cuts and bruises left as evidence of the Wanderer attack. But what stands out against all of those wounds is the band of indentation on your ring finger. Your breath catches as you stare at the mark, running your thumb over it gently. You smile, leaning your head against Sylus’s chest.

You don’t know what your future holds, but you know for certain that you want—need—Sylus in it.

[pinkmirth]

i think adrian would get hard just from cuddling with you

MIDNIGHT CRAVINGS, adrian ‘alucard’ țepeș!

❤︎ ₊ ˙ ⊹ 900+ words of . . . nsfw/smut, alucard x fem!reader ( black coded! ) established relationship, spooning, unprotected sex, creampie, minors shoo!

the simplest of affections are enough to rile up the poor man. what can he say? he’s a devoted lover! when you’re underneath the silken sheets of alucard’s grand bed, with him spooning you from behind, his arms wrapped around your middle as your body heat radiates off of him, he can’t help but grow . . . excited. he doesn’t think he could react any other way, being this close and intimate with a beautiful woman he loves.

adrian’s lean hips shift a little against your backside, and it isn’t long until you notice the his stirring cock prodding at you, settled between your clothed asscheeks. you can feel the subtle, steady pulse of his underside through your flimsy nightgown. you hum knowingly, feeling your own arousal grow, and he meekly apologizes with a deep, airy whisper to your ear. you welcome it, though; reaching behind you to slink your arm between your bodies, all to grab hold of him through his pyjamas.

adrian’s breath catches in his throat, holding back a rising groan, and you turn over a little to send him a sweet smile, one that embarrassingly makes his cock jump. god, he always reacts to every little thing you do; you just seem to have that effect on him. your fingers curl around the length of him, tugging down and swirling back up with a pace that makes his hips buck into the warmth of your soft palm. there’s a glint in your eye as you work him, one that shows him you want this— want him.

you steadily jerk his throbbing cock, and his grasp on your hips only grows tighter with every stroke. slippery precum spurts out from his mauve-pink tip and dribbles down, wetting your fingers as they massage his shaft. adrian doesn’t think he can take this for much longer— at this rate, he’ll end up orgasming from your hand alone. alucard pants into the crook of your neck, licking and nibbling at the skin there. his moans have a delicious rasp to it, and the shameless sound makes you throb.

“wanna put you inside,” is your soft confession, and who is he to deny you? the thought of being enveloped by your warm, tight cunt is enough to make his mouth water. he flits out his tongue to swipe over his fangs, releasing a shaky breath.

“of course, my love,” adrian gives in, flipping up the hem of your silk-white nightdress. his large palm encompasses the fat of your ass, kneading and squeezing before he goes to hold his cock at the base, lining up with your quivering hole. he starts slow when pressing it in, your wet entrance kissing his sensitive cockhead. adrian sinks in deeper, and he swears he could cum solely off of hearing you whine out his name so sweetly.

alucard kisses the delicate skin of your neck, his hand lifting up your side to cup your left breast and graze over your pebbled nipples. he starts making good work of you; fucking into you from behind, sucking love marks onto the delicate canvas of your flesh. he’s panting into your neck, and the feeling of his cock driving into you with such an undoing pace has you moaning out, rutting your ass back into him as a feeble attempt to match his thrusts. the momentum of his pistoning hips soon grows restless, almost overpowering.

resounding smacks of his pelvis to your backside begin to fill the room and echo off the walls. it’s almost as loud as both your sounds combined; his shuddering breaths and your broken mewls. his quickened pounding makes your back arch further, ass jutting out and rippling against his plunging hips. he slinks his hand forward, swiping the pads of his fingers against your needy clit, pressing tight circles into the puffy nub. “a—adrian!” you cry out, trying to pivot your face around to kiss him.

you’re then blessed with the sight of your beautiful husband. there’s beading sweat built up at his hairline, stray blonde hairs that have fallen into his face, the seductive flutter of his lashes, a scatter of blush that’s overtaken his cheeks, and his pale-pink lips that are trapped underneath his sharp gleaming teeth before your mouth desperately collides with his.

you moan into his mouth, and adrian takes the opportunity to slide his tongue inside, his thin blonde brows drawn downwards when he feels you clench around him. he pulses in return, swapping spit and suckling at your lower lip, swallowing up all the pretty sounds that pour from you. you feel yourself toppling over the edge, and it isn’t long until you’re creaming all over his cock. you let go with a silent gasp and your eyes screwed shut. he fucks you through it and lovingly coos into your ear, staring into your face when you convulse around him; your plush, agape lips, the cute furrow of your brows, and he glances a bit lower to ogle the delicious curve of your spine down to your butt.

a few more pumps and adrian finds himself unraveling. a raspy moan is what marks his climax, lowly whines falling from him when he cums. his tight grasp around your waist is still there, though it loosens with the dazed sensation that comes tug an orgasm. you bask in the feeling of his warm cum spurting into your womb, filling you up nicely. you pout once he slips out of you, a stream of cum spilling down your puffy cunt.

alucard frees out a deep sigh; one of content. again, you tip your head back to kiss him, a calmer one this time. he returns your affections with gentle pecks, mumbles “i love you’s” onto the soft pillow of your lips, caressing the curving plane of your hips. he’s sure that you both know he couldn’t possibly get enough of you.

[littlemisssilvermoon]

what if there was a yandere batfam x villain!mom!reader. More specifically, I'm thinking of this (Fem reader);

Reader is a (technically) small threat. They're well known, but they mostly go after the rich and police. Unfortunately, that describes everyone in/closely involved with the Batfamily. Attempts at capture are futile, however, since they seem to rival Bruce in contingency plans.

Eventually, Jason steps up to bat and tries to catch them. However, there's one thing that Jason picked up from Bruce; his type is crime.

You and Jason have Batman-and-Catwoman-esque chases throughout Gotham, Jason blaming your escape on you being too crafty while denying any help. You see Jason's scars and admit that you have a pretty bad one on your side, eventually showing it to him when you feel comfortable taking your clothes off. Jason has had to hide more hickeys, bite marks, and scratches on his back than anyone would hazard to guess.

One day, however, you disappear. The Batfam is relieved that you've finally stopped your reign of terror over Gotham, but Jason is worried.

The Batfam all go out for ice cream a few months later for something unrelated, when Jason catches sight of something familiar.

A scar winding up someone's side. A scar he's seen before. A scar that's stretched due to a bump.

Dick walks into his back when Jason freezes. Judging by the size, you've been pregnant for about as long as you've been off of the streets. So that's where you've been...

Why didn't you tell him? Did you think he didn't love you enough? Did he not show you enough times that he loved you? Did you think that it wouldn't work because he was working with Batman? He wasn't that close with him! He'd help you find a nice apartment in Crime Alley, or, hell, you could move in with him! He wasn't sure how good of a dad he'd be, but he'd try! Isn't that what parenting is about?

Oh god, he hasn't been around for so much of your pregnancy already. He needs to talk to you!

"...Jason. Earth to Jason Todd? Hello?" Dick says, waving his hand through the thoughts swirling in front of his eyes. Jason starts slightly as he remembers where he was. Damian begins walking towards you. Or rather, the ice cream store you were in front of.

While you were out of earshot, he saw as you looked at Damian. You smiled, probably asking where his parents are, because he gestured behind him. He watched as your smile fell into shock as your eyes landed on him, hand instinctively going to your stomach before you glanced at a nearby alleyway before looking back at him.

He took the hint. Now you're facing each other, unasked and uncountable questions floating between the both of you. Jason, however, asked the worst question possible in that moment.

"Is it mine?"

The slap was warranted, honestly.

The next few questions come more easily. You're around 24 weeks along, you've been living alone for the most part, you've obviously taken time off to avoid any injuries/toxic exposure to the baby, etc. Eventually, he asks why you never told him, and the reason was twofold. On one hand, telling him would've required doing some sort of crime for the batfamily to follow and him being the one that caught you, which you had known was debateable since he mentioned how Bruce and the Robins offered to tag along. On the other, the chance of everything crashing and burning because of this was too great. You were too willing to accept that it was truly just like what Batman and Catwoman had, something fun and fleeting but nothing deeper than that. You weren't going to risk your child because you felt loved.

Jason takes your hands and tells you his full legal name. At first you're confused, but he tells you more. He tells you how long he's been a vigilante, where he lives, even the code to his apartment. He doesn't see any of this as fleeting. This, to him, was a relationship that just needed a full push to become a "proper" one.

He places his hands and yours on your stomach.

"My name is Jason Peter Todd, I'm the vigilante Red Hood, son of Bruce Wayne, and... I'm gonna be a dad if you'll let me."

You smile and hug him, unable to talk around the lump in your throat.

"Jason...? What the fuck are you doing?" says Dick.

He turns around and realizes that the entire batfamily had heard him.

"So, she's pregnant with your child?" Damian glances around, trying to get another look at your belly.

"Of everyone I thought would get a villain pregnant... you weren't high on that list." Barbara chimes in.

"I'm gonna be a grandfather?" Bruce asks

---

So yeah, gist of it is that Jason gets Reader pregnant, Reader gets some information that Batman uses to justify keeping you in the manor, along with the half truth of "keeping appearances", since the tabloids would eat you alive if they caught evidence of a member of the Wayne family being a deadbeat dad, and over time, the family becomes more and more suffocating until your baby is born, in which they somehow make themselves a nuisance in child rearing.

Asks are welcome!

[lambilegs]

a secret surprise (sevika x reader)

۶ৎ contains: fluff and smut (so minors dni!!), sevika has a dick, ringing in christmas with some nasty sloppy sex, breeding kink (+ pregnancy talk but it's all just roleplay, sev and reader aren't actually trying to get pregnant), reader's body is referred to w the following terms: "pussy," "cunt," "clit," "hole," reader and sev banter A LOT (v much feisty!reader-coded), degrading kink (terms used include: "slut," "whore," "cumslut"), begging, edging and teasing, light humiliation kink, daddy kink (just as a title), reader is called "girl" and "(house)wife"

۶ৎ divider by: @u1traviolxnt

۶ৎ note: just a tadddd late on a christmas-themed fic LOLL I hope all who celebrated had a great christmas, while those who don't had their own wonderful day too <33 for those whose christmases weren't the most warm or fuzzy, I hope you all get to find some relief soon, and that things ease up and you get to experience peaceful days ahead. please take care of yourselves and try to engage in things that bring you a bit of happiness-- ofc though it's also entirely understandable if you need some time to just rest your body and mind, and if so, I'm proud of you for giving yourself that time <3

۶ৎ comments and asks letting me know what you think are always appreciated!! <3 would love to hear mwahhh

from your corner in the room, you watch sevika move about the living room. she's the picture of respect when it comes to your family -- not that that's much of a surprise. she knows how to keep things polite and levelled when necessary, a practice honed from many hours of working one-on-one with her boss, silco. honestly, you're kind of impressive. sure, she's always been someone pretty reserved upon first meeting, but with your family, she's also cordial, helping around when needed and even tolerating some of your older relatives' cheesy jokes and long, seemingly never-ending anecdotes. she even watches over some of the younger kids at one point, sitting by and making sure none of them get harmed. if they bother her with inane questions, she'll give one-worded answers, and half-heartedly play with them if they bug her enough.

that's not to say she's completely absent of her usual attempts to irk you, though. when no one's looking, she pinches the side of your waist, igniting a yelp that has several heads whirling in your direction. once the shock has died down, you smack her arm with a glare, hissing, "I hate you." when everyone is moving to the kitchen to fill their plates with food, she snakes a hand down and playfully squeezes your ass, catching you with a mischievous laugh when you stumble. when you're washing dishes in the kitchen while everyone else does karaoke and plays games out in the living room, she saunters in, leaning on the wall and watching you. when you ask her if everything is okay, she slides behind you, wrapping her strong arm around your waist and nuzzling into your jaw, pressing some warm kisses there.

"have I impressed you?" she asks, her low voice making you clench down. between the travelling, all the last-minute preparations that have commenced since, and separate bedrooms, you two have barely had time to have sex this week.

"mhm," you hum, trying to ignore the throb between your thighs. "I'm proud of you, sevi."

she sighs against your skin, and you can feel the way her body loosens against yours. she's clearly relieved.

"didn't think you'd be that worried," you coo. "you trying to get their blessing or something?"

she scoffs against your hair. "I don't need their blessing." her warm palm, which has been rubbing on your stomach, slows down. "but, I'd like for them to... you know, at least approve a little."

you're unable to resist the smile that creeps onto your face. despite her little tough act, you know your girlfriend does care about this kind of stuff. she's careful and thinks about your guys' future far more than she lets on, and like it or not, she's wrapped around your finger. if you'd like for her to do something, even if it's something as old-school as win your family's approval, she's gonna do it. 

"what, in case you wife me up?" you giggle, scrubbing away at a bowl with some particularly dry, stubborn stains. 

"don't tell me you're expecting a proposal."

"it would be kind of romantic to do it on christmas eve," you say matter-of-factly.

"except we're not in a damn hallmark movie," she snickers. "besides," she continues, her husky voice lowering as her mouth draws close to your ear, "if I propose to you, it's gonna be when we're alone."

you gulp, just the notion of being alone with her after such a momentous event doing something to you. "why?"

her fingers trail down your stomach, sliding between your thighs. you hiss at the boldness of her touch, your hips bucking when she presses her fingers against you through the layers of fabric. "because I wanna be able to give you the marriage experience that night."

"of course your horny ass immediately thinks of sex when it comes to the 'marriage experience,'" you drawl, the last two words coated in mockery. 

"oh, come on, you're telling me you aren't thinking of it right now?" she chuckles, the noise of it deep and wrapped in velvet. "doing the dishes like a good little housewife while I take care of you." her words are punctuated with the firmer rubs she's beginning to push into your clothed core.

you gasp softly, but still try to proceed with your counterarguments. sevika always has people right in the palm of her hand, and since you two have met, you've relished in giving her a hard time. "I'm anything but a housewife, you know that."

"just humour me a bit." she licks a long stripe along your neck, and you grip the bowl so hard you worry for a split second that it'll break. "like I did for you when we played boss-and-secretary the other night."

just the mention of your little night of roleplaying has you biting back a moan. sevika had looked downright sinful in her unbuttoned shirt and loosened tie, cock plunging into you as she sucked on your tits and landed spank after spank on your ass, muttering about how you were such a slutty subordinate. 

"well, you enjoyed that if I remember correctly," you breathe out, the words less firm and more shaky than you'd like.

"and you're telling me you don't enjoy this little fantasy? letting me spoil that cunt rotten after a long day of playing house."

the sudden filth of her words has you bucking uncontrollably and she laughs quietly, her hips smacking right back into yours. "that's enough to get you going, huh?"

"fuck you," you whisper. 

her hand releases some of the pressure it had against your mound. "such a nasty mouth. and on christmas eve too?"

you snort. "sorry, I forgot you're father christmas."

her teeth graze the lobe of your ear and you sigh in pleasure. "last time I checked, you called me something else -- though, it is kind of close to 'father.'"

you're about to retort when a sudden pound of footsteps down the hall has you yanking away from sevika, your girlfriend stepping to the side just in time for when your aunt barges in. she makes small talk with sevika as she retrieves glasses from the cabinet, luckily sparing you as you duck your head down, pointedly latching your eyes onto the sink.

when she leaves, you shoot sevika a glare. "jesus, at this rate, you're gonna do something so bad that I can never show my face here again."

"you didn't seem to mind much."

you roll your eyes. "well, it was a moment of weakness." clearly, considering you can feel the thick juices leaking from your hole now.

"been having a lot of those lately."

you ignore her because, unfortunately, she's very right. sevika can read your body like a book, and therefore, in spite of your curses and rebuttals throughout the day, she’s taken notice of every pleasured reaction her touch evokes. from the flinch of your hips, to the puff of air that shoots from your mouth, to the way you immediately grind against her hand. 

not that you guys can do much about it.

at least, that's what you think until a soft knock flows through the space of your childhood bedroom that night. 

you tentatively rise up, quietly calling out, "yeah?"

when sevika walks in, her lips curled into a self-satisfied smirk, you jerk back in surprise. "what the hell? sevi, I--"

you're immediately cut off with her broad body crawling over yours, pinning you down to the bed. without a moment's hesitation, her lips capture yours, tongue immediately slipping in and swirling around yours. you squeeze your eyes shut at the sloppiness of it, her lips massaging yours with slow purposefulness. she pulls back, flattening her tongue and roving it along the curves and plush of your lips, catching the bottom one under her teeth and nipping at it. 

you gasp sharply at the sting, delightfully mixed in pain and pleasure. she tugs on it, stretching it out before letting it go and sucking on it slowly, spit dribbling from her mouth to yours. "sevi, why are you..."

"it's getting too much," she grunts. "I need -- fuck, I need you."

you slide your hands under the itchy fabric of the ugly christmas sweater you got her three days ago. it’s supposed look funny, weird even, but instead, it just emphasizes her broad shoulders and hugs her biceps just right. it's almost annoying how hot your girlfriend is.

"awe, is someone getting needy?" you tease, your point embarrassingly met with a hitch of your breath when she starts planting soft, wet kisses down the slope of your neck, pausing to suck on the spot under your ear.

"says the one who was practically dry humping me in the kitchen."

"only because you jumped me first!" you quietly snap, tugging on her short hair so that she meets your accusatory gaze. "just like now. in my childhood bedroom," you add in a deadpan tone.

"and?" her teeth flash at you in the dim lighting, her adorable little gap making your stomach flip. "you're telling me you don't like this?" her hand strokes along your stomach, reaching your breast with a tight squeeze that sends you arching, your nipple's contact with both her firm palm and the fabric of your sweater making it tingle. "the idea of getting corrupted in this bed? getting fucked by me when you know you shouldn't?"

your body twists, arousal pooling between your legs as a slew of lewd words continue to spill from her mouth as she tweaks and pinches your nipple, the sharp sting of it shooting through your chest. "so many people in this house, and here you are, being so needy and wanting."

you bite your lip. "sevi, baby, we-- we shouldn't. I -- mmph, what if someone catches us?"

"no one will if you keep quiet." she lifts your sweater up, eyes practically gleaming at the sight of your tits. she ducks her head down, her mouth encircling one of your nipples, tongue lapping it gently, the warm wetness of it making your pussy ache. your tits are so sensitive, nipples hard and aching from the chill of the night, and the hot cavern of sevika's mouth is making you lost in the mix of temperatures and sensations. her tongue is so soft, gliding so easily over the bud. she skims her teeth along the edges, clamping a hand over your mouth before you can make any noise. 

"fuck, god," you whisper, hands digging into her hair as you keep her pressed to your chest. 

"pretty blasphemous of you to say during a holiday."

you glare at her for the playful comment, wrenching out of her hand’s grip on your face. "please, like you're even religious."

"I'd consider it if it gives me the authority to punish you."

"like you even require an authoritative position to do that."

her teeth sink into the soft flesh of your neck and you clamp your lips up together. "you've got a point there, baby." she scrapes her teeth gently down your neck, one of her thick fingers tugging down your sweater to suck a bruising mark into your chest. "you're my slut whenever, aren't you?"

with the way her mouth is lavishing attention on you, it's hard to continue being a brat with her. you want more of this, and you’re well aware that sevika possesses more than enough self-restraint to draw out your pleasure all night long if she so wishes it. even if she does have a boner pressed right up against your thigh. 

"mm, I am," you mumble against the crown of her head, her black hair tickling your lips as you stroke it. "I'm your slut, sevi."

"there you go. wasn't so hard, huh?" she pulls back, tugging on the bottom of your sweater. 

when you remove it, breasts bouncing out, sevika buries her face in your fully naked chest, licking and gnawing like a woman starved. your body arches up at the harshness of her touch, her large hand groping and pulling you into her mouth. your squirming causes your thigh to brush right up against her hard-on, and she grits her teeth at the contact.

"you're so hard, baby," you giggle, hand escaping to her crotch and cupping her through her flannel pajama pants (which, yes, totally match yours).

"fuck," she mutters, her head pressing into your chest. the moist heat of her panting gets your skin warm and toasty, and you shiver from the contrast of it to the rest of your body. "god, I've needed this."

"then, put it in, dumbass," you whisper, your words edged with soft laughter. 

a smirk cracks on sevika's face. "maybe I have been going too easy on you, since there's so much room for backtalk."

ugh, oh, no.

minutes later, both of your pants are tossed into some corner of your bedroom, sevika grinding her bare dick on your pussy. it's firm, hardened with arousal, and the more she presses against you, the more you drip, coating her dick with your juices. whenever it nudges against your swollen clit, you writhe in her embrace, tugging on the material of her sweater for more.

"sevi, please, please," you mumble against her lips, pressing mindless little pecks against them. 

she flicks her tongue along your mouth, breaths heavy. as much as she may try to act like this isn't affecting her, you can feel the tension coiling in her body and how hard she's trying to resist taking you. 

"tell me you've been bad. tell me why you deserve this." 

her mouth is curved into a wicked grin, clearly amused at having you cornered like this. she knows the length of her dick rubbing into the plush, soaked lips of your pussy isn’t nearly enough, and she's clearly determined to have you pathetic and begging before she goes inside.

"ugh," you groan, tossing an arm over your eyes. "fine, I've, um--"

she grips your wrist, pulling it away. "eyes on me."

you shoot her a glare -- well, at least as best as your can manage with the smooth skin of her stroking against your clit. forcing yourself to undergo the embarrassment of locking eyes with her, her amusement thinly veiled with the way her grey eyes are flashing, you continue. "I've been a bad girl. and I, uh, I deserve to be... fucked because, um, I've worked so hard this week and I'm so tired and so wound up and I-- fuck, sevi, I miss you, you idiot."

a huff of laughter quietly slides from her lips, and she pecks your chin. "have you now?"

"sevi, come on," you whine, digging your nails into her lower back, trying to pull her further into you. "I need it, please. sevi, please, I need it, daddy."

her eyes flutter shut at the title, hips jerking harder, which has you both biting back noises tantalizingly close to bursting from your mouths. "fuck, you're lucky you're cute."

she sits up on her knees and positions her dick, rubbing on some lube she snuck in from her suitcase (when she reveals the bottle to you, you grumble at the fact that she just knew she'd manage to convince you to fuck in here). inch by inch, the girth of her stretches out your hole, creating a pleasant, dull ache as your walls tighten around her, accommodating her size. through it, she rubs circles onto your clit, nodding quietly to encourage you on. if you were in the seclusion of your home, she'd be saying filthy words and praises, motivating you to take her in. but, in this position, where she's too far to whisper against your ear, all you get are her hushed words of, "okay?" and, "you ready for more?"

after you adjust, you yank sevika by her collar and she unceremoniously flops onto you, evoking a burst of laughter from you as she narrows her eyes at you, murmuring, "was that necessary?"

"mhm, I got to have pleasure and a comedy show."

she scoffs. "glad to be of service, I guess."

your giggles fade out as she meets your gaze, her pretty eyes soft and creased from the small smile on her face. you cup her face and bring her closer to you, gently kissing her. sevika returns the gesture, her lips amorous and slow as her cock, heavy in your hole, twitches. 

when you part, you whisper, "you gonna move or what?"

apparently, she isn’t in the mood for a challenge, for ten minutes later, she's pumping into you, your old headboard creaking and bumping lightly against the wall as sevika fucks you quietly. in your twin bed, the two of you are cramped up in the limited space, but you couldn't care less. you relish in being this close to your girlfriend, her strong arm wrapped around your body and holding you close to her as your guys’ skin smacks together, the sticky sweat produced from your efforts creating a wet squelch. 

"mmph, daddy," you whine against sevika's ear, nuzzling close to her face and biting on her ear, which ignites a sharp intake of breath from her. "feels so good."

"yeah, princess?" she rasps, her voice hushed. "you like feeling my dick split you open like this? getting fucked and keeping quiet so no one finds out what a slut you are?"

you dig your nails further into her back, raking them along the muscular length of it. her dick has you feeling so full, plugging your hole up in a weight that's so comfortable and familiar. the deep, satisfied ache flows through the entirety of your pussy, from the widened rim of your hole to your clit to your thighs, which are clenched tightly around her slim waist.  

"I'm your slut, daddy," you gasp against her ear. "I love being your slut, letting you fuck me till I'm filled with come."

"oh, yeah?" she chuckles. "is that what you want? for me to fuck my come into this tight little hole?"

"yes, yes, daddy." your hips buck up to meet hers, the pleasure making it hard to not flinch and jerk at the way it rolls through you. 

nasty little squelches roll through the room from the way your juices slosh around her dick, droplets slipping out every time her cock rocks out and only the tip is hugged by your entrance. when she pounds back into you, her balls smack against you, and the weight of them has you nearly squealing in pleasure, thoughts of how come-filled they are overtaking your brain. 

you wrap your legs around her, the lift of your hips causing the tip of her cock to hit your g-spot. the pointed curve of it nudging against the spongey softness has a deep, tingling sensation flooding your insides. your mouth hangs open, a small moan choking out of you. 

sevika, still thrusting into you, raises her head up and covers your mouth with hers, shoving her tongue in as your sweaty bodies push and pull together. she breathes out, "so fucking mouthy, even in bed."

you're so turned on that her bullying only has you tightening on her, which, of course, observant woman she is, immediately arouses an arch of her eyebrow. "does my girl like that? hearing about how you're such a noisy cumslut? just begging and babbling for some come to be leaking out of your pretty cunt?"

"f-fuck," you stumble over your words, head tossing into your pillow, eyes squeezing shut. "please, daddy, please, want it so bad."

"I know, baby, I know. give it to me, yeah?" she coaxes, her rough thumb beginning to stroke your stiff bud side to side, having mastered the pressure and speed that'd get you tipping over the edge. "wanna feel you milk it out of me."

"I will, I will!" your torso arches against her, tits rubbing the rough fabric of her stupid, patterned shirt. "m'gonna come so good for daddy."

"yeah, you will, gonna let your pussy latch onto all that come till these sheets are fucking drenched." she speeds up her thrusts, your mind going dizzy and weak at the mixed sensations of her pushes into your g-spot and fast flicks against your clit. "gonna be so fucking embarrassing tomorrow, to have to come up with some excuse for why these sheets are so nasty."

"it's your fault too!"

her voice, rough and heavy, is practically mesmerizing when combined with the surges of ecstasy shooting through your body. "guess I am just as bad, right? can't go too long without trying to get you knocked up."

those words are enough to shove your over the edge, your walls beginning to clamp down on her cock relentlessly as the tension in your stomach snaps, sending waves of hot, molten lust coursing through your body. you bite onto the material of sevika's clothing, muffled whines bursting from your lips as she continues rutting into you and rubbing insistently on your clit, tugging out more and more pleasure until you're sated and batting her hand away. meanwhile, she's shuddering on top of you, the sensation of your orgasm clearly taking its toll on her.

"please, please." you wrap your arms around her back, pliant and soft as the exhaustion of your orgasm wears you down. your pussy is sopping even more now, sevika's dick moving in and out with ease. "come, daddy. sevi, please. wanna feel how warm it is."

"fuck," she curses, her fingers digging hard into your waist. "gonna get you so loaded. gonna look like such a whore, leaving this trip nice and pregnant."

her words have your aftershocks heightened, your pussy clenching down on her cock again. the moment it happens, sevika's body jerks hard against yours, her last thrusts messy and running on pure instinct, deep and rough. she stills on the third one, her mouth falling open as she trembles, her come shooting into you, sticky and hot, coating your walls and making you feel entirely smeared and tainted.

you clutch onto her through it, your clit aching at the feeling of her load being pumped into you, streams of it leaking into your tight hole as she half-heartedly jerks into you a few more times. 

"shit," she mutters, her body heaving as she catches her breath. "that was good."

"good?" you ask, your lips quirking up. "you sound like you're talking about mittens."

she rolls her eyes. "sorry, was I supposed to pull out a dictionary to compliment our sex life?"

you look away, pouting. well, you aren't that demanding.

"baby," she murmurs, kissing your cheek. "it was amazing, alright?" she grunts softly, nuzzling into your neck. "you know it just makes me, you know, to say these things."

"I think the word you're looking for is 'shy,' sevi."

she clears her throat. "well, sure." a moment later, she looks up at you, her face pure magic when coated with the blue light wandering through your windows. "it was really fucking good, okay?"

a sudden shyness seizes at you, your lips curling up as your eyes dart away. "I'm glad. it was amazing for me too. it's just, I need to hear that, you know. from you."

"I know." another quiet kiss lands on your chin. "I'm trying for you. that's not gonna stop."

"you're sweet." you run a hand through her hair, pausing to look down at her, smile widening. "hope it didn't hurt your rep to hear that."

she snickers, though her lips curve up ever-so-slightly. "eh, my rep isn't that fragile. nothing a few words can break."

"true. you being pussydrunk is probably what'll break it."

"actually, I thought it's what'll break you."

you flick her forehead, giggling at the little pout she makes without realizing. "so cocky. at this rate, you're gonna get on the naughty list."

she hums, stroking your hips. "I already got my present, so it's okay."

your face warms at the tender words. "I got mine too." you tug on her hair, bringing her up for a kiss. "merry christmas, sevi."

she meets your lips with a smile.

[wandascosmic]

so american

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: in which you struggle with the aftermath of your relationship with natasha, but wanda never fails to help you through it all.

or, the one based off so american by olivia rodrigo.

word count: 11,499

tags: fluff, angst, natasha being a bitch in one scene, this was supposed to be completely fluffy but then i added angst and ended up loving it, they're mostly just two idiots in love, reader gets insecure a couple times, wanda's so in love, everyone say thank you to olivia rodrigo for fuelling all my fic ideas

part one: enough for you

“Why do Americans drive on the right side of the road,” Wanda grumbles as she sits behind the wheel, driving the two of you to your favorite road trip destination, your family’s cottage in Nevada. 

You laugh, kissing her cheek. “Baby, Sokovians do too.” 

“Well, yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m happy about it,” Wanda mutters, cursing under her breath when another right-hand turn takes her by surprise. 

“I think that’s what you get for getting your license in the UK, Wanda,” you tease. “Now you’re all grumpy, and angry, and that milkshake we shared a couple of hours ago definitely didn’t help–”

Wanda gives you a look and you give a cheeky smile in return.

“For the record,” she replies, looking at the road once more. “I didn’t have a choice. I was on a recon mission with Steve, and he told me I couldn’t rely on my powers for transportation all the time.” 

“Well, I think your powers are hot, though.” 

Wanda laughs. “Thanks, detka.” 

“Jesus, I’m cold,” you mutter as goosebumps start to form on your skin. 

Wanda immediately turns down the AC in the car, and you reach into the back for the first piece of outerwear you can find. As you pull your hand back to your body, you realize it’s Wanda’s navy blue hoodie, your favorite piece of clothing of hers. Smiling, you pull it over your head, comforted by the scent of her that enraptures your senses. 

Sighing in satisfaction, you lean your head back into your chair, feeling so much more content than you did a year ago. 

Wanda notices you out of the corner of her eye, and softly says, “You look so pretty wearing my clothes.” 

You smile at her, and Wanda takes your hand in return, as she keeps her other on the wheel, intertwining your fingers together. 

“You’re so warm,” you whisper, feeling so so loved. 

Wanda squeezes your hand tighter. 

***

Wanda’s laugh is the most beautiful sound in the world, you realized the first day you met her. 

You had been sitting and talking the entire morning, Wanda’s smile awakening the constant butterflies in your stomach and setting your heart alive. 

“So,” Wanda rests her chin onto her hand and leans onto her elbow. “What profession are you in?” 

You smile, “I’m an oncologist, but I much prefer the research aspect of things. I find it thrilling.” 

Wanda scrunches her nose. “You find spending countless hours in front of your computer and in a lab thrilling?” 

You laugh. “Sure do. What about you? What profession are you in?” 

“I’m an Avenger, but I work part-time as an English professor at a local university,” Wanda replies, and before you can compliment her on her work as a superhero, she asks another question, still curious about your job. “Why oncology, though?” she asks with her shiny eyes ever so inquisitive. 

“My mom died of cancer when I was 8,” you look into your coffee cup, staring at the liquid as you pop the lid off. “You can probably figure out the rest,” you give a small smile. 

Wanda frowns. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be, it was a long time ago. I’ve made peace with it, honestly.” 

“That’s really amazing though,” Wanda says, struck by how beautiful you were on the outside and inside. 

You blush. “Thanks.” Feeling overwhelmed by everything Wanda was making you feel you decide to tell a joke. “Hey, what do you call an apology written in dots and dashes?”

Wanda tilts her head curiously. “What?” 

“Re-morse code,” you give a small smile. 

Wanda takes a second to process it, but once she does, a huge grin makes its way on her face and she’s laughing. 

She’s laughing, and you want to keep hearing it for the rest of your life. 

Once she’s done, she looks at you with a shake of her head. “That was awful.” 

You shrug. “Made you laugh, though.” 

“You did,” Wanda nods. “And something tells me you’ll keep making me laugh.” 

You blush, people had never really found you funny. Nat didn’t especially. 

But here Wanda was, with her comforting smile that made you feel like you were on fire, and her soft green eyes that made you feel safe, cared for, and loved already. 

Who made you feel like you were funny for the first time in your life. 

***

“Here we are,” Wanda says, stepping out of the car and slamming the door shut. 

You sigh contently, so incredibly happy compared to the dark place you were at two years ago. Sometimes, you still felt the weight of how unloved you had felt. Of how you never felt good enough, never felt worthy of someone caring for you. And every time you ran back into your thoughts, Wanda was there to pull you out of your head and reassure you that you deserved the world. Telling you that she would do her best to give it to you. 

It all felt surreal. Gently, you hear Wanda open the car door to the passenger side. The simple action made your heart flutter. “Ready, detka?” she says, smiling at you. 

Nodding, you exit the car, planting a kiss on her lips before she shuts the door. 

Putting her sunglasses on, she comments, “You know, you’re pretty American for having a cottage. With the beach, and everything.” 

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” you ask. 

“Yep, because you’re an adorable American,” she smiles, kissing you quickly. 

It wasn’t fair of her, to make you feel this much. 

***

Wanda’s on a mission in Russia, and you miss her desperately. You found yourself struggling whenever you were alone, still grappling with the feelings of whether you were enough from two years ago. Your rock was all the way on another continent, too far to reassure you of the constant echoes of awful thoughts that rang in your head. 

“Can I go with you?” you had asked as you sat on Wanda’s bed while she packed the night before with you. 

Wanda kisses your lips. “As much as I would love that, detka, I want you to be safe,” she rubs your arm. 

“I’m gonna miss you,” you say quietly. 

Wanda frowns. “I know, baby, I’m gonna miss you too. So much.” 

You nod, and as you sit quietly on her bed, Wanda can tell your head is somewhere else. 

Grabbing your hand softly, Wanda sits in front of you, staring into your eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you look away. 

Kissing your forehead gently, Wanda pulls back with encouraging and comforting eyes. “I love you,” she says softly. 

And it’s all you need, because it’s the most delicate, soft, unspoken gesture you’ve ever heard. One that screams that she cares, that she won’t leave you, that she won’t hurt you, and that she truly honestly loves you with all her heart and you can feel it radiating off of her. 

Wanda Maximoff made you feel like you were the most important person in the world to her. 

Little did you know, you truly were, and to confirm it Wanda had a ring in her back pocket which she bought a week after she started dating you with her at all times. 

“I love you too,” you reply, giving her a small smile. “I just want to be anywhere you are,” you confess as you start blushing timidly. 

“Oh? That’s cute,” Wanda teases. 

“Shut up,” you groan, hiding your face in the crook of her neck. 

Wanda laughs, kissing your temple. “I do too, detka.” 

“Really?” you pull your head away to meet her gaze. 

“Of course,” Wanda smiles. “Being with you is my favorite thing in the world. Why wouldn’t I want it all the time?” 

You blush furiously. “You know, if you keep this up–” 

“What?” she asks gently.

I might just marry you. You think, oblivious to the fact that Wanda’s already had the thought countless times. 

You shake your head with a smile. 

***

When Wanda’s on her mission, she buys a small chocolate chip cookie keychain that reminds her of you. They were your favorite food, and every Sunday, Wanda made sure to bake a fresh batch for the week so you never had to run out of one of your favorite things. 

And when she gets back, only seconds after she puts her bags down she feels her arms fill with you and her heart becomes so much bigger than it was before. She kisses you deeply, smiling to herself at the person she loves in her arms.

Whispering against your lips, she pulls the keychain out of her left back pocket, her right one carrying the ring she’s planning on proposing to you with. “I bought this for you,” she tells you, letting it dangle off of her index finger by the silver ring that she later finds out gets attached to the zipper of your favorite backpack. 

And God, Wanda would be a fool not to be eternally charmed by the way your eyes light up with joy once you see it, the happy tears in your eyes making her want to hug you so tightly and never ever let go. “I love it,” you reply, grabbing it softly as if it’s made of the most delicate china. “I love you,” you kiss her lips. 

Wanda shakes her head. “So American,” she teases, referring to your love for chocolate chip cookies.

“Yeah, but I’m your American,” you reply cheekily. 

Wanda nods, kissing you once more. “My beautiful, perfect, so American girlfriend.”  

Wanda feels her heart skip a beat when you blush all over. 

***

You’re crying. You’re crying because you saw Natasha for the first time since the two of you broke up, and her words don’t hurt any less than they did when the two of you were dating. Natasha had just seen you and Wanda, wrapped up in each other’s arms, admiring one another at Tony’s enormous birthday party. 

Once Wanda had left to go let Pietro in, who had run back all the way from Australia where he was taking a break from the superhero life, Natasha had come up to you. Ready to poison your world with her venomous tongue. 

“You know, she’ll get sick of you,” Natasha had snapped you out of your thoughts as you stared at the door where Wanda had just left. 

“What?” you reply as you turn to face her on the leather stool. Her calculating and judging eyes causing you to gulp. Even now, you still felt her hurtful words ring the bells of your insecurities back to life. 

“She’ll get sick of you,” Nat repeats. “I mean, why do you think we broke up? You’re boring, you’re rude, and you’re obsessive. All my friends told me about how you couldn’t shut up about me when we were together. I mean, clingy much?” 

“I didn’t mean–” you try. 

Nat scoffs. “Yeah, whatever.” She takes a sip of her drink.

You feel the need to apologize, for you never meant to make Nat feel suffocated that way, when suddenly a brunette witch is making her way over to you. And she looks like she’s about to rain down hellfire on Natasha. 

“Excuse me.” Wanda’s eyes narrow as she wraps an arm around your shoulder. “I believe she’s my girlfriend, Natasha.” 

“Just warning her.” Natasha shrugs. “And you.” 

You stare at the spot on your lap, deciding on whether or not to blink away the tears in your eyes or cry, because ever since you dated Natasha you had learned how to cry silently so you wouldn’t bother her. 

Wanda raises an eyebrow, and her accent comes out thicker than ever before, “And what would you be warning me about?” 

“Of her,” Natasha shrugs. 

Wanda’s eyes go red before she calms down, and her arm around you tightens in the most gentle way somehow. “I’ll give you five seconds to leave us alone.” 

“You’re gonna regret this, Wanda,” Natasha says. 

“The only person with regret is you, for never treating her the way she deserves to be treated,” Wanda replies sharply. 

Natasha scoffs, turning around. “As if she deserves anything.” 

Suddenly, Natasha’s glass explodes in her hands, ‘causing everyone in the party to look her way. You can tell it was Wanda based on the way you saw a spark of red flash in her hands briefly. 

Natasha turns and narrows her eyes venomously at Wanda, before stalking off to go clean the cut that’s very visible on her hand. 

You’re still staring at the same spot on your lap when Wanda turns to face you, cupping your cheeks in her hands as she looks at you. 

“Are you alright, milaya?” she asks, the heartbroken expression on your face making her heart drop to her stomach. You didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve this at all. 

“Do you hate me?” you whisper brokenly, the tears finally escaping your eyes as you can no longer keep them at bay. 

“No, baby, no,” Wanda wipes the tears running down your cheeks with her thumbs. “I could never, ever, hate you.” 

“What did I do to make her hate me so much? What’s wrong with me?” you ask with a sob. 

“Nothing,” Wanda feels her own tears build up behind her eyes. “Nothing is wrong with you, baby, you’re the most amazing human being I know.” 

And Wanda’s heart breaks even more, as you cry more and more, silently. 

Somehow, it’s even more heartbreaking than if you were to ever make a sound. 

You cry even more as you replay tonight’s events in your head, still in the navy blue dress Wanda had picked for you for the party, telling you how pretty you looked once she saw you in it. You felt so wrong, like you didn’t deserve any of what Wanda was giving you, like she would get sick of you the same way Natasha did. Because maybe Natasha was right, maybe you didn’t deserve anything. Because if you did deserve anything, then why would Natasha treat you so awfully, why would your mom have left you as a child and why would your brother leave you too, so overridden with the pain of the lack of your mom that he couldn’t bear to watch you, leaving you with your abusive father who reeked of alcohol every night. 

The thoughts sicken you, because your mother never ever meant to have cancer. And it wasn’t your brother’s fault that he couldn’t handle a life without your beautiful, loving mother in it. And it wasn’t your father’s fault either that he had a drinking problem. 

Maybe it was all your fault. 

You hear the knock on your door, and you can tell by the pattern that it’s Wanda. “Detka, can I come in?” she says gently from the other side of the door. 

Quietly, you get up from your bed, turning the doorknob, and opening the door. The motions feel unnatural to you, like you’re some stranger who’s been playing the role of having a loving girlfriend, but your world was shattered earlier and you don’t know who you are anymore. You don’t know if you deserve anything anymore. 

“Oh, baby,” Wanda says heartbroken as she wraps you in a tight hug. 

This was your fault, seeing the sad look in her eyes you realize that you hurt Wanda. 

You hurt the one person in your life whom you never meant to hurt. 

It was all your fault. 

You hug her back, because maybe if you hug her back it would make her feel better and it would be less of your fault. 

Wanda tightens her grip on you, wanting to convey how much she loves you. Wanting to convey how much you didn’t deserve any of this. Wanting to wordlessly tell you that despite all the pain you’ve been through you handle it with so much grace, and you’re the most beautiful person Wanda’s ever met in her life. 

But Wanda can tell that you’re not okay, that your mind is somewhere else–

Then she hears you sob. And it’s the first sound of a cry that Wanda’s ever heard from you. 

And Wanda can feel the tears fall onto her shoulder and she holds you tighter, she holds you tighter and tighter until Natasha’s hurtful words are overrun by Wanda’s overwhelming love she feels for you. 

Wanda can only hope you understand what she’s saying. 

And once you’re done crying at 3 in the morning, she keeps hoping. 

***

Wanda’s worried about you, ever since Nat had spoken to you at the party you had been more quiet. More reserved. Like your mind was somewhere else.

“Baby?” she asks one morning when you’re both alone in the compound and Wanda wants to cook you breakfast. 

“Yeah?” you ask, staring absentmindedly at the sitcom running on the TV. 

You were ecstatic when the first day Wanda met you, you had both found out about your shared love for sitcoms. 

But Wanda watches you know, the complete lack of interest in Malcolm in the Middle worrying her because it was your favorite sitcom of them all and typically you would have a completely enraptured look in your eye. The same one Wanda was lucky enough to receive from you. 

Frowning, Wanda pauses in her cooking, turning the heat off the stove and coming over to meet you on the couch. 

You don’t register when Wanda sits down next to you, still lost in your thoughts as she gently grabs your hand.

“What’s going on?” she asks softly, running her thumb over the back of your hand. 

“Nothing,” you reply, sitting up slightly. 

“Detka, I know you’re not okay. And you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but just know that I care about you, ok?” Wanda kisses your forehead gently. “I’m always here if you need me.” 

You frown, feeling so guilty that you were making Wanda worried about you. You couldn’t pretend to be okay, and now you’ve hurt her even more. How long until she gets sick of you? How long until she gets sick of the feelings you give her?  

“How long–” your voice breaks. “How long until you get sick of me?” 

“What?” Wanda asks, dumbfounded. 

“I keep making you worry, keep making you need to constantly reassure me, and it must be so tiring for you, so,” you shut your eyes tightly. “How long until you don’t want me anymore?” 

Wanda’s heart breaks. “Never,” she breathes out. “I could never stop wanting you, even if I tried.” Wanda squeezes your hand tightly. “And I would never want to try.” 

“But I’m–” you bite your lip to stop a cry from coming out. “I’m so much to deal with, and I’m not even that interesting, and it would be so much easier for you to date someone who’s actually worthy of how amazing you are–” 

Wanda cuts you off with a kiss. Cupping your cheek, she states, “You are so worthy of love, Y/N.” 

You stay silent, staring back at her green eyes and feeling them pull you out of toxic puddle that was your thoughts like they always did. 

“Loving you is the greatest gift the world has ever given me,” Wanda says, rubbing her thumb against your cheek. “And I could never get sick of you. You are the most incredible thing to ever exist, and loving you, for me, is like breathing. It’s the easiest thing in the world, and it’s everywhere.” 

“I just feel like I’m putting you through a lot,” you say quietly. 

“You’re not,” Wanda shakes her head. “You’re actually making everything I go through easier than it’s ever been.”

“I’m sorry,” you say. 

“Sorry for what?” Wanda asks. “This is everything I love about you.” 

You laugh. “You like when I start crying and get insecure?” 

“I like every part of you. And if you need me to calm you down every single day, I’ll do it in a heartbeat,” Wanda replies, and you smile slightly at her. “But I do hate seeing you cry.” She frowns. 

You scoff. “I hate feeling like this,” you mutter. 

“And I hate Natasha for making you feel like this,” Wanda pulls you into her side and you tuck your head into her shoulder, closing your eyes. 

“I don’t think it was just her,” you say softly. “I think it was a buildup of everything, and Nat just amped it up more. I never really worked through how much that relationship affected me before jumping into one with you.” 

Wanda nods. “Do you want me to give you some space for you to figure it out?” 

You shake your head, wrapping your arms around her waist. “I never want–” you stop yourself, worrying she’ll find you too clingy as Nat’s words ring in your head again. Space from you. 

Wanda doesn’t mean to, but your thoughts echo so loudly in your head that she can’t help but hear them. And she wants to kill Natasha all over again. “What did Natasha say to you at the party?” she asks quietly. 

“Um,” you grapple with your feelings as you relive that night, when Nat made all of your feelings of inadequacy come alive once more. Wanda frowns, rubbing her palm against your side to calm you down. “She said, that–, that you would get sick of me eventually. That I’m boring. And rude. And,” you swallow past the lump in your throat. “Too clingy.” 

“What a bitch,” Wanda mutters. 

“Do you think she’s right?” you ask Wanda, squeezing her waist tighter as your fears that Wanda will get sick of you come alive, and these are your last few moments with the person who lit up your entire world. 

“No, baby, she’s so so wrong,” Wanda replies, her eyes turning red before she looks down at you and frowns as she sees your eyes squeezed tightly shut. 

“The clingy one hurts me the most,” you whisper. “All I wanted was to love her and for her to love me back. But maybe I’m too much.” 

You recall all the times you memorized her new coffee order every few months, the countless hours you had spent re-reading her self-help books, memorizing every fact, listening to all of her favorite songs from the information you had gathered about her. And the way you felt so proud to be Natasha’s girlfriend, the greatest assassin in the world and she chose you to be her partner. How could you have not talked about her? 

Maybe it was too much? 

“I think you’re the most amazing person in the world,” Wanda says, as her powers run amok once more and she sees all the lovely gestures you had done for Natasha. “I think Nat was an idiot for not seeing how kind and loving you are. And you are never too much.” 

You look up at Wanda as she looks down at you with a small smile. Kissing your forehead softly, she says, “You’re not boring. And you’re not rude. In fact, you’re the most interesting person I’ve ever met, as well as the kindest. And if someone is lucky enough to be loved by you, they should realize how rare it is to find someone as incredible as you.” 

You shake your head softly in disbelief. “How do you do it?” you ask. 

“Do what?” 

“Make me feel like I’m actually worthy of being loved.” 

Wanda kisses you deeply this time. 

“You are, I’m just the one who helps you see it.” 

Later that night, Wanda hears you on the phone with one of your oncology friends, and she hears you talk about her. How amazing she is, and how lucky you are to have her. And when she sees you flop back onto the bed through the crack of your door, an elated expression on your face, as you speak dreamily about the way Wanda dresses and the books she reads, Wanda thinks that you’re the greatest thing the world has ever created. And she knows it’s true. 

***

“Baby?” you say, turning to face Wanda in the dark in your bed. Wanda has her arm over your side, and she hums groggily as she was about to fall asleep. 

“What’s going on?” she asks, her voice still heavy with sleep.

“Nothing,” you say quickly, before slowly saying, “It’s just, I really, really, love you.” 

Wanda smiles. “You woke me up to say that?” 

“I didn’t know you were basically asleep,” you reply guiltily. “Guess the mission wore you out more than a night-shift wears me out. Sorry.” 

Wanda kisses you. “Don’t be, you’re adorable.” 

“Can I tell you something?” 

“Of course, milaya.” 

“It’s really hard to sleep when you’re next to me,” you confess.

Wanda grins into the dark. “Oh, yeah? Is it because I’m so attractive?” 

You laugh. “Yes,” you reply, and Wanda’s grin turns smug. “But it’s also because it’s so surreal that I’m with you, at all. And it’s even more surreal that you’re in my bed with me, cuddling me, and you’re so warm and soft and it just makes me want to–” 

Wanda cuts you off with a kiss. 

God, she was so in love with you. 

You grin sheepishly, “Sorry.” 

Wanda rolls her eyes. “Stop apologizing, detka.” 

“Okay,” you nod.  

“Feel better?” Wanda asks, and you understand her question. It’s been a month since Nat confronted you at the party, and moments like this were a big step for you in coming to terms with yourself overall. 

“Much,” you reply. “Especially because you’re here.” 

Wanda smiles. “I’m glad.” 

Wanda’s heart swells when she cuddles you once more, and you hold her hand that’s around your middle as tightly as you can. She feels an overwhelming love for you, and she thinks about the ring in her desk drawer back in her room. 

***

Wanda’s laughing at your joke on the couch. Wanda’s the only one who has ever laughed at your jokes, and it makes you feel so much lighter than ever before, while also making you fall deeper and deeper in love with the woman you’re lucky enough to call your girlfriend. 

“You know, you’re the only person who’s ever laughed at my jokes,” you say. 

Wanda smiles. “Well, then everyone else doesn’t have as sophisticated sense of humor as we do.” 

You give her an incredulous look. “The first day I met you, you laughed at a stupid pun I made.” 

“Exactly,” Wanda shrugs. “Sophisticated.” 

You shake your head with a smile, taking a sip of your tea as your heart feels bigger and more full than you ever thought possible.

And Wanda watches you, awestruck at your striking beauty that she struggles to believe is reality. 

***

Wanda’s sick. Wanda’s sick and you’re worried because your girlfriend is in pain and you don’t want her to be. 

When you came in this morning back from your shift in the hospital, excited to see her, your heart had dropped at seeing her pained expression in bed, her voice croaky and her brows furrowed as she battled the feeling of nausea that overcame her. Not to mention her shivers as her high fever caused her even more misery. 

You sat down on the edge of her bed, softly brushing away the strands of hair that stuck to her forehead due to her high temperature, ‘causing Wanda to stir eventually. 

Slowly opening her eyes, her eyes lit up as she greeted you with a soft smile. “Hi,” she whispered. 

Frowning, you put the back of your hand against her forehead. “Baby, you’re warm,” you told her, suddenly very worried. 

“I’m fine,” Wanda replied, trying to sit up but letting out a groan. “I’m not fine,” she joked, as you helped her lay back down.

“Stay here, I’ll go get you some medicine,” you said, kissing her forehead quickly before heading to the cabinets full of medicine in the bathroom.

“Don’t take too long, Dr. L/N,” Wanda said sleepily as she shut her eyes once more, trying her best to fight her exhaustion so she would still be awake when you came back. 

Shaking your head with a smile, you searched through the cabinets to find the proper medication to give her, already planning how you were going to take care of her the rest of the day and for as long as she needed you while she combatted her illness. Despite your worry, you were grateful that you were finally able to take care of your girlfriend, the same way she did to you every single day. 

Wanda’s condition had subsided slightly, particularly her fever which had gone down quite a bit, but she was still feeling most of the effects of the sickness. 

“Wands,” you say softly, putting the bowl of soup on her nightstand as you kneel down on her side to wake her up gently with a kiss on her cheek. 

Wanda wakes from her slumber with a groan, still slightly disoriented causing you to frown.  

“Is your fever back?” you ask, putting the back of your hand on her forehead like you had done previously this morning. It wasn’t as hot as before, calming your worry a bit. 

Wanda shakes her head before resting it on your shoulder, letting out a sigh. “You’re so good,” she says, turning her head to kiss your neck gently.

“Good at what?” you say with a laugh. 

“Just good,” she says contently, relaxing in your presence. 

“I made you some soup,” you tell her, kissing her temple as she hums. 

“I don’t want it,” she says, muffled by your shirt. 

“I’ll stay with you if you have a couple bites,” you offer. 

Wanda removes her head from your shoulder and raises a brow. “You were going to stay with me anyways,” she says matter-of-factly, trying her best to appear intimidating.  

You smile at her cute expression. Wanda could never be intimidating, especially now when her hair was slightly tousled from her pillow and she was wearing an old T-shirt of yours that was full of wrinkles from her time in bed. 

She was about as intimidating as a baby sea otter. 

“Not anymore,” you shrug, ‘causing Wanda to narrow her eyes slightly. 

“Well, you better,” she retorts, crossing her arms over her chest. “Otherwise I’m never getting over this fever.” 

You smile once more. 

“You know, you’re really cute when you’re sick.” 

“You’re insufferable when I’m sick.”  

You laugh, “Please, will you have some soup?” 

“Only if you cuddle with me when I’m better.”

“I’ll cuddle you right now if you eat a couple spoonfuls,” you say. “I’ll even feed you.”

“I don’t want to get you sick,” Wanda says before her eyes narrow at you once more. “Also, I’m not a child.” 

“I got my flu shot last month,” you tell her, reassuring her worries. “And you’re kinda acting like one,” you tease, before kissing her forehead. “But it’s really cute.” 

Finally, Wanda relents. “Fine, I’ll have some soup.” 

“Thank you, love.” 

You grab the soup from the nightstand and hand it to her, and as she eats you rest your head on her shoulder, one of Wanda’s top 3 favorite ways to be next to you.  

She eats about half before she’s full, and you tell her you’re proud of her before heading off to the kitchen to put the bowl away. 

However, as you get up from her bed, Wanda stops you by grabbing your wrist. 

“Where are you going?” she asks, sitting up slightly as she was already laying back down with the blankets tucked under her chin. 

“To put the bowl away,” you respond gently. “Keeping it in your room might make it start to smell like chicken noodle.” 

Wanda scrunches her nose, accepting your answer quickly making you laugh. 

But as you’re about to leave, you see Wanda watching you, staying sitting up and you can tell that it’s because she wants to wait for you to come back. 

Making your way back over, you gently tell her, “Go back to sleep,” you brush a strand of hair away from her eyes and tuck it behind her ear. “You’re nauseated again, I can tell.” 

“Will you be here when I wake up?” she asks. 

“Of course,” you kiss the tip of her nose. 

And when she lies back down, groggily croaking out the words, “so american,” most likely commenting on the chicken noodle soup, you smile, you smile because you know that’s Wanda’s way of saying she loves you. 

But to Wanda, it’s also her way of saying she wants to marry you. 

***

“This isn’t fair,” you pout as Wanda beats you in Mario Kart once again. 

She had been better for about a week, and she was back to herself which you were ecstatic  about. 

“Baby, how is this not fair,” she laughs.

“You’re way better than me! You had all those years where you played against Pietro, who’s unbeatable, and I only learned ‘cause Sam forced me to when no one else was available!” You cross your arms over your chest. 

Wanda smiles at the cute pout on your face before kissing you softly, and your expression eases up a bit. 

“We can play something else if you want,” she offers, pecking your lips once more. 

“Can I just cuddle you?” you ask, suddenly feeling very shy. 

“You don’t even have to ask,” Wanda says, opening her arms for you to lay down on her, as she leans back against the pillow of the couch, your head resting on her chest as you’re comforted by the sound of her heartbeat. 

You wrap your arms around her waist as she grabs the blanket from the other side of the couch, and pulls it over the two of you, making sure you’re completely covered from the neck down before she tightens her arms around you. 

“I love you,” you say softly, closing your eyes as you relax to the feeling of Wanda stroking your hair gently as you lay on her chest. 

“I love you too, detka. So much,” she says, watching as sleep starts to overcome you due to how exhausted you were from being on call for the past two weeks. 

“You know, it’s really not fair,” you mutter sleepily. 

“What, me winning over 10 times in a row on the Wii?” she laughs. 

“No,” you shake your head. “It’s not fair of you to make me feel this much.” 

Wanda responds by kissing your forehead gently, and you burrow deeper into her chest as you fall into a deep slumber. 

Wanda smiles, content and so so happy as she watches you, feeling the weight of the ring in her back pocket. 

***

It was your one year anniversary, and Wanda had planned a small weekend getaway for the two of you as you had been exhausted due to a bunch of new projects you were taking on. 

Wanda was so proud of you, but a lot of the time she felt worried because of how heavy of a workload you were taking on. 

You were planning on coming over later tonight, as you had to work extra hours in the hospital. 

So, to make you feel better and to let you know about your vacation Wanda made sure wouldn’t interfere with your schedule, she had spent all day cooking you a wonderful 3-course meal which consisted of all of your favorite foods. As well as a large batch of chocolate chip cookies that would last you a solid month so long as you put them in the freezer. 

She smiled at the thought of you as she rolled out the homemade pasta she was making you, how you had turned her world upside down as she navigated the unfamiliar territory of being the newest and youngest Avenger, just having you made her feel like she was so much better than before, and Wanda fell so so deeply in love with you and she never wanted to stop. 

She wanted to give you the world. 

She thought about how kind you were, how you cared so deeply for everyone, always stopping to help wherever and whenever you could. Wanda felt so special to be the partner of someone so undeniably incredible.

Suddenly, the oven beeps, snapping her out of her thoughts as she pulls out the chicken to go along with your pasta, the appetizer of calamari already prepared as it layed on a wire rack, as well as the chocolate chip cookies which she had prepared earlier in the day to make sure she had time to make enough.  

Once she finished up, she plated the table for the two of you as she had kicked everyone out for her special dinner with you, wanting you all to herself. She smiled as she lit the candles and set up the plates along with the knives and forks, laying the plate of calamari in the middle as she kept her entree and dessert a secret from you. 

Hearing her phone go off, she grins once she sees that you’ve texted that you’ve just arrived. 

Taking her apron off as quickly as possible, she rushes downstairs to open the door for you, exhilarated at the thought of seeing you. 

Swinging the door open, you smile softly at her while she grins, bursting forward to wrap you in a tight hug. 

“Hi,” you laugh, wrapping your arms around her. “Happy anniversary.”  

“Can you take a break from doctoring once in a while?” she mutters into your neck. 

“I wish,” you say, wrapping your arms tighter around her. 

Once she lets go, she grabs your hand to pull you upstairs, excited to surprise you. 

“Wanda, what’s the rush?” you ask as you make your way up the stairs. 

“I missed you too much, come on!” she says, making you laugh. 

Once you finally make it to the top floor, Wanda stops you from walking any further. “Close your eyes,” she says. 

You shoot her a look. 

“Trust me,” she says, pecking your lips quickly. 

Closing your eyes, you say, “What now?” 

“Okay, I’m gonna guide you,” she says excitedly as she stands behind you, starting to lead you to the dining room table. 

“This is not how I expected our anniversary to go.” 

“Just trust me,” Wanda says. 

Nodding, you continue to walk in the direction Wanda guides you before she stops you in place. 

“Okay, ready?” she says and you nod. “Three, two, one, open your eyes!” 

You open your eyes, and they widen in shock as you see the most beautiful candlelit dinner you’ve ever seen in your life. 

Wanda has swapped out the regular dining room table for a round one covered in a shiny white tablecloth, as well as swapped out the regular wooden chairs for more expensive looking ones that match the elegance of the table. The plates and utensils are arranged perfectly, along with the restaurant quality napkins that were beautifully folded so they were standing upright, absolutely nothing was out of place, and the calamari in the middle was cooked to perfection, the smell wafting towards you no doubt making you hungry. 

It looked like Wanda had taken the appearance of a michelin star restaurant and copied it to perfection right here in the Avengers compound.

But what was even more unbelievable was the string of lights she had arranged all throughout the room, from every nook and cranny, the lights brought a hope to the dinner that nearly brought tears to your eyes at how romantic and calm they made the room feel.  

And finally, to top it all off, right in the middle of the array of candles on the table was a large vase of your favorite flowers. 

Flowers you had only ever mentioned to her once when she asked you, and you had told her not to worry about it because you could only ever get them in New Zealand.  

“What do you think?” she asks, coming up behind you and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. 

You quickly turn to wrap her in a tight hug, squeezing so tightly you’re surprised she can even breathe. “I love you,” you breathe out. “So much.”  

Wanda laughs. “Does that mean you like it?” she says teasingly before continuing, “I love you too,” she kisses the crown of your head. 

Burrowing deeper into her, you mumble, “I can’t believe...I can’t believe I’m really here.” 

You remember how awful you felt 2 years ago, how hopeless you felt. How unworthy you felt. Now, standing here in Wanda’s arms, who you’re still convinced is much too good to be true, feeling so so loved, everything feels surreal. 

“I have the same thought about you,” Wanda says, her powers running amok as she accidentally reads your mind again and hears your thoughts about her. “You’re too good. Sometimes I can’t believe you exist.” 

“Stop,” you say as your cheeks turn red against her neck. 

“Happy anniversary,” she says softly. “I have another surprise for you.” 

That makes you look up. “What is it?” 

“Join me for dinner and I’ll tell you,” she says cheekily. 

“Why can’t you tell me now?” You pout. 

“Nice try, but I didn’t spend all day cooking this meal for nothing.” She runs her hands up and down your arms. “Besides, you deserve a nice relaxing dinner after all the work you’ve done the past few weeks.” 

You look up at her with a shimmering look in your eyes and a lovesick smile on your face. 

“What?” she laughs. 

“Just happy,” you reply, kissing her lips. 

“You deserve it,” Wanda says easily. “Now come on!”

She leads you over to the table by the hand, pulling out your chair for you as you sit down, planting a quick kiss on your lips before sitting down across from you. 

You share countless smiles and laughs as you have the best dinner of your life, zoning out a couple times as Wanda talks and you simply admire her for everything she is. 

And as you bite into your chocolate chip cookie after Wanda has revealed the enormous batch she made, she’s telling you what the surprise from earlier was. 

“So, I’ve checked your schedule,” she says excitedly. “And since you’re free this weekend I booked us a vacation in Palm Springs! The weather’s perfect, and you’ll finally get to relax after working so hard, plus, they have amazing grass tennis courts and I know you’ve been wanting to get back into playing since you don’t have much time for it anymore–” 

“Wanda,” you cut off softly, shaking your head. 

You can’t even begin to comprehend that tonight is real at all. 

“What?” she asks, looking at you with a smile.

“Every time I start to think you couldn’t get more perfect you just…” 

“I get the same feeling about you,” she says, making you blush. “But I’m not perfect.” She takes a hold of both of your hands and rubs her thumbs over the backs softly. “However, I do love you, so much, and I want to show it.” 

“Well, you’re perfect for me,” you reply, meeting her gaze and smiling softly as the two of you just stare at each other. But suddenly, it clicks in your head. “How did you know I used to play tennis?” 

Wanda blushes before she starts off shyly, “Um, before we started dating I went to your hospital to see if you were there, but you weren’t so I may have asked your oncology friends a couple things about you.” 

“So you stalked me?” you tease. 

“I couldn’t help it I had a crush on you!” she defends, letting go of your hands and putting her head into her arms. “I still have a crush on you.” 

“How embarrassing,” you comment with a chuckle. 

“It’s not embarrassing,” she defends as she lifts her head from her arms. “Have you seen how pretty you are?” 

You blush, ducking your head down so your hair covers your face slightly. Even after a year of dating Wanda always managed to fluster you to no end. 

“Wow, now who’s embarrassed,” Wanda teases back. 

“Shut up, I hate you,” you say, embarrassed. 

“Wow, that’s not very American of you,” she says with a chuckle. 

“Take that back,” you say, lifting your head and narrowing your eyes at her. 

“If you say yes to the Palm Springs trip.” 

“I thought I already said yes.” 

“Not verbally,” she emphasizes. 

“I’ll go anywhere you go,” you say easily. 

“Cute cop-out, but I need the word yes,” she says, sitting up and kissing your lips quickly before sitting back down. 

“Yes,” you relent with a smile. “I’ll go to Palm Springs with you.” 

“Good,” she smiles before a mischievous twinkle brings itself out in her eyes. “So I’ll get to watch you play tennis all weekend. I can already imagine how hot that’ll be…” 

“Why do you insist on teasing me?” 

“‘Cause you look so cute when you’re flustered.” 

You shake your head, taking a bite of your chocolate chip cookie to distract yourself from the way Wanda was making you feel. 

But instead she decides to mess with you even more, softly saying the words “so american” as she watches you. 

And Wanda telling you she loves you made you the most flustered of all. 

***

You had gotten Wanda a necklace for your anniversary, and she had gotten you a bracelet with both of your initials on them. 

Now, waking up in your hotel in Palm Springs, you smile once you see the bracelet on your wrist. You turn in bed to see if Wanda was there, but you frown once you see the empty spot next to you. 

Where was she? 

You wonder where she could be, because she would never leave to go to breakfast without you, nor would she head out without telling you where she was going after waking you up with a soft kiss. 

You don’t know where she could have gone. 

But soon, your question is answered as she enters the room, a large tray of your favorite breakfast foods in her hands as she greets you with a smile. 

You tilt your head in confusion. 

“Hi,” she says, setting down the tray and kissing you on the lips. “I made you breakfast.” 

Your heart flutters and your stomach fills with butterflies. “How did you manage to do this?” 

“Turns out that locked room isn’t a closet, but a tiny kitchen,” she explains, pointing to the aforementioned room. “I found out after I woke up early this morning by accident.” 

“I missed you,” you say, hugging her side. “Where’d you get the food from?” 

“Magic,” she replies easily.

“Oh, right, I forgot I’m dating a witch,” you chuckle, hugging her tighter. 

“I’m not a witch,” she says defiantly. “I was voted most powerful Avenger at Tony’s ceremony last year.” 

“They’re right,” you say, looking over to the breakfast tray and smiling once you see the gorgeous rose that lays on its side. “But that doesn’t mean you’re not a witch.” 

“I’m a not-witch who’s really in love with you.” 

“And I’m a not-doctor who’s really in love with you.” 

“Well, then we agree to disagree,” she says, putting the tray in front of you, silently telling you to start enjoying your meal. 

“Mhm,” you say, eating a forkful of the omelet she had prepared and moaning at the taste. “Where’d you learn to cook?” 

“My mother taught me, back in Sokovia,” she says quickly, heat flushing to her cheeks after she hears the sound you had made. Shifting from her position on the bed to move behind you, she gently shifts you forward slightly so she can sit behind you and outstretch her legs as she wraps her arms around your middle.  

You lean your head back to rest against her shoulder. “She taught you really well,” you say, closing your eyes. 

“Detka, are you gonna fall asleep while eating breakfast?” she laughs. 

“No, I’m just savoring this moment,” you reply, kissing her shoulder. “And I want to savor this breakfast too.” 

“Yeah? I’m that good?” she says with a chuckle. 

“You are,” you say, opening your eyes to look up at her. “In fact, I might marry you right now if you keep this up.” 

“I’d do it every day just for you,” she replies, kissing your lips. 

And when you smile at her, that beautiful smile that makes Wanda’s heart beat faster than she can comprehend, she seriously considers pulling out the ring from her pocket to propose to you right in your hotel room. 

***

“Baby? Wake up,” Wanda whispers, bright and early in the morning on September 8th. 

You groan, not wanting to get up. 

Wanda laughs. “Come on, it’s your birthday,” she says, kissing you on your forehead. 

“Doesn’t that mean I should get to sleep in,” you grumble, burying yourself deeper into the pillows. “Come cuddle with me,” you say, sleepily patting the spot next to you where Wanda had slept last night. 

“As much as I would love to, if I cuddle you right now you’re only gonna end up sleeping for another hour. And there’s a bunch of things prepared for your special day,” she says softly. 

“Another hour sounds great, thanks,” you mumble as you start to feel yourself drift off. 

“No, no, no, come on!” she laughs, gently pulling the blankets off your body. 

“It’s cold,” you groan as the air of the room starts to wash over your body.

“Because you and I sleep in negative degrees,” Wanda says teasingly before gently sitting down on your bed to hug you tightly. 

After a few minutes, you accept your fate as you sit up with a sigh against the headboard, Wanda letting go of you to grab the glass of water on your nightstand to hand to you. 

“Happy birthday,” she says softly as you take a sip of the water and she watches you with a smile. 

You kiss her gently. “Thanks.” 

“How’d you sleep?” she asks. 

“Really well.” You grin. “I got to cuddle with you all night.” 

“Last night must have helped too–” 

“I will throw this water in your face if you finish that sentence,” you cut her off, starting to blush. 

“I wouldn’t mind,” she says with a smirk. “You’re really hot when you’re angry.” 

“So, theoretically if I yelled at you, you’d just end up wanting to have sex?” 

“First,” she says. “You would never yell at me.” You give her a look, and she just smiles smugly because she knows she’s right. You were way too nice to ever yell at anyone. Even animals. “And second, yes, that’s usually how that works.” 

“You’re a middle school boy,” you say with a shake of your head. 

Wanda just smiles before kissing you deeply. “Can’t help it.” She brushes a strand of hair away from your face. “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” 

“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” you say back. 

Wanda grins. “Ready for your birthday?” she asks, standing up from the bed and holding out her hand for you to take. 

You nod, smiling as you take it and stand up, kissing her quickly before she starts to take you through the day she had planned. 

And when you’re back, cutting into your birthday cake to hand out to the team members (Natasha was on a mission in Africa) which Wanda had baked, you’re back after a sunrise picnic full of your favorite foods, a relaxing walk across the beach, lunch at your favorite diner, a tour of your favorite locations in New York City as well as somehow meeting your favorite tennis player on the Arthur Ashe stadium of the US Open (you have absolutely no clue how Wanda pulled that off), you turn to your incredible girlfriend, who’s already staring at you with an adoring gaze in her eyes. 

Softly, you say, “I’m so in love with you.” 

You never knew your heart could ever feel this full. 

“I’m so in love with you too,” she replies, kissing you in the most gentle way yet somehow still communicating the deepest sense of passion. “Happy 24th, detka.” 

You want to cry, you want to cry the happiest tears of your life because, god, you have no idea how you got so lucky to have this woman in your life. 

But instead, you kiss her on the lips, hoping it says everything you need to. 

And Wanda knows exactly what you’re saying. 

***

“Oh, my god, what if it’s too much!” you ramble to Yelena as you pace back and forth in your apartment back home. 

“You’ve been dating her for 4 years, you idiot,” Yelena replies, rolling her eyes. 

“Exactly! What if this is like a 5-year thing, or 7 years– Or, god, I don’t know!” 

“Y/N,” she says, grabbing your attention. “Listen, this is ridiculous. That girl is so disgustingly in love with you, you could tell her you’ve hated her all this time and she would still think you gave her the sun or something.” 

You frown. “I could never hate Wanda.” 

“God, you two are insufferable,” Yelena sighs. 

But Yelena’s secretly so happy to see that you’ve finally found someone who treats you the way you deserve to be treated. 

“Hey!” 

“For God’s sake, just go tell her you don’t like ravioli.” 

“It’s her favorite food! We eat it every Thursday just for her!” 

“It’s actually you who’s her favorite food.”

“What? Yelena, I swear–” 

Later that day, Wanda accepts your revelation with a smile on her face and a kiss on your cheek. 

***

“Wanda,” you say softly as you two walk hand-in-hand through the streets of New York. 

“Yeah?” she says, turning to face you with a small smile. 

“So, I don’t want to assume this,” you pause, fidgeting with your fingers nervously. “But, will you go out to dinner with me?” 

Wanda grins. “We’ve been dating for four years and you don’t want to assume that I’ll go to dinner with you?” 

“Well, you might be busy!” you defend. 

Wanda laughs. “I’m never too busy for you, milaya.” 

“You’re just saying that. What if there’s a criminal who shows up out of the blue and you’re needed for superhero business or something…” 

“Then we’ll reschedule,” Wanda says, shrugging. “And I’ll make sure I always have time for you.” 

You bite your lip anxiously. “What if…what if you don’t come back one day?” your voice trembles. 

“Oh, baby,” Wanda says, hugging you. “I’ll always come back to you.” 

“You can’t know that,” you mumble into her shirt. 

“But I do,” she says, holding you by your shoulders and pulling away slightly. “Because you’re worth every bit fighting for, and I’ll always make sure that I keep fighting until I see your face again.” 

Wanda frowns as she watches the tears roll down your cheeks. 

Wiping them away with her thumb, she says softly, “I love you. I’ll always come back to the person I love most in the world.” 

“I love you too,” you reply, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” she tells you. “I’m always happy to care for you.” 

“I’m really hopelessly in love with you,” you say quietly only for Wanda to hear. 

“The feeling’s mutual, detka.” 

***

Wanda was going to propose to you tonight. 

It was almost Christmas, which she had found out in your first year of dating was your favorite time of year (besides her birthday or your guys’ anniversary) because it made you feel like you belonged somewhere. 

Wanda smiled while she watched you from the couch, biting the nail of your thumb as you thought carefully of which ornament to put next on the Christmas tree. 

She was so in love with you, your work ethic, how much you cared for her, how loved you made her feel. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with you. 

“Wanda?” you ask, snapping her out of her thoughts. 

“Yeah, detka?” she replies, looking over at you. 

You point to the box of blue and silver ornaments by her feet. “Can you pass me the silver one shaped like a Christmas tree?” 

Nodding, she grabs the ornament from the box and makes her way over to you, hugging you from behind as you placed it carefully on the branch only a little bit taller than you. 

“How does it look?” you ask with a smile, turning your head slightly to kiss her on the cheek. 

“Even better than last year,” she replies, squeezing you tighter. 

If someone didn’t stop her soon, she was going to propose to you right then and there. 

In order to stop herself, she clears her throat and steps back from you a bit, letting go, hoping you don’t notice her actions. 

However, you know her too well, and you turn to look at her with a small furrow of your brows. 

Wanda gives an awkward smile. “Um, I’m gonna get started on the cookies,” she says, pointing towards the kitchen. 

“Okay,” you say slowly. 

Wanda nods, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving you to head towards the previously mentioned room. 

Once Wanda’s in the kitchen, she lets out a sigh, wondering how she was going to get through the day without breaking down due to her nerves. Wanda checked her back pocket, making sure the ring was still there, and felt a sense of relief once she felt it’s black box. 

She had it planned perfectly. After tonight’s holiday party with the team (which she had exclusively made sure Natasha could not make it), she was going to take you to the coffee shop where you two had first met, then she was going to take you to Shakespeare’s garden where you two had first admitted you loved each other, and she was going to officially propose to you at the firework show she had begged Tony to help her host. 

Everything had to be perfect. 

“Wanda?” you startled her out of her thoughts as you knocked on the doorway. Furrowing your brows, you ask, “are you alright?”

“What? Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine…” Wanda replies awkwardly, looking down at her feet and shifting awkwardly. 

You laugh slightly, “Baby, you haven’t even started on the cookies.” You walk over to her, seeing nothing but two eggs on the counter in front of her and nothing else. 

Wanda gulps slightly at your close proximity. How stupid that she had been dating you for 6 years yet you still made her feel like a teenager in high school. “I did…” she says weakly. 

“Oh yeah?” you tease. “How delicious if we left out two eggs with milk for Old St. Nick?” You pick up an egg between your fingers to show her. 

“It’ll give him something new to try,” Wanda shrugs. 

Sighing, you put the egg down, and cup your girlfriend’s cheeks in your hands, rubbing your thumbs over them. “What’s going on?” you say gently. 

“Just nervous,” Wanda admits. 

“Nervous for what?” you ask, brushing a tendril of hair away from her face. 

“You make me nervous,” Wanda says, relenting as she rests her forehead on your shoulder. “You’re so perfect,” she mumbles into your shirt.

Your heart feels like it might explode. “I don’t understand,” you say as you shake your head. “How are you the nervous one yet somehow you still make me feel like I’m gonna burst with happiness?” 

Wanda smiles against your shirt. “It’s ‘cause I love you.”

“And I love you,” you reply.  

“You know, we still have about 2 hours until Tony’s party…” she says suggestively, starting to kiss her way up your neck. 

“More than enough time for you to help me finish the tree,” you say lightheartedly. 

Wanda groans. “I hate you.” 

“Too late, you’re stuck with me already.” You grin as you grab her hand and lead her into the living room, the cookies unspokenly abandoned. 

Little did you know, Wanda wanted nothing more than to be stuck with you for the rest of her life. 

And tonight, she was going to make it official. 

***

“Why the fuck is it so cold,” Wanda muttered, rubbing her bare arms to warm herself up, before intertwining your hands once again. “It’s way colder than the temperature you and I sleep in.” 

“Because Pepper’s here,” you say easily. “And Tony turns the place into an ice box just for her.” 

“Can’t he just invite some sort of nano-machine that keeps it cold for her all the time? He’s got the money,” Wanda says bitterly. 

You chuckle. “Come on, grumpy,” you start to pull her onto the dance floor. “This ought to warm you up.” 

Wanda accepts as you wrap your arms around her shoulders and she wraps hers around your waist, the two of you becoming lost in your own little world as you admire one another in your respective dresses. 

“You look so pretty,” she tells you, awestruck at your beauty. 

“So do you,” you say, taking her in before resting your head on her shoulder, swaying as the two of you try to stay as close as you possibly can. 

Wanda closes her eyes as she rests her cheek on the crown of your head, feeling so content with you in her arms. 

“When did you first know?” you whisper next to her ear. 

“When you made that stupid pun,” Wanda says, and she giggles once she hears you groan in embarrassment. 

“That’s the worst one you could’ve said,” you say, lifting your head up from her shoulder to meet her gaze.

“Can’t help it,” she says, kissing you quickly. “It was so adorable.” 

“I still think it’s insane that you actually find me funny,” you shake your head. 

“I’ll laugh at all your jokes,” she replies easily. “It’s one of the reasons I fell in love with you.”

“Are all Sokovians this romantic?” 

“Are all Americans this incredible?” 

You both grin stupidly at each other before the two of you can’t take it and kiss each other deeply, pouring every ounce of love you feel for one another.  

“Nope,” Wanda says as she pulls away. “Just my so American girlfriend.” 

You smile, kissing her again, and again, and again. 

And Wanda thinks it wasn’t fair of you either, to make her feel this much. 

***

“Wanda, where are we going?” you laugh as she pulls you through the streets of New York. 

“I need to show you something, come on!” she says, stopping once you realize where she’s brought the two of you. 

The coffee shop where you first met. 

“What are we doing here?” you ask, unable to stop the cheesy grin that makes its way onto your face. 

“It’s a surprise, come on,” she replies, opening the door for you and letting you in. Once she shuts the door behind her, you turn, and your eyes soften once you see the shiny look in her eyes. “I’m taking you on a tour,” she says, guiding you to the back table where you two had first spoken. 

“A tour of what?” you say, smiling as you follow her. 

“A tour of how much I love you.” 

And Wanda only falls deeper and deeper in love once she sees the happy tears in your eyes when she reveals your coffee cup from when the two of you had first met, which she had kept all this time. 

***

“No way,” you say with awe as your next stop comes into your line of sight, the coffee cup held safely in your hand at your side. 

“And I re-made the batch of cookies we shared that day,” Wanda said, pulling a tupperware of cookies from behind her back as you follow her onto the bridge of Shakespeare’s garden. 

“What made you do all this?” you ask, shaking your head in disbelief as you come up to her to wrap your arms around her shoulders. 

“It’s a surprise,” she replies, kissing you. “But for now, I want you to know how much you mean to me.” 

“I do,” you say easily. “Every day.” 

“Good,” Wanda grins. “And I’m gonna keep showing you.” 

***

Wanda might not even propose tonight. 

In fact, she doesn’t know if she’ll even remember as she’s lost in awe at how beautiful you look under the stars, holding the rail that separates you from the body of water in front of you while standing on top of a craggly rock, the booming fireworks causing your eyes to shine in a way that makes Wanda want to capture this moment forever.

But, she’s on a mission. 

And when it came to you, Wanda always put her best foot forward. 

“They’re so beautiful,” you say, completely in awe as you watch the colors explode in the sky. 

“Just like you,” Wanda says softly. 

“You know, I still really want to know why you did all this,” you say, turning to her and smiling once you see her already watching you. “I didn’t miss any special date, did I?” 

“Of course you didn’t, your google calendar is already filled to the brim,” she replies with a teasing roll of her eyes. 

“Well, if I didn’t have everything booked then you would forget all of your check-up appointments with your doctor,” you reply cheekily.

“You’re already a doctor.” 

“Not the right kind of doctor.” 

“You’re actually exactly my kind of doctor,” Wanda flirts, making you blush. 

“I hate you. That was awful,” you say as you turn away. 

And as you watch the fireworks in the sky once again, Wanda decides, now’s the time. 

Taking a deep breath and swallowing her nerves, she gets down on one knee. 

Then, almost robotically, she pulls out the ring, opening the box slowly, as if any sudden movement would cause the whole thing to shatter. 

She just needed you to turn her way. 

To turn your head slightly and see her message for you. 

I want to spend the rest of my life by your side. 

It feels as if time has stopped. 

All she feels is the beating of her heart through her chest, the blood pounding in her ears, and her nerves washing over her over and over again– and all she needs is for you to look.  

It feels like hours before you–

Then, you do. 

And it’s slow, and careful, and gentle, and so you.  

You gasp. 

And Wanda shakily breathes out, “Will you marry me, detka?” 

Both of your hands cover your mouth, and tears build in your eyes. 

And Wanda feels the happiest she has ever felt–

When you croak out a yes. 

Wanda wants to keep this moment forever. She wants to remember how full her heart feels when she slips the ring onto your finger. The feel of your lips on her own when you kiss her hard through both of your tears and your laughs of disbelief. 

It’s the happiest day of her life. 

And it’s the happiest day of yours, too. 

***

“I’m so, so, in love with you,” you say as the two of you walk back to your shared home, wrapped in each other’s arms. 

“I’m so in love with you too, detka,” Wanda replies, kissing your temple as she holds you close. 

“When you were a kid, did you ever think you were going to have an American girlfriend?” you chuckle. 

“I never did,” Wanda admits with a smile. “But I couldn’t be happier that I ended up with a beautiful, so American fiancée.” 

You blush at the new title, hiding your reddening face in your fiancée’s neck. “Tonight doesn’t even feel real,” you mumble after a moment. 

Wanda laughs slightly. “Yeah, I know the feeling.” 

Suddenly, out of curiosity, you ask, “When did you buy that ring?” 

“A week after we started dating,” Wanda says resolutely. 

“What?” Your head snaps up from her neck. 

“I just knew,” Wanda says, kissing the tip of your nose. “I knew you were going to be my wife.” 

“That’s…” you shake your head in disbelief. “Wow.” 

Wanda pulls you closer to her. “It was the easiest thing I’ve ever known. Wanna know why?” 

“Why?” you ask. 

“Because, from the first day I met you, I knew, you were everything to me. And you still are.” 

Your eyes start to water. “I’m everything to you?” 

“You are,” Wanda nods, kissing the crown of your head with so much tenderness it makes you want to cry. 

But, you don’t start to cry because of the kiss. 

And you don’t start to cry out of joy although you really, really want to. 

No. The tears finally escape your eyes as you realize that you finally have everything you’ve ever wanted. 

That you’re finally, finally everything to somebody else. 

“You’re everything to me too.” 

[ybklix]

𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲

dear lord, when i get to heaven, please let me bring my man (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ fr omg

★ pairing: idol!lee felix x fem!reader

✦summary: You got your dream job on one of the most important day for fashion industry, everything seems like a fairy tale, until you meet one of the people you are working for, which complicates your thoughts, a guy with an angelic face, however he is for you the devil wearing custom couture Tommy Hilfiger.

✭ content - tags - warnings: smut / one night stand / use of “y/n”/ handjob / oral sex / soft degrading / dom felix / semi public sex / unprotected sex / etc lol

word count: 5.1k

(masterlist)

♡ notes: 2024 felix at the met gala ♡

a/n: had to write smth ab my man looking this good on a big day, oopsies / all fiction, don't really know how's behind scenes lol / i'm watching the series so i'm romanticizing the carrie type of writing, enjoy!

There’s an old saying… “what happens in Vegas, stay in Vegas”, and for the New Yorkers with enough amount of luck, the equivalent of that would be: “what happens in the Met Gala, stays in the Met gala.”

You either had to be a celebrity with high status, or a very wealthy person… or sometimes, just part of the staff; yes you were in last link, but you were still happy.

There you were, on the first Monday of May, standing outside of the iconic decorated stairs of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, on the also iconic, 5th avenue of East side of Manhattan. Living your dream, because this year, you were inside, and not anymore as a viewer.

Life was going great for you, you’ll graduate from college exactly in nine days, and you were booked as a tour guide in the Met Gala a month ago. It was your dream job, even though you majored in journalism, working for Vogue was always your dream to be, you’ve been applying for the Met ever since you turned eighteen, and finally there you were wearing a vintage YSL black dress, from a vintage store in Soho, whose rent costs more than you apartment’s, with some Manolo shoes, living your little Carrie Bradshaw fantasy. But that didn’t matter, yeah, she was a woman with a steady job and you only a freshly graduated who expected to get hired as soon as you get your diploma.

They prepared you the whole past month, and you picked up your ID last week; this was going to look wonderful in your resume. You loved fashion, arts, writing, you didn’t care there was another 500 people doing exactly the same as you, you were there, living inside your bubble of the gossip girl and devil wears Prada vibes.

A lot of people hated New York; but you never could, you had a nice apartment on west side of Manhattan and an incredible fashion taste. You had to work as a staff for one the most emerging kpop groups, Stray Kids, or at least that’s what you read about online, you did your research: eight male members, only two of them fluent in English and the rest of them just shy to speak it out loud… you weren’t that unfamiliar at all, you recognized kpop is one of the greatest genres these days, but you were twenty one and going through your finals as the provided you that information, so you followed their social medias, caught up a little in their updates, learned their names and faces —which was very important—, but couldn’t fully concentrate in how handsome they were or at least get yourself a little of fangirlism. Once again, you were sinking in the lasts and very important moments of college.

So the thing was simple, they usually bring their own people around but for this event was the exception, once they stepped on the radar of these popular stairs, they were under the Met Gala staff, that’s when you get in.

You were waiting for them standing among the group of people who would be working the same as you, all with their dress code in black-only etiquette, to go unnoticed. It was your first Met Gala, although you didn't want to flatter yourself either in such a big way, but you had chosen a sexy dress with your back uncovered, you wanted simplicity, but not too much. The heels were starting to bother you a bit until, as fate would have it, a stout black man in charge of monitoring, with headphones on his bald head and clipboard in his hand shouted in a strong New York accent to the group of people you were in.

“The following celebrities are Stray Kids, I repeat so you can listen in the back, Stray Kids is coming! Their team step up to lead them in.”

Nerves got the better of you, it was your turn; you had seen your other ‘colleagues’ guide their respective assigned celebrities, so now it was your time. You hurried to the entrance, along with another girl and two other men. The large black van pulled up to sidewalk and finally, just as you had researched, eight pretty East Asian looking men exited one by one.

You tried to identify the one you had previously studied as their leader and one of the English speakers, until he finally emerged just to one side of you.

“It's this way, boys” your coworker, who was a little ahead of you, led the way.

The eight of them walked a bit and met their designer, the legitimate Tommy Hilfiger, while among the chaos of noise and nerves you tried to identify each one you were working for; they were all wearing long coats but you could distinguish that it was just to hide their real attire.

But apparently you were not the only one nervous, it was also their first Met Gala, an incredibly big event, a bit out of what they knew, in one of the countries where the music market was of utmost importance to consider and succeed, each one of them recognized that this was an important day and simply one more step in their artistic career. They were all nervous and excited; but even so you noticed a somewhat monotonous expression on each of them, you thought it was just nerves. You got a good look at them all as they talked to their designer in charge and noticed how each one had their own charm, they were attractive and smelled quite nice. You thought about how much fun this job is for you, being around celebrities.

“And y/n, right?” he came up to you, the man who had previously been giving directions to your boys.

You nodded, confused, he went on to say:

“I’m informed that you will be going into the museum with them, you can take the lead” he said in a strangely kind tone.

You smiled at him, you had forgotten the last time you met a nice New Yorker. It was when you realized it was time, you took a breath with your cheeks and released them, once you saw they finished their little talk, you took a step so everyone could see you and introduced yourself; it was part of your job and you had been trained for it. You started with a “hi, guys”, told them your name and added that you would accompany them to the exhibit. You looked forward to going in there.

You got the attention of all eight of them, after all they were still men, foreign men excited for a new experience. Once you turned around as you led the way you questioned if wearing that open back dress was the best choice, you hadn't really intended it that way; you also didn't expect them all to be 100 times more attractive in person, the pictures you saw on the internet didn't do them justice.

All the members of Stray Kids were with their respective emotions on edge, but especially one of them didn't know how to control himself. Felix, who at all times kept a serious countenance was more than excited and his body was reacting to it, betraying him, he was aroused. He wasn't exactly in the mood for sex, but somehow he felt uncomfortably hard. He was simply an excited little Asian boy with a not-so-little problem. An erection in his pants.

Felix had the experience at these kinds of fashion events, but simply something about this city drove him incredibly crazy. Somehow he was thirsty for sex… but he didn't feel like he was at this very moment. He had to put on his best show and control his body, he slyly checked his pants and it was a relief that the design was perfectly loose so it couldn't be noticed. But it all got worse when he saw his pretty young guide and staff for tonight, with her pretty makeup and perfect hair done, with her back uncovered.

Felix read her name on her ID hanging on her body and checked slyly if anyone else of his friends and colleagues thought the same as him… he could notice it in the look of his friend Bang Chan, however Felix noticed the little importance that Chan himself gave her and continued treating her with kindness and courtesy, who from time to time gave her a certain look was his other friend Seungmin, who was the master of disguise, but not for Felix, not after knowing him so long and living with him.

But that was just the thrill of the moment, as Felix took full control of his body as he approached his final stretch, an interview and then the longed-for Met Gala stairs. Like a pro idol, he knew how to handle it, and everyone had a spectacular and memorable entrance.

You saw them from afar, Bang Chan had introduced you to each one of them and thanked you for accompanying them even though you hadn’t start yet, you thought he was an unreal man, in fact all eight of them were, their perfectly manicured faces and the subtlety of their make-up were to you so…. You were speechless; but if you had to choose one, putting yourself in the shoes of millions of girls around the world even of your age discovering an attractive boy band, maybe among them all… it would be the only blond guy with long hair. You thought between sighs how cute he was, you were down bad when it came to cute boys, also the long-haired ones.

You remembered his name, Felix; a little strange, it sounded like an old name but somehow it fit him so well, you thought; now you were not only fulfilling your dream job, you would be together with eight handsome men, you almost wanted to let out a little giggle, but it was time to monitor how well they took the pictures of your “bosses” as they posed on the carpet.

You waited a moment more before finally entering, it seemed like hours, until finally the doors opened for you and there suddenly you felt your heart burst, not even Felix's pretty face could have impacted you so much, the exhibition of unique pieces in the haute couture of fashion history.

“You can start to separate and see freely” you mentioned to them.

You saw them, they looked totally lost.

“Mm, I don't think so, we like to stay together” Chan answered with a nervous smile.

“Well, if you like, we can start here…” you spoke.

You didn't want to keep them tied up nor did you want to feel like a big deal, you were only going to accompany them and follow their instructions, however they seemed to follow yours; you gave yourself the task of showing them every corner and giving them a little summary of what each exhibit meant, however you couldn't help hiding your excitement, your eyes shone with care and all eight noticed your adorable expression, even those who couldn't fully understand you because of the language barrier, your expressions spoke for themselves. And Felix couldn't take his eyes off you the whole tour.

Felix didn't understand what was wrong with him, whether it was the excitement of the foreigner, the significant change of time zone, his pretty part of the assigned staff, or the incredible urge to have sex. He wasn't normally like that… well, at least not in places like these. He left the dirty thoughts for later when he was in the quiet of solitude. But just now he had those thoughts of how hot it must be to be fucking someone while wearing that perfectly tailored suit, making a mess among all the tidiness that went with it all.

He wasn't like that… but the more he thought about it, the more he was tempted, he thought it would be the only time he would see you, that you had to be professional and not at all indiscreet, that it would only be one night. He was becoming more and more convinced, what was wrong with him? He was handsome, young, successful and very well endowed, he only needed to show his gifts to someone. Felix thought if that someone could be you; this was not Felix who thinks dating and love were important, suddenly something came over him, like a haughty alter ego blinded by his dazzling fame, ready to just have sex.

The main event started, the dinner and the show, you had gotten a table, only confirmed by the exclusively selected staff in perhaps, one of the worst areas, still you were in, from going to see the Met outside on the street, to being seated next to a bunch of celebrities in the same room; you were so happy you could die the next day thinking you made it.

But once the show was over, little by little so was your spark, it was time to go back to your reality and take a cab home; the folks at that table were mentioning something about an after party, among them and a bunch more… but you didn't want the smell of celebrities and fame to leave your pores and get lost in some stranger's apartment.

You were about to check out when a short woman rushes up to you asking if there was any Stray Kids staff at the table.

“Here, me!” you showed her your ID quizzically. “What's going on?”

“What are you doing here? They're escorting you to the after party.”

Puzzled, you mumbled a “what?” and followed her hurried pace as she was leaving.

“After party, with who?”

The woman stopped in her tracks and turned to look at you.

“Well, who are you working for.”

Impossible, you thought. You were supposed to check out and you weren't allowed to go outside the museum, they couldn't just invite you like that, could they? Why would they? Besides you were working for the museum, not for them. Sadly, you had to make it clear to them.

You walked towards them who were already at the main exit leaving with other celebrities, you got up the courage and approached them.

“Nice to meet you guys, but I think it was a misunderstanding, I can't accompany you, I work for the museum… they didn't give me directions to follow you.”

“And what time do you leave?” Chan asked you with a hoarse voice and eyes fixed on you.

“Just now…” you added awkwardly, not knowing what to say as the eight men stared at you.

“Perfect” Chan said in a thick accent with a smile.

“Now you work for us, let's go to the after party” spoke in a cold, distant and arrogant tone the pretty blond boy who had caught your attention.

You had not heard him speak, not until now. You were too surprised by the contrast of his angelic face and his incredibly thick voice.

You were able to register your exit and hurriedly kept up with the boys.

“We liked the way you explained the exhibition, we will have you as translator now” Chan told you as he quickened his pace leaving you behind.

It didn't make the slightest sense what he just said. You don't even speak Korean.

You sighed and could not deny the excitement of living another adventure, it was not like they were forcing you, you were now going to go to the legendary Met Gala after party.

You got into a dark van along with more of their staff and in the minutes of traffic you were finally there. You couldn't believe it, for a moment you stopped thinking that things made sense.

Luckily you were not alone, but accompanied by another girl in the staff, all looked great but it was evident that no one wanted to socialize with you and it was difficult for you to do so; so you felt uncomfortable and out of place, questioning if you should really be there.

After a few minutes you noticed that Felix stood up from his seat, taking the button of his suit and slyly approached you.

“Can you come with me?” he whispered in your ear with his deep voice.

You froze, and followed him without thinking too much, something wasn't right when it came to him…. besides, you thought you had to follow his instructions.

Felix went to a private bathroom, you wanted to think that maybe he wanted you to take care of his coat… if not, why else would he ask you to accompany him; he entered quickly, in a suspicious way and then came out quickly looking around frantically, until he pulled you by the arm and took you with him to that small elegant bathroom, locking the door. You couldn't process the speed of the actions and suddenly, you saw his piercing gaze in front of yours.

What was going on?

Felix had enough, watching you flirtatiously talking to Chan, sweet talking all his friends, there was nothing else to explain but that he was horny and wanted to have you right now. You weren't stupid, you noticed his looks but wanted to ignore them, but it turns out that wasn't what he wanted.

So there you were, inwardly struggling whether to play along with whatever he intended to do or put your ethics above… you analyzed him, he looked so good with his long hair and white suit, you'd probably never see him again, you wanted to bite your lip just thinking about how dangerous and fast-paced some kind of sex like that would be, on the sly. But you couldn't make up your mind, this was about Conde Nast, your dream, not easy access to fuck.

Felix noticed too the early darkness in your gaze, reflecting lust, he was already hard from just thinking about your ass slapping his pelvis as he thrust his cock in and out your pussy mercilessly. You so wet, making a mess, the two of you indulging in passion while a bunch of people decide to party outside.

“I don't normally do this but… I may only see you once in my life…”

Felix said in a voice thicker than what you had heard and came dangerously close to you, who were glued to the door, perplexed.

“Felix…” you wanted to think clearly but his full lips in a perfect heart shape were distracting you.

“If you want to fuck me… you have to promise me to never tell anyone.”

Felix whispered plaintiff in your left ear, losing himself in the scent of you hair. You couldn't take it anymore, if he kept talking, you might cum at any moment.

You understood the situation of things and the importance of his comment, after all he was still a global superstar. But not telling would not only be a beautiful secret to take to your grave and something fun to remember, but it would also be beneficial for you, because under no circumstances should a female employee have sex with her assigned celebrity. You would be banned from all of Manhattan or the city if possible, public enemy number one.

He moved closer to your ear, thinly brushing his lips on it and making you lose control little by little by his approach. You closed your eyes, completely lost, fuck it, you would fuck him and never see him again, at least not this intimacy.

“Why would I fuck and tell...?” you whispered completely lost in desire.

He chuckled, and finally grabbed you by the waist. Felix sought your lips and you kissed slowly, deeply and passionately, the kiss was so strong that you felt the pressure of his upturned nose on your face. You knew it was so wrong at any angle analyzed… but it felt so right, his lips were soft and he moved them with agility, your hands were still glued to the wall in surprise, but gradually you relaxed and managed to hold on to the ends of his jacket.

Felix also relaxed and his right hand moved down to your naked back and slowly and nimbly he moved his hand in until he squeezed and caressed your ass, his actions surprised you that you almost moaned at the touch, separating you a little from the kiss.

He pulled a few inches away from your lips and, as he ran his hand all around your ass, he looked you over with a look of superiority.

“You're such a slut, only wearing a fucking thong, almost like you were ready for me” he said with a husky voice.

This time you felt his noticeable bulge brush against your belly and his soft touch made you wetter and wetter.

“Get on your knees, beautiful.”

He ordered and you obeyed. Felix was sick of feeling horny, he wanted a quick fix, to strip the tight garments off his cock and be attended to urgently, once he had enough of his own, he was going to take over pleasuring you fully.

Your breath was getting shorter and shorter and you felt his member on the fabric, you thought about how good he looked from below and in all possible angles, then you pulled down his pants, ready to give him the best blowjob ever —or at least you hoped so—, you couldn't resist, you simply pulled down his underwear too, finding his throbbing and delicious cock so needy, its tip was bright pink and poor Felix was already showing signs of small droplets of pre-seminal fluid, and to think he had a fine and angelic face…. You had never felt so hungry and desirous, you were totally possessed; you wanted it in your hands, in your mouth, pounding your face, pounding your cervix… so you felt it, that firm hard manly hunk, at the mercy of your hands, feeling every texture of his skin.

Felix gasped, lifting his buttoned shirt a little, revealing a bit of his smooth but working abdomen. You took some of his fluid and spread it all over his length, lubricating it, it felt so good, but you were also so needy and desperate, and the thin fabric covering your intimate area didn't help at all, you felt the garment getting smaller and smaller, you felt your wet pussy growing and throbbing causing a delicious friction; but you thought you had to be more careful, your whole outfit was black, one stain of semen or fluids and you had to pay for the dress.

You moved a little away from him, hoping that no droplets of him fell on your attire, still you held his erection tightly with your left hand, making frantic movements, back and forth.

He was ecstatic, it was all he needed, to be sexually attended to; the New York air suited Felix Lee wonderfully, and the New York girl… he thought… she was out of this world, her hands felt fantastic on his hard manhood. He wanted to cum roughly, but he wanted to do it dirty in his employee's mouth and pretty face… he would never act like the beastly thing he was doing in Seoul, but new place, try new things.

So between sighs and gasps, he lowered his gaze and tried to communicate with her.

“Use your pretty mouth.”

You never thought he was going to ask, you didn't hesitate for a second, and the grotesque sound of your saliva dripping on his cock were heavenly; his sex was hot and smooth, the texture felt so good inside your cheeks but once again, you are desperate for him to take you and start moving your guts.

Within minutes, Felix cum in your mouth amid moans and groans, and the softest but most effective hair pulls, to make you go exquisitely deeper. You never thought he was so vocal, with a voice like that, you were in heaven; and it took you only a few seconds to drink his cum, as a reward.

“I think we need to get rid of that dress” he said trying to catch his breath. “I'll buy you 3 more, no worries.”

He took you by the chin, inviting you to stand up and helped you take off the dress, you were so excited that your vision was blurred and you couldn't think clearly… what was his next move….

You were amazed at how incredibly hard and standing still he was even after he had just cum, you thought, after all kpop idols did have it all, great stage presence, big penis, music talent, and for sex too.

He sat you on the small counter, him facing the mirror, the stone was cold and you were finally, almost, completely naked in front of him, wearing only your thin thong. Felix wasted no time and positioned himself between your legs, kissing you deeply and desperately as you carefully felt the tip of his penis brush your wet center each time they came closer, he moved his kisses down, to your neck, massaged your breasts and kissed and sucked them mercilessly, you wanted to scream with excitement but you were acutely aware that there were people outside, never mind the noise of the party. Once on your chest, he turned his angelic face up, with a dark mischievous look and that's when you felt his thumb caress your clit.

You moaned in relief, finally your exhausted pussy was going to be given attention. His movements were slow until each time he increased the acceleration, you couldn't help but writhe in pleasure and when your body contracted ready to climax, Felix introduced his fingers inside you, he felt the softness of your insides so lubricated and ready to feel his erection beating you frantically.

“Look at me” he asked once he saw that your attention was focused for a few seconds on his right hand playing with your pussy.

“Uh-mm” you murmured, nodding softly, almost in moans.

You weren't thinking clearly but decided to hold back the urge to cum just to feel his fingers inside you for a few more moments. You looked into his big dark eyes; you felt that he looked more calm and serious with that gaze locked on you and his innocent freckled look, unlike you that your eyes was totally submissive and you were almost about to cry with pleasure, oh and Felix loved that, all that mess because of him.

“I'm going to cum, Fe…” you moaned.

But you couldn't even speak, he accelerated his movements and your belly contracted so pleasantly bringing you to your first orgasm.

“I'm not done yet; let me clean up that mess you made.”

And without warning, Felix leaned down, gripping your thighs tightly, two of his fingers still freshly wet from my fluids, marked on your thigh; Felix ran his hot tongue across your cunt, licking all your cum.

He began to eat your pussy carefully, almost accomplishing step by step and you loved the delicacy of what he was doing, you were seeing stars, you didn't want this to ever end, you wanted him on you all the time. You took advantage and also took hold of his tightly tied hair. He did it so well that you had to cum a second time.

And finally, the act you both had been waiting for since he locked the door; Felix had saved the urge and was once again swollen and throbbing, screaming for attention and action. He cleaned the edges of his mouth in a attractive manner.

“Shit, I don't have a condom” he said in annoyance.

“It's okay, I'd never have your baby anyway.”

Felix smiled and you watched his erection in front of your pussy, until he gently pushed it in, until you closed your eyes once again in pleasure.

“I'm going to cum inside you and make sure your pussy misses every part of me.”

Felix whispered hotly in your right ear as you pressed your bodies closer and closer together, until you ended up with your legs wrapped around his waist, crushing bit of his outfit, and your hands on his shoulders. And then, he rammed you fast and as delicious as no one else had ever done, you moaned softly to avoid any strange noises from outside. It was incredible, you thought, his rhythm was strong and constant and when you began to lubricate his penis more indicating your soon orgasm, Felix separated from you and in quick movements he changed your position, lowered you from the counter, turned your body and introduced his penis making you stand still and making you both see yourselves in the mirror.

You couldn't be happier, you loved the fiction of his shirts stuck to your body of the clothes he still had on, and he began to pound more frantically and wildly, giving way to the sound of your skins colliding and your fluids combining. Felix held you tightly by the waist as he pulled your body away and closer, controlling it in his own way, you wanted to help him, moving your ass a little but his grip was too strong. You were with your back arched, holding tightly to the sink, giving choked moans as you felt his strong thrusts. Watching him fuck you in the mirror was fucking hot, he looked so attractive with his half-open mouth letting out soft moans and his concentrated countenance, frowning and his eyes locked on your ass, then on you.

Felix grabbed your hair in his fist and pulled it to pull you closer to him and glued you to his body, just when you thought it couldn't get any better, his thrusts were deeper that way and you were touching the edge.

“Do you like the way I fuck you, little slut, huh?”

You tried to nod between gripping your hair.

“Say it.”

“Yes-yes, Felix, ahh it feels good.”

“You feel good too, sweetheart, you're doing a great job.”

His dirty talk close to your ear were just more elements to make you cum faster and faster and each time you were more and more surprised, as his pace increased, finally making you climax, for the third time.

Felix smiled in victory as he felt your pussy muscles first tighten and then relax releasing more of your luscious fluids, wetting and hugging his hard cock, Felix continued another small moment, until he cum gloriously inside you and a little more above your ass.

You were perplexed. The sexual connection had been real. You both tried to catch your breath, he helped you put your dress back on and as you changed, Felix felt a little bad about just using you for his carnal desires, for you honestly it had been just a good fuck and you had your feet on the ground being aware that someone like him and you could never be together.

“So… Are you officially working on something related for Vogue?”

You smiled, as you tried to touch up your makeup, it was a bit badly retouched.

“No, it's my dream, they just hired me as a one-off for this year.”

“Maybe you should learn Korean and move there, Vogue Korea is still Vogue, isn't it?” he mentioned flirtatiously.

You chuckled again, that implied many things and at the same time none for you.

“Go out first, y/n, then I'll go out. I'll transfer you for the dresses outside, I don't even have my phone here” he said, finally in his deep voice calmer, almost looking tender, in his thick accent.

You smiled and looked at him one last time, before finally leaving for the party. Leaving you wanting more, but also with nothing more than just sex in the city.

[mariasont]

Dress Code - S.R

a/n: got a little carried away with this one, but ugh just imagining spencer reid coming to my defense has me down BAD

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader

summary: in which spencer reid doesn't appreciate an agent questioning the length of your skirt

warnings: fluff, a rando flirting/being rude with the reader, mini skirts 4 life, definitely not appropriate for work but spencer doesn't give a FUCK

wc: 1.5k

"Interesting choice of attire for the FBI," the man's voice commented as you paused in the midst of penciling in his meeting with Chief Cruz. "Isn't that skirt a bit... short?"

The man was tall, though not quite as tall as Dr. Reid. His hair, a dark shade that caught the light as he moved (more so because of the liberal amount of gel in it), was neatly trimmed, but it lacked the effortless charm of Spencer's curls.

You had unwittingly set a standard, with Dr. Reid as the benchmark. You tried to go on dates, to distract yourself from the boy genius, but those dates turned into a mental tally--he's not as smart as Spencer, not as kind, not as attractive. 

Maintaining an unshakeable smile, you stood up from your work area. "You think? I just love how it twirls when I spin!"

You demonstrated--the pleated hem of your pink tweed skirt billowing out around you. You wobbled on your heels, a giggle escaping you as you used the desk to steady yourself. Spencer's gaze followed your every move as you tucked a couple stray curls behind your ears.

Spencer intended to maintain a respectful distance, to grant you some space, but he found himself consistently drawn towards you, as if pulled by gravity itself. You were irresistibly captivating, and it wasn't lost on him that this allure undoubtedly affected others just as much.  

His gaze sharpened into a glare, almost tangible in its intensity, directed at the man who hovered too close in your personal space, eyes trailing where they shouldn't as the fabric of your skirt fluttered with your movements.

The agent let out a soft laugh, inching forward to prop his elbows on the desk's edge, his eyes subtly scanning your legs. "I'd wager it becomes quite the tactical distraction during interrogations."

"Oh, I don't go into the interrogation rooms, silly!" you laugh, a melodic ripple in the air, as you ease back down into your chair. 

You cross your legs, one over the other, the action accentuating the graceful lines of your figure, skirt settling into place with a soft rustle. 

The man's smirk broadened, his eyebrow lifting in a choreographed motion. "You don't say?"

Your smile is radiant, blissfully unaware of the sarcasm in his voice. You tilt your head, a soft gesture as you rearrange a vase brimming with colorful flowers on your desk--a thank-you from Garcia for the cupcakes you gifted her with last week.

"Yep! I'm the first face people see here, and I want to make sure it's a good one!"

He nodded slowly, a sly grin spreading across his features. "The first face, huh? I suppose with a view like that, it's hard for anyone to get past the front desk. But isn't it a bit distracting for the agents?"

"I believe it's all about focus. And our team has an exceptional ability to focus, no matter the environment."

It was a welcome surprise to watch Dr. Reid make his way toward you, his walk a familiar lanky stride that somehow managed to be both awkward and graceful. You like his tie today, still crooked, but charming, and it was decorated with blue stripes that trailed up the side. Despite the sharp lines of his suit, there was something so undeniably soft about him. 

"Dr. Reid, I..."

Spencer didn't let him finish his thought. "And speaking of work, I believe Chief Cruz is waiting on you for those files. Best not to make him wait."

You weren't speaking of work, but the agent was quick to excuse himself, nonetheless.

"He seems nice, doesn't he?"

Spencer's lips twitched, on the verge of breaking your idealistic bubble, but he stopped short, arrested by the sincerity shining in your eyes. The idea of spoiling your untainted perspective felt almost sacrilegious, not when your smile was so genuinely sugary it nearly could've brought him to his knees right then and there. 

"Yeah," he conceded, his eyes trailing over your complacent face. "Nice."

You looked down at your skirt, plucking at a thread that had come undone. "You don't think it's too short, do you?"

You stood, ensuring he had a complete view, your palms delicately pressing the fabric down. Spencer's eyes opened a shade wider, the unexpected display catching him off guard. The skirt's length--or lack thereof--left little to the imagination, your thighs on full display, but he'd keep that thought to himself, and with any influence he had, everyone else would as well. 

"No, it's fine, you look lovely."

"Lovely?" your eyes basically shimmered in this light, your chin gently resting in the curve of your palm as you fixed him with an intent stare. "That's high praise."

"Deservedly so."

"Dr. Reid, I'm blushing."

And you were, pink radiating across your neck and cheeks, but he was sure a similar rosy shade was coloring the tips of his ears.

You rose from your chair, circling the desk to position yourself directly in front of him, close enough for him to detect the light scent of Dubble Bubble on your breath. He, almost instinctively, found himself leaning in your direction. 

"I just love how it feels," you noted, hand brushing against the cloth. "It's so soft, see?"

You extended the hem of your skirt towards him. Spencer's hand hesitated, then tentatively touched the fabric, clearing his throat in the process. He was even closer now, the scent of your perfume--what he thought was a mix of roses and a hint of citrus--engulfed him. The skirt was soft like you had said, but it was the warmth radiating from your skin that sent a jolt through him. 

His knuckles grazed against your thigh, whether intentional or not he really wasn't sure. His usual clarity wasn't up to par, not with you standing so close, looking so nice. The world seemed to spin when he was around you.

You let out a giggle, a soft and effervescent sound that seemed to steal the air from his lungs. "Do you see what I mean? It's like wearing a cloud."

His hand snapped back as if touched by fire, his face awash with a flustered glow. "Yes, it's...very soft," he managed, raking his fingers through his hair, his gaze darting to any point but your legs, the memory of its softness scattering his concentration.

You offered a beaming smile, naively unaware to the sheer havoc you wreaked on his senses. He needed to get back to work to prevent any rash decisions--like taking your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours right there, an act that would certainly mar his professional record. He also wasn't sure you'd appreciate that. 

As though you had plucked the thoughts straight from his mind, your fingertips brushed softly over his chest. "Goodness, I've been rambling on, haven't I? You probably have, like, super important stuff to do."

Your touch seemed to still the air between you, Spencer's breath hitching, momentarily losing his train of thought. "Oh, uh... well, no, it's actually kind of a slow day for me right now."

Your hand, moving from his chest to rest on his arm, offered a tender squeeze. "Oh, that's good, isn't it? You guys are always super busy, it's about time the universe gave you a break, huh?"

Just as Spencer opened his mouth to reply, you bit your lip, cheeks flushed with a sudden realization. "Oh no, I totally just jinxed it, didn't I?"

You quickly rapped your knuckles against the desk. 

Spencer cocked his head to the side, a bemused chuckle escaping him. "What?"

Your words bubbled over with delight, closing the gap between you and Spencer until you were almost chest to chest. "Look at this, I'm the one who is teaching you something for once!" Your smile was wide and uncontainable. "So, knocking on wood--it's supposed to ward off bad luck or reverse a jinx, just like I might have done."

A myriad of scientific retorts teetered on the tip of his tongue, each one ready to debunk the notion of luck and its superstitious rituals. But those thoughts dissolved in the glow of your smile, as radiant and illuminating as an 1800-watt lightbulb. 

"Really? That's fascinating," he mused, his smile soft. "I'll have to remember that."

"Right? Oh, and don't get me started on finding a four-leaf clover. I swear it's lucky. I found one once, and I had the best day ever."

To him, it seemed like you didn't have anything other than good days, despite the statistical improbability. 

"I don't doubt it," Spencer replied with a knowing smile. Noticing the same agent coming out of the hallway, he excused himself. "Well, I'm going to get back. I'll, uh, see you later?"

"You know where to find me," you said.

As you spun to retreat to your desk, he offered a last, discreet glance at your skirt, more specifically the shape of your ass in it, before following after the agent.

"Walk with me, yeah?" Spencer suggested, his tone leaving no room for argument. It was out of character for him, but the way his jaw tightened suggested he didn't care. Once the distance granted privacy from your ears, he stated plainly. "Her attire is not up for discussion. If there's a concern, I'm the one you talk to."

The remainder of his day passed just as slow, and in the back of his mind, he entertained the thought that he had your knock-on wood to thank for that.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[mills-73]

Ok first off I love love love your writings like it just hit the g-spot u know LOLOLOL

ANyway I wanna request you for a Ford x Reader fic where the reader sneaks under his desk as he’s writing / reading smth and gives him the gawk gawk 3000. Absolutely devouring him and Ford just losing it slowly like his hand writing slowly losing it’s curves / getting harder to focus on the paragraph 😋

Thank you so much for this hehehe

i got ya

Ward Willing

Ford has a tendency to overwork himself some nights. You’ve been horny bored all night and he’s been down in his lab, so you do the only thing you can think of to get his attention.

Stanford Pines x reader

TAGS: 18+!! MDNI, smut, blowjobs, gender-neutral reader

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

Ford Pines is probably one of the most hardest working men you know.

He’s always cooped up in that damn lab of his, day or night, and it’s never really bothered you up until recently. He’d always come to bed a decent time—and if he was feeling up to it, he’d take care of you. Lately, he’s been working late into the night, and sometimes you didn’t have the energy to wait up for him.

Tonight, however, you need him. But he’s still working.

You toss and turn in the bed, slipping your hand down between your thighs to try and get yourself off, but it doesn’t work. You want him, right here, right now.

You groan into your pillow, looking up at the door with an idea a minute later. You smirk to yourself, crawling out of bed and hurry to the vending machine, punching in the code.

Ford doesn’t notice that you’re standing at the doorway, completely engrossed in writing. He started a new journal after the summer was over and he’s determined to fill it with all kinds of fascinating research. Usually, you’d be curious, but right now all you can see is him, those fingers, that wonderful thing between his thighs…

His hair is messy, glasses slipping down the slope of his nose, and his fingers impatiently tap at the table. His pen is stuck between his lips, lightly chewing on the end of it. (You don’t know how many pens he’s ruined since you’ve met him, but you know it’s a lot).

You walk up behind him, hands reaching out to rest in his shoulders. He jumps slightly, but slouches into your touch when he hears your voice. “Stressed, baby?”

He moans lazily in response but continues to write. You dig your thumbs into his shoulder blades, applying a small amount of pressure, just enough to see him falter a little, but his attention is still strictly on his task.

You roll your eyes, stepping around to the side of him. “Are you coming to bed soon?” You note the amount of coffee cups pushed out of his way. He had a weird thing about reusing cups, which resulted in his desktop having multiple ones scattered about at all times.

Ford gives you a nod but you know he’s running on autopilot right now.

Your gaze falls to his lap, then to the space under the desk, a mischievous smile slowly spreading across your face.

Dropping down to your knees, you quickly crawl underneath his desk, settling between his thighs. You push them open a little so you can be a bit more comfortable, your hands coming up to rub him.

“W-What are you doing?” Ford breathes, rolling back in the chair. His eyes are wide and his face is flushed.

You flash him your teeth, your fingers deftly playing with the zipper of his jeans. “Go back to writing, Ford,” you whisper.

“What? No. You know I can’t focus when you’re touching me like that.”

The bulge in his jeans is already becoming more apparent by the second, your stomaching fluttering in anticipation. While you’re able, you unbutton his jeans, dragging them down his hips with a little help from him and letting them pool around his ankles, his underwear following suit.

Your mouth waters at the sight of him. He’s not entirely big length wise, but he’s thick, which makes up for the lack of a few inches. The tip is a shade of pink that matches his lips perfectly, and you lean forward to press a delicate kiss to it. He shutters from above.

“I don’t care. Go back to your work.”

He gives you a curious look, but does as you say. You hear him click his pen a couple times, the soft sound of ink meeting paper, and you giggle softly.

You poke your tongue out again, licking a long stride from base to tip. His thighs tense at the friction, but settle again. Your mouth wraps tenderly around the pink skin, the salty taste of precum exploding over your tongue. You moan quietly, the vibrations causing him to drop his pen for a quick second.

His breathing becomes audible, the sound of a soft whimper reaching your ears. You grin around his cock and sink lower, taking more and more until your nose is pressing against his navel. You hold your position there for a moment, popping off with a small gasp.

From above, Ford hasn’t been able to write more than three words.

You grin, wrapping your hand around the base as your mouth wraps around him again. You bob your head slowly, running your tongue against the underside of his cock in ways you know drive him crazy.

His leg twitches, hand reaching below the desk to burry it in your hair. He plays with the strands, pushing your head down slightly, silently begging for more. You can’t help but keen in response to his touch, obliging the request.

You flatten your tongue against the frenulum, curling it just enough to draw another whimper from the man above. Your ego blooms, prideful as you continue your ministrations.

Ford groans. “Doll, I-I can’t—” he cuts off with a moan when you suckle at the tip.

You lean back a little, gathering all the spit in your mouth and slowly letting it fall out of your mouth over Ford’s cock, the substance rolling over the tip and down his length. Your hand pumps him once, twice, a third time before you swallow him to the back of your throat.

He rolls his hips upward, causing you to gag at how deep he is. His fingers tangle in your hair, grabbing at your head and pulling up and down.

“I’m—fuck, dollface,” he groans.

You hear the sound of his pen falling, his journal snapping shut, before he leans back in his chair, eyeing you from your position. His eyes are glossy, glasses crookedly hanging on his face, and his cheeks a beautiful shade of cherry. He always looks so fucking sexy when he’s needy for you.

“I need more, baby. Please give me more.”

You nod weakly, your jaw slack as you bob your head. Spit dribbles down your chin, another moan muffled by the intrusion in your mouth.

It’s quite obscene, really. But you enjoy it nonetheless.

His quiet whimpers turn into rough moans, waves of iron-hot pleasure dripping down your spine as you work your mouth over the sensitive flesh, your own sounds a little garbled by the sheer amout of spit building under your tongue.

You flick the tip of the flesh, your teeth grazing softly against the underside, adoring the way Ford shivers beneath you. It’s vulgar; you enjoy it a bit too much, your own arousal causing you to lose yourself in the blissfulness of it all.

You pop off with a throaty moan, a string of spit connecting your bottom lip to the tip of his cock. You meet his hungry gaze for a moment, smiling sweetly at him.

“I want you to start coming to bed at a decent time. Or I’ll be down here every night to interrupt your work,” you say, lazily stroking his cock.

He huffs a laugh. “Don’t tempt me with a good time, doll.”

You roll your eyes at him, slipping him back into your mouth. This time you pick up your pace, jerking him off in tandem of your tongue rolling all over. He preens at the friction, his head lolling back on his chair, mouth parted to allow a plethora of whimpers and moans to escape the back of his throat.

His chest heaves, all six of his fingers grabbing at your hair. “Fuck, fuck. I’m gonna cum, doll. Please don’t stop.”

At his confession, you go harder, slurping and sucking, his grip teetering on the edge of blatantly painful. He catches your eyes again, the sight alone making him explode in your mouth, whimpering softly.

The taste of his cum is salty yet sweet and you swallow it all, a generous smile on your face as you pop your lips off the sensitive tip. He shutters, moving his hand from his hair to the side of your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek.

“That was amazing, baby. Your mouth never ceases to impress me.”

You blush. “Thank you…”

You slide out from underneath the desk, the man fixing his pants before standing up as well. In a quick motion, he has you pinned against the edge of the wood, his mouth on yours, devouring you whole. You whimper into his mouth.

“Now,” he nips at your bottom lip, “your turn.”

~

hope you enjoyed, ty for reading!!

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

I'm really thinking about that one Ghost post you wrote about him basically making himself at home at the reader's place when she found him near dead in the woods and it still is scratching my brain all right 😭 him devoting his life to her and the fact her husband is there completely upset about this all is the perfect drama.

the thing i love most about this is that i never mentioned ghost by name in that post <3 not once <3 but you're right. it is so, so ghost-coded. ghoded, if you will.

you're the hands in which he rests, a weapon; submissive in the way (as was once said) a sheep-guarding hound is submissive to the livestock it protects. 

so mismatched is his demeanor with yours--harsh and scarred--and that it frightens the townspeople around you. and your guards.

when you do get hurt, they jump at the chance to accuse Ghost of hurting you. no matter how you insist you're fine and demand the townsfolk see reason--you witnessed the attack, for god's sake! not to mention your wound is shallow and looks much worse than it is. but the guards lock him up in the small dungeon under your family's estate.

at your direction, Simon doesn't fight his captors. you both know, for all his strength, he'll be killed if the guards see their chance to take his life. they've never trusted him.

and so he's hauled off, chained up like a dog, lying in wait for his sheep. 

when you return to see him, having pushed through those who insisted you stay away, that he's dangerous, that he hurt you--only then does Simon strain against those chains. he wants to be at your side. he's driven half out of his mind with worry that the assassin who hurt you might come back and finish the job without him there to protect you. 

he'd pull the chain bolts clean out of the rotting brick to get back to you if not for the guarantee you'd be kept from him if he did. although it's not by your choice. 

he's even willing to confess to crimes he never committed, would never commit, if it meant being in your debt, imprisoned in your home, back by your side.

you stay with him as long as you can. his arms are locked behind him and he rests on his knees, more animal than man, as he presses his face against your waist. his desperation abates once you take his face in your hands to comfort him. he's lightheaded.

you assure him you'll be back, that you'll figure this out and get him home and out of those chains soon. he strains against the chains again as you pull away.

it's not until there's a second attempt on your life that he's vindicated.

the only story anyone knows is that when you screamed, by the time your guards made it up to your bedchamber, the blood from your attacker's corpse was already soaking into your rug. one of them tried and failed to coax the bloody dagger out of your shaking hands. your palms were clean. 

you tell the guards this was the man who attacked you before. you tell them to bury him and not speak of this again; to leave your chamber for you to clean.

once they're gone, Simon emerges from the shadows, hands bloody, to disentangle your hands (white knuckled) from the dagger, to usher you into the wash basin. you see the iron cuffs on his wrists, chains snapped off, and say nothing.

nobody is ever quite sure who released him. just as nobody is sure who the assassin worked for.

strangely, your husband seems to avoid you after that.

;)

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