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zombholic · 1 year ago

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MILF ABBY WITH READER WHO HATES KIDS HC — abby anderson

description — milf!abby, reader who isnt that great with kids, age gap, reader is around mid twenties and abby is late thirties going on forty, smut, mdi !!,

authors note — literally all my creds and inspo goes to @elliespassagerprincess i literally love their milf abby series pls go read it !!

— You and your friends know that you do not have a single motherly instinct in your bones, you and kids do not mix well together.

— This one time you were just strolling while shopping and a toddler came up to say hi to you and you just stared at it wondering what to do.

— If there’s a child screaming at the top of their little lungs you literally give it a death glare.

— You also call children “it” and make everyone laugh every time you talk about a kid.

— But if it wasn’t for Abby’s six-year-old daughter Melanie who came up to you one day at a your local grocery store crying like snot bubbling at her nose and she looked sticky trying to hold your hand you wouldn’t have met your future milf wife.

“Oh, uh hi— why are you crying?” You let the little child grab your pointer finger as you tried to hard to fight your inner demons from the stickiness of her little hand.

“I— I can’t find my mommy.” She used her other hand to wipe the snot off her face, you could feel every nerve in your body cringe. You felt bad for the thing but jesus why are kids so fucking sticky.

You and the kid sat on one of the benches inside the store, you bought her some candy to make it stop crying and it worked. You did inform an employee that there was a lost kid, they spoke on the intercom after telling you that if the parent isn’t here in a certain amount of time they would call law enforcement.

“So, what’s your name?” You pinched your eyebrows together looking at the small being next to you devouring the ring pop like her life depended on it.

“Melanie but all my friends call me Melly.” She gave you a toothy smile well … she was missing majority of her teeth so half toothy smile?

“That’s … nice? You have friends?” She shook her head, her two little braids looked like she got into a street fight.

“Yeah, a lot like a lot of friends, what’s your na—“ She was cut off by a woman’s voice calling out for her.

“Melanie!” Both of your eyes shot up at the… holy fucking fuck she was breath taking.

— You found out that her name is Abby and she has a little escape artist for a child, she hugged you tightly with those giant arms thanking you for keeping her baby safe.

— Abby was truly taken back by how beautiful you are, she was quick to tell you she’ll repay you and managed to get your number while doing so.

— You guys ended up bonding really fast, even though you two were almost complete opposites she was so fascinated by you.

— She invited you over to dinner at her house and fuck was she loaded, not like you were in it for the money but damn must be nice.

— She genuinely found it so amusing how you would interact with Melanie, treating her like a little adult. You weren’t the type to use baby words towards kids you just spoke to them.

— Melanie really resembled Abby to the T, she had her mom’s blue eyes, freckles, the cutest nose but she had blonder hair, you just assumed it was from the dad.

— After months of basically hanging out with them you guys felt so inseparable, you still would give concerning expressions whenever Melanie would do something weird.

— Abby was falling in love you, whenever all three of you would watch a movie that Melanie always picked out and yes you did argue with a six year old about picking movies she would just have the urge to grab your face and kiss you.

— For halloween you bought Melanie an inflatable dinosaur costume with a pink tutu, you literally were crying from how silly she looked holding Abby’s hand.

— Abby was so reluctant to make the first move, scared that she was too old for you but little did she know how much it turned you on that she was older.

— You decided to ask Abby out on a date, you called her up while you were at home, heart beating out of your chest when she said yes.

— The date was at the arcade, cheesy but Abby always won you prizes every time you guys went with Melly. She beat at you literally every single game and being competitive you just glared at her.

— Melanie was at a sleepover at her friend’s home so you and Abby had the place to yourselves, after the date you guys were chilling in her kitchen Abby finally had the courage to kiss you.

“Can I please kiss you?” She looked at you with those pleading eyes, a slight whine to her words.

NSFW mdi NSFW mdi NSFW

— She pinned your back against the counter, her hand cupping the side of your face, the kiss felt so warm but soon became greedy.

— She carried you to her room, your legs wrapped around her waist, arms around her neck as you drove her fucking crazy kissing on her neck like that.

— Abby has a Daddy kink, she had her strap settled deep in your drooling cunt, legs on her shoulder, thrusting so fucking deliciously making you claw at her arms.

“Mmmgh— oh fuck Abby..” Your eyes were rolled to the back of your head, knuckles white from the grip you had on her arms.

“Daddy, call me fucking Abby again and I wont let you cum.” She slapped your face, grabbing it with her hands squeezing your cheeks together.

God this wasn’t the sweet, motherly Abby you knew but some sex god who would fuck you so stupid it left you an incoherent mess.

— She had crazy stamina, had you in every position, face down with your ass up, riding her cock, your back pressed against her front as she spread your legs open drilling your bruised and aching pussy.

— She was so mean, she mocked your moans, bit your skin, slapped your tearful face every time you stopped looking at her. You couldn’t get enough of this side of her.

— She over stimulated you so much you were sobbing, trembling every time she would touch you, your legs shook violently.

Abby had her arms wrapped securely around your thighs, spreading them open so wide. Her tongue lapping you up, sucking on your puffing clit, sliding her tongue inside your sore cunt.

“Daddy please! Too much, s’too much, too much” You squealed, crying out trying to push her head off of you.

— After long hours of her using you, she was so quick to turn her motherly instincts back on. Kissing your face so sweetly, her eyes filled with worry that she pushed you over the edge.

— You reassured her that it was the best fucking sex you’ve ever had. She started a bath for you, sitting right behind you as she massaged your aching body, running her fingers over the love bites she left scattered on your body.

— She held you so tightly as you both had fallen asleep on her amazing bed.

#lesbian #lgbtq #wlw #abby anderson #the last of us #the last of us ii #tlou #tlou2 #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson fic #abby anderson imagine #abby anderson tlou2 #abby x reader smut #abby anderson headcanons #abby anderson x female reader #milf!abby #abby anderson smut

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dejwrld · 18 days ago

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⤷‧₊˚ hiromi punishes his flirty sub into submission.

warning readers discretion is advised ⸻ flashing edit, japanese rope bondage kink, dom/sub relationship, shibari rope bondage, jealous!hiromi, flirty reader, assertive dom!hiromi, written with black reader in mind, orgasm denial, orgasm control, mentions of rope burns/markings, slight age gap (hiromi in his 30's while reader is in early/mid 20's), oral (m.receiving), reader is not a hoe but the way hiromi describe her you would think sis is (he just jealous), a little praise kink, a little degradation kink, cum swallowing, hiromi is a well-established lawyer, reader is in law school & daughter of a successful judge, mentions of other jjk characters (nanami kento, toji fushiguro, atsuya kusakabe), mentions of aftercare, flashback in italics, usage of toys | wc: 3.8k, mdni

sticky note from deja — this is a repost, but same hiromi & reader from this fic. don't really consume jjk fics like that anymore but do still enjoy writing about hiromi, choso, nanami, & toji.

DURING THE TWELFTH CENTURY, JAPANESE PRISONERS WERE PUNISHED WITH SEVERE TORTURE, COMMONLY IN THE FORM OF HOJOJUTSU TIES. The traditional martial art was used by Samurai to restrain their victims, causing agonizing pain, and discomfort. However, Hiromi was sure those same Samurai would be turning in their graves if they found out the same torture method was now used in the bedroom of many dom and sub relationships. Shibari was now a popular form of bondage play that gave many doms the power of control and many subs the satisfaction of relinquishing that control.

And Hiromi Higuruma was now introducing this form of bondage to his rebellious sub.

Hiromi's form of dominance was unique. Whereas others were aggressive and authoritarian, he was a perfect balance of assertiveness and compassion. However, his sub had a tendency of taking his kindness for granted, one too many times. Some days, she had him on the verge of voiding their contract entirely, but on others, he was so blind by his lust—agitated that his sexual desires could cloud his judgment to such an extent.

As he ends a Zoom call with his colleagues, he left his office, finally pushing the thought of work out of his mind. His house slippers drag along the wooden floors as he makes his way to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, slipping a straw in when he opens it. After taking a sip he saunters through his penthouse toward his bedroom, smiling as he’s greeted by the wonderful sight of his sub completely bare on his king-size bed. Ropes decorate her pretty body, the thick strands wrapped tightly, rendering her helpless and immobile. It took him weeks to master the beauty of shibari and being able to successfully bind his sub in ropes was a stunning sight, to say the least.

He nibbles on the straw peeking from his bottle as he indulges in the artistic sight of the ropes against her smooth skin. A blindfold leaves her blind, his approaching footsteps causing her head to raise from the pillow beneath her head. Hiromi takes a long sip of the water before stepping a bit closer to the bed. It was good to know that she hadn’t fallen asleep during his time in a quick Zoom call, but then again he did prop a vibrating wand set to the lowest speed against her clit before he left, pleased as her needy whimpers echoed through the penthouse. This was just the start of her punishment for her lousy behavior.

The industry of law from police officers, paralegals, and judges to lawyers—was a small world in Japan. If word of your failure to win a case you were defending can travel fast enough to be talked about during the six o��clock evening news, then obviously the childish gossip of his sub Y/N flirting with a fucking councilman got to him before he finished his opening arguments for a case. Usually, Hiromi would brush it under the rug. She still was young, dumb, and eager to get a taste of any cock that could buy her something she could easily get from daddy. But he’d had it with her behavior.

The sandy brown rope tied in the most beautiful knots traps her legs in such a way that she couldn’t squirm away from Hiromi or the vibrator’s touch. Another rope wraps around her upper body, binding her arms behind her back. Hiromi’s a little worried about that one, as she was lying on her back. But it was a magnificent scene, especially with the way the thick rope makes her boobs look perkier.

Hiromi drags the lounging chair in the corner of his master bedroom towards the edge of the bed. He plops down on the seat and leans over to remove the blindfold, placing the silken covering on the nightstand next to his bed. When he makes eye contact with her tear-filled eyes he is void of pity. His heart doesn’t soften like it usually does Instead, he just stares at her with so much hunger that one would think he was some sex addict. Hiromi leans forward to place the straw of his bottle between her lips, urging her to drink. He can hear her faint swallows while he thumbs away her tears, taking note of the dried-up tear streaks that stain her heated cheeks.

“Did you cum?” Hiromi asks, reclining into his seat. He brings one leg over the other as he stares at her with those deadpan eyes of his.

Y/N watches as he places the water bottle on the nightstand next to the blindfold. She did cum; she came more than once, actually. However, admitting that wouldn’t satisfy Hiromi. Sure, he likes knowing that she orgasmed when the two engaged in sexual activities. But he relishes the thought of being the one to bring Y/N’s body to that point, on his command.

Hiromi gets the answer to his question when the young lady breaks eye contact. He kisses his teeth as he watches her stare at the ceiling, her reflection staring right back in the mirror looming above. He stands to grab the vibrating wand between her opened legs, smirking as he finds her slick coating the toy. He toys with the vibration settings as he returns to his seat, his expression reverting to one of stoicism.

“Just please touch me Hiromi, I want to feel you.” Y/N cries, finally breaking her stubborn silence.

“No,” Hiromi states impassively. “Do you even know why you’re in this predicament in the first place?” His large hand takes a hold of her face, forcing her to look at him.

“Nope,” It annoys him that she’s bratty enough to articulate an answer with such pride.

How can one crave and beg for his touch but still be defiant enough to answer his question like that?

“Hmm, interesting,” are the only words that come out of Hiromi’s mouth before changing the setting of the toy to medium speed. He places the vibrating wand back between her thighs, firm as he pressed it against her clit. “And be sure to not cum without my permission this time.”

He watches her squirm against the confines of the ropes, the knots not budging one bit against her struggle. Instead, they only grow tighter around her limbs.

“Y/N, do you remember rule 14 in our contract? It’s one rule that I hold so high, especially considering who we are.”

Y/N can’t concentrate on Hiromi’s question due to the intense feeling that’s burning between her thighs. She feels like she’s on trial, and with each question that leaves Hiromi’s mouth, he is deciding her fate for tonight. Will she be found innocent or guilty? The young law student only moans out as she tries to remember the answer to his question, simply because she knows her dom so well. If she obeyed, he always rewarded her.

As a law student, it was important for Y/N to eye every document presented to her in this folder. Hiromi expected her to read over the contract multiple times simply because he would adore a challenge if she caught a mistake he made or something. He specifically invited her to dinner to look over the contract, and the woman was finally getting to the end of it.

“I don’t really understand this rule,” Y/N spoke out.

“Which one?” Hiromi inquired from across the table. I did my best to make them as clear as possible.”

“Rule 14.”

“What does it say? I expect you to be more vocal if we’re going to make this work. Say the rule loud and clear and tell me why you don’t understand it.” Hiromi said before cutting into his steak to continue eating.

Y/N watched as he ate his luxury dinner. When he had a seminar at her university, she was so curious to know who Hiromi Higuruma was that she forgot the rumors were true. He was as assertive outside the courthouse as much as he was inside of it.

Y/N cleared her throat before speaking, “The sub is not allowed to engage in other romantic relationships nor romantic gestures with other associates in the law industry. This includes police officers, lawyers, paralegals, judges, and political figures.”

“Okay, and why don’t you understand it?” Hiromi grabbed his glass of wine to take a sip from it.

“It’s bullshit, and it contradicts your second rule of saying that we’re not romantically involved with each other—just merely helping each other with our sexual fantasies. If we’re not romantically involved, why am I forbidden to mingle with other people?” Y/N’s arms crossed over her chest, awaiting a response.

“You’re allowed to mingle with other people, knock yourself out. Just not someone that’s in the same industry as us. It may not seem like our world isn’t small, but it is. I don’t want this to get messier than engaging in this form of a relationship already is.”

“Messy? How would it get messy?” Y/N asked.

Hiromi met her gaze. Usually, people broke eye contact with him because he was the most intimidating lawyer in the room. But she held her head high, this one, and never broke eye contact. It was almost as if she were challenging him.

“Former subs get attached to the point where they blabber to their little law friends or attempt to use my colleagues to make me jealous. Both of those examples are messy.” Hiromi answered.

Y/N’s lips parted to speak, but nothing came out. She just picked up the pen and signed the contract at the end. Hiromi watched as she signed it, even going so far as to leave her red lipstick print on the first page of the contract. Oh, this was going to be fun.

Y/N finally realizes why she was stuck in the intricate shibari rope bondage with a vibrator buzzing against her clit. She flirted with that councilman, Toji Fushiguro. If she thinks hard enough, she can even remember him grabbing a handful of her ass with how flirtatious she was. But in her defense, she’d had a few too many strawberry mojitos.

“Does the name Toji Fushiguro ring a bell to you?” Hiromi moves his chair closer to grasp the wand.

A sudden gasp escapes Y/N’s mouth as she writhes on the plush bed. Hiromi grips the wand and moves it around her wet folds teasingly, placing it on her clit in a slow circular motion. He knew Y/N so well that if her hands weren't tied behind her back, she would desperately inch away from the pleasurable action so she wouldn’t cum. Whines of desperation slip past her lips as she attempts to arch her back off the bed. Just as Hiromi could see her toes curl, he removed the vibrator from her clit. He deviously clicks his tongue while dragging his slender fingers down her bare body, fingertips grazing the ropes that imprinted her smooth skin.

“Since you want to act like a brat, brats have to earn the privilege to fuckin’ cum.”

His words come out as a sweet whisper, but Y/N can hear the threatening undertone clear as day. Her legs quiver beneath the ropes, swallowing the remnants of her orgasm away. The action ignited a heat across her body so hot, that she felt as if she were running a fever.

“I went out with the guys the other night. You know, Kento, Kusakabe, and your favorite, Toji.” Hiromi tosses the wand aside, tired of the mediocre toy. “You know, like all guy talk…someone is bound to brag about the women they’re trying to fuck.”

Hiromi stands from the chair he was sitting in, Y/N watching closely as he pushes it back to its rightful place in the corner. She can hear his footsteps against the wooden floors but is too lazy to follow his movements. The weight of helplessness ensnares her as she listens to Hiromi’s words. Through her blurry gaze, she anxiously watches Hiromi roll up the sleeves of his white button-down to his elbows. He folds the cotton with such precision, that one would have thought he was returning it to whatever store he bought it from. The soft thump of his footsteps is soon replaced by the clink of his belt being undone, the sound, amplifying the tension already filling the room. Y/N might not be able to tell what the man is up to, but she’s certain he’s seething with jealousy after what she did, and that only compelled him to punish her.

“Toji begins talking about how he’s so close to fucking this judge's daughter. I shrug it off as just Toji being Toji: a freshly divorced horn dog that likes sticking his dick in any woman wearing a short skirt. But then he mentions your name,” Hiromi pauses as he returns to Y/N’s side.

His nicely tailored bottoms hang loose around his waist, the band of his Calvin Klein briefs now visible. His shirt is unbuttoned, revealing his chiseled chest and the beginnings of a mouth-watering happy trail.

“Now answer me this. Why would Toji Fushiguro know your name?” Hiromi’s arms cross over his chest, his muscles bulging slightly in the shirt he’s still wearing. “And if you answer with, ‘I don’t know’—expect to be punished.”

With lust in her eyes and desperation ravaging her body, Y/N nibbles her bottom lip as if it is a chew toy. She’s grateful that he didn’t put the familiar cotton candy-colored ball gag in her mouth before her punishment—she wouldn’t be able to do as much shit-talking if he did. But one thing Hiromi knows about Y/N is that she enjoys testing his patience. It’s like a person filling a glass to its brim and continuing to add small droplets until it overflows.

And with an innocent doe-eyed expression, Y/N looks up at Hiromi and says, “I don’t know.”

Hiromi's eyes roll at the woman on his bed, stepping forward to grasp at one of the ropes causing Y/N to gasp. As he tugs her to the edge of the bed his cock twitches in anticipation at thought of his oncoming punishment, the images of just what he had planned rushing to the forefront of his mind. When one has a bratty sub with a mouth as smart as theirs and an attitude to match, They’ve got to use it.

The majority of her body lies comfortably on the king-sized bed, the same one she’s spent many nights sleeping in after an evening of wanton fun. But it’s her head that’s hanging off the bed, gulping the knot that formed in her throat as she stares up at her dom. She’s endured many punishments before. Spankings with a leather paddle that left marks on her plush asscheeks, to having her orgasm denied just when she was about to cum. The young woman should’ve been used to the punishments by now, but when she thought she had the upper hand—Hiromi was always there to remind her who was in control.

It didn’t take long before Hiromi’s cock found comfort in Y/N’s mouth. A feeling she hasn’t experienced in a while considering his schedule has been rather hectic thanks to a certain case. If her mouth wasn’t already occupied she would’ve happily voiced just how much she missed the feeling of his cock on her tongue. Knowing Hiromi, he probably wouldn’t even take the young woman seriously at all.

So caught up in her thoughts, Y/N fails to notice the rough thrust of Hiromi’s hips, her resulting violent gag birthing a smirk on the man’s face as he withdraws his cock completely from her mouth. His hand envelops his spit-covered length, letting the tip brush against Y/N’s lips before inevitably forcing his cock back down Y/N’s throat —this time he wouldn’t stop. She feels the full force of his frustrations in each harsh thrust, her breath slowly being ripped from her lungs, bit by bit. Y/N hopelessly squirms on the mattress, her movements obstructed each time by the rope digging into her soft skin.

Hiromi pulls his length out of Y/N’s mouth, giving her a chance to breathe. She looks absolutely obscene like this, her tear-stained cheeks inciting lust in the pit of his stomach, but he forces that lust away because it would only make him pity. Before he knew it, he’d begin to coddle her through her punishment, and Hiromi couldn’t have that. He lets his palm glide up and down his shaft before repeating his previous action, stuffing Y/N’s mouth to the point that she was seeing stars. He wasn’t sure if his behavior was due to jealousy or a broken rule, but he did know that afterward, this lesson would be ingrained in her mind, that next time you’d think twice about disobeying him.

The pornographic sound of Y/N’s throat is the only thing heard throughout Hiromi’s master bedroom. She can feel her pussy moistening at the intoxicating mixture of degradation and praise he was feeding her. Y/N always knew what type of vulgar phrase would tumble from Hiromi’s lips, even if they were quite predictable, the sultry words mixed with his brash voice still makes the woman feel like there is a waterfall pooling in between her thighs.

“You look much better this way, Y/N. Don’t you agree?”

“Good girl, you’re sucking me off so well.”

Y/N knows Hiromi well. So well, in fact, the woman knows he’s going to cum just by the look on his face, his increasingly slow and sloppy strokes confirming his approaching climax When Hiromi was engrossed in his chase for ecstasy, he’d lose all sense of control, the concept of mercy unknown—no matter if he had her knees pressed against her chest or fucked her throat senseless until it burned.

It isn’t long before Y/N feels thick ropes of cum shooting down her throat, and there was a lot of it. Hiromi doesn’t stop until every droplet ejected from his plump pink tip paints the back of Y/N’s throat. His cheeks are as red as a freshly grown tomato, whines high pitched and strained. Although Y/N’s eyes are clouded with tears t, she’s still able to catch a glimpse of Hiromi’s sigh of relief.

When the panting mess of a lawyer finally removes his cock from Y/N’s mouth, a thin string of saliva hangs from the tip. His muscular chest glistens with a layer of sweat as he leans on the nightstand next to his bed to keep his balance. He tears his soiled dress shirt off, letting it fall to the ground, eyes darkening as he glances down at Y/N’s pitiful form with a frown. She yelps when he grabs a hold of her tear-stained cheeks, his grip so hard that it forces her lips to pucker, giving him the perfect view of her cum-filled mouth.

“Swallow it,” Hiromi commands stoically.

Y/N complies immediately. It wasn’t like she could protest anyway. Unprompted, she then opens her mouth and stuck out her tongue, verifying that she did exactly as she was told, like the obedient sub she was.

“Huh, so you can listen." Hiromi’s lips curl into a smirk before placing a soft kiss on her forehead. “Good girl.” He praises, thumb tracing her bottom lip tenderly.

As Hiromi helps Y/N back on the bed, he begins preparing for the aftermath of their session. It was different every night, most of which were filled with Y/N’s giggles while she recalled her favorite parts of the evening. Tonight his room was quiet as ever in his search for the scissors to free Y/N from the ropes still binding her limbs. Perhaps the lawyer managed to get his message across. Or maybe Y/N was collecting her thoughts—after all, this was technically a new form of punishment for her, so it was only natural.

Y/N feels like she’s still gasping for air even though Hiromi’s cock no longer occupied it, her body aching even as the dom cut through her ropy prison. The imprints of the tethers that litter her soft skin are revealed with each snip, Hiromi’s fingers grazing them gently to alleviate the burn that no doubt lingered beneath each angry mark. Finally free from her ties, the first thing the young law student does was stretch out her limbs, a tired yawn following.

“Next time,” she sighs, rolling onto her stomach. “You should get pink ropes. They’d look so much cuter on me,” Y/N throws Hiromi a playfully childish pout that earns her an eye roll from the nonchalant man.

“Even after all that, you’ve still got a smart mouth,” Hiromi grumbles as he runs his fingers through his hair. “Typical.”

“You should be used to it by now.,” Y/N winks. “I didn’t expect you would go this far over Toji Fushiguro, though.” She admits, resting her head on her arms.

“You broke a rule in the contract. You get punished for breaking rules, it’s not rocket science nor does it have anything to do with Toji Fushiguro.” Hiromi reminds her.

He retreats to the bathroom connected to his room to run Y/N a warm relaxing bath. He even throws in her favorite scented Epsom salts to help soothe her muscles. His tasks in the bathroom were brief; he wasn’t even in there that long—but he still notice Y/N’s lack of a response. He assumes that exhaustion finally overcame her body because there were only two things that could hinder the woman’s snarky temperament, and those were her beauty rest and her father’s black card. However, Hiromi takes aftercare very seriously within his dom and sub relationships. So if he has to disturb her sleep to get her cleaned up—then so be it. When the older lawyer steps back into his room, he is met with the sight of Y/N slipping on her neatly folded clothes, the same ones that lay previously in the corner of the room.

He watched her dress in confusion. She’s never left his place after a session. Hiromi grew so accustomed to his favorite sub comfortably sleeping in his bed after mindblowing sex that he even bought her a spare toothbrush.

“I’m starting to think you’re catching feelings beyond the contract.” She says out loud, sliding on the heels she came strutting into his place with. “And that will break the very last rule….” Y/N’s voice trails off as she closes the gap between them. The law student grasps at his shirt to tug him closer and pecks the corner of his lips. “Refrain from getting attached.”

#hiromi higuruma x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x black reader #anime smut #anime x reader #black reader #female reader #⊹˳⁺ ♡ 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒻𝒾𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

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astrolovecosmos · 9 months ago

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The 9th House and In-laws

The 9th House is associated with your in-laws. This house can describe your in-laws' personalities, some of the family dynamic, and your overall relationship with them. *Due to the 10th House's association with authority and parents' influence some may look at this House to reference in-laws as well.

Aries: Marrying into a highly competitive family, maybe a sports family, or maybe a military family. Passion, leadership, confidence, and self-focus may somehow be themes in the dynamics or personalities of in-laws. Aries is associated with separation and independence; this could indicate a more distant relationship to in-laws or even in a more literal sense with the in-laws being separated. Anger and arguments may be commonly caused by in-laws. In-laws could also be highly enthusiastic and encourage fun, assertion, risk, and being enterprising in your marriage or as a family unit.

Taurus: Marrying into a predictable, routine, unmoving or deeply rooted, maybe controlling family. In-laws may be dependable, huge foodies or materialistic, potentially may spoil their family, could be an artistic family, or a down-to-earth one. With Taurus's association with security this may mean they give their daughter/son in-law plenty of reassurance and stability OR they could see the new daughter/son as a threat as well. May be slow to form a relationship with. The in-laws will strive for peace and contentment in their family.

Gemini: Marrying into a family that highly values intellect and has high energy. Some in-laws could be flexible and others unstable. A highly communicative and social family. In-laws may be open-minded, easygoing, but potentially opinionated, may love debate or wild discussions, could seem detached as well. May judge their daughter/son in-law by their field of study, social standing, and how they hold themselves in conversations. Could have a lot to share and teach with their family. Some in-laws may be highly supportive and others two-faced, gossipers, and tricky.

Cancer: Marrying into a family that may have a great focus on family loyalty and tradition. In-laws could be very protective over their children and may not always be welcoming to spouses. Some could also be on the other end of the spectrum - highly understanding and kind to a son/daughter in-law. An in-law could be highly intuitive and frequently shares their wisdom. This family can have attachment issues. In-laws could be manipulative and possessive. This can also be a family one may easily be able to get close to, in-laws who embrace a spouse as one of their own. May be the type to show favoritism towards a daughter/son in-law.

Leo: Marrying into a proud family that focuses on honor, duty, and success. Can be warm, affectionate, and very generous in-laws. These in-laws may go out of their way to impress a spouse. But they can also be overbearing and arrogant behind their shinning gold. One in-law could stand out by playing the role of queen/king of the family. Can also be a lively, playful, and entertaining family. The married couple may feel as if they have to put on a performance when around the in-laws. Some may want to rebel. Some may fit in with the passionate and driven parent(s).

Virgo: Marrying into a hard-working, practical, intellectual, and potentially critical family. These in-laws may have high standards for their son/daughter in-law. May be very helpful and supportive in-laws who take on extra tasks, chores, and responsibilities for the couple. Could be rigid, potentially often complainers, and judgmental. These in-laws may try to contribute to the married couple's finances or health often in some way. May not be the best at sharing emotions and reassurance. In-laws appreciate a cooperative daughter/son in-law and may have a family dynamic that is all about striking a balance between teamwork, everyone contributing, and self-reliance.

Libra: Marrying into a family that has a very harmonious dynamic OR may seem like they do at first. There is pressure in the family one is marrying into to keep the peace. Maybe this family brushes issues under the rug, doesn't get too deep or passionate in their dynamics, or constantly pushes the importance of tact, manners, and grace. They could be kind, easygoing, and supportive in-laws but also potentially vain, shallow, and easily jealous. The individual with this placement may try hard to please their in-laws or the family they are marrying into. It is important for them to set healthy and realistic boundaries, and some may need to learn to stand up to their in-laws with their spouse. This can also indicate in-laws who have good judgment, admire their child's relationship, and help the couple with networking or even originally introduced the married couple to each other!

Scorpio: Marrying into an intense and passionate family. Potentially a highly competitive and combative family. This family may have many secrets, or many things might not be shared and discovered until long after the wedding and being part of the other family. Family loyalty may be important along with power and control dynamics. These in-laws could be overprotective, manipulative, and vindictive. But they could also be compassionate, motivating, intuitive, and filled with useful insight. Their protective nature could encompass their daughter/son in-law. But these in-laws may likely struggle with letting go of control and involvement. This placement can also indicate a deep, empowering, or transformative relationship with one's in-laws.

Sagittarius: Marrying into a gregarious, fun-loving, zealous, and active family. In-laws may give their adult child and their spouse a lot of space and freedom. Could also be unreliable, selfish, irresponsible, and dishonest in-laws. An in-law could also be boastful and dogmatic. They may not accept a son/daughter in-law unless they agree with their opinions or beliefs fully. In-laws could also be the type who refuse to acknowledge the marriage or relationship status, treating the son/daughter in-law always like a "stranger". Because Sagittarius is associated with luck, maybe a spouse has hit the jackpot and their in-laws could be very giving, open-minded, and friendly. In-laws may live far away or be part of a very different culture than the daughter/son in-law. Whether there is a good or bad relationship, the family dynamic is likely flexible, fast paced in some way, or maybe even exciting or wild.

Capricorn: Marrying into a strict, traditional, ambitious, practical, or potentially a well-known family. Reputation and work ethic may be important to the in-laws. These in-laws can also be reliable, patient, chill, and they watch out for their children, including the son/daughter in-law. These in-laws could be highly judgmental, negative, and rigid. Some may want to rebel against their in-laws or question their authority and judgment. Trust issues can be a big deal in the dynamic somehow. The in-laws could be workaholics or highly materialistic or even greedy and unexpectedly manipulative. Capricorn is associated with integrity, these in-laws may approach their married children with full trust and respect, at least at first. These in-laws could also help their son/daughter in-law with getting a job or career.

Aquarius: Marrying into an unconventional family or family dynamic. There are many ways the in-laws could be unique depending on your society. Maybe there are untraditional roles, large age differences, they could have a free-spirited lifestyle, are politicians, the list could go on. These in-laws could be separated, divorced, or not married at all. The in-laws could also be highly detached or estranged from the couple. These in-laws can also be conversationalist, highly value intellect, love a good debate, embrace quirks, and be open-minded or very friendly. There can also be a hypocritical, opinionated, or controlling nature. These in-laws could also be highly unpredictable and unreliable. In healthy and idealistic dynamics they can make a daughter/son in-law feel accepted, be a great teacher, and inspire the couple or individual.

Pisces: Marrying into a sensitive, emotional, maybe artistic, or maybe a touchy-feely family. This family and/or the in-laws may be easy to get along with at first, making a daughter/son in-law feel at home or at ease. But these in-laws can also be manipulative, elusive, and volatile. There can be an unstable and always changing feel to the family dynamics. An in-law or both parents may be highly intuitive and receptive to the married couple's relationship. A son/daughter in-law may conform to their in-laws beliefs and wishes or be highly sensitive to their wants OR the in-laws themselves may be quick to try to please or pacify a son/daughter in-law. Boundaries can easily be crossed in the dynamic. There can be a great opportunity for closeness, but this can come with plenty of pros and cons. Spiritual or religious beliefs may be a hot topic somehow. With Pisces strong association to healing, an in-law could become the mom this individual always wanted, or the daughter/son in-law could be the daughter/son the in-law always wanted. Or the individual may act as the family's therapist.

#zodiac #astrology #9th house #natal chart #in-laws #family #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces

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nocofamilyau · 1 month ago

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ik its not Noco related, but how are people like Duncan, Alejandro, Heather, Gwen and Courtney?

since you said Zeke died from the lava, does that mean Alejandro was also killed by the volcano :0

Heather probably got the one of the best hands out of being on Total Drama, with not only her winnings being given back to her as a result of Chris getting the shit sued out of him, but from all the brand endorsements and guest appearances she made shortly after. That eventually spawned into her own show 'The World According to Heather', a talk show of some kind where she mainly talks shit about other (usually famous) people, particularly with who she has on as a guest for that particular night. It had a pretty successful run worldwide, heard it was most popular all over Europe. She's living quite a luxurious life still, with a lavish house up in the hills, she's married to some rich CEO and they recently had a child who she spoils ROTTEN. 'The World According to Heather' still lives on as a podcast, and she has quite the social media following to match.

Gwen was still being dragged through the mud after World Tour ended, the whole 'Boyfriend Stealer' title not really rubbing off until a few years after the fact. She kept pretty low profile throughout her young adulthood as reality TV slowly began to fade out of people's minds, finishing that art history degree and now works as a curator for art galleries across the country, hoping to open back up to the public again as an emerging artist at some point. Somewhere along the line she (accidentally) reunited with Trent at a jazz bar, where they managed to sort things out, started dating again, and are now happily married with two young daughters (a boring, but sweet ending nonetheless).

Courtney claims to have powered past all the Total Drama bullshit after high school, believing it was all just a waste of time in the end (she's totally over that shit now... promise!). She put all that rage into graduating Law school with an honours degree, and is a pretty successful lawyer with quite an... interesting method of whipping her clients into enough shape to change the judge's minds on what they deserve, despite most of her clients doing things that are... somewhat questionable on if they deserve a lighter punishment or not...

Duncan's been having it rough as of late, Gwen broke up with him shortly after World Tour (it really wasn't worth it in the end, no matter what the producers told them) and never really stopped his life of crime. He was in jail for a few years for destroying some rich dude's property, probably committed arson too while we're at it, but he could not rule that place with the iron fist he had back in juvie, his time on Total Drama dampening his reputation. Tired of that, he fled the country, and hasn't been seen since. Rumour has it he's now residing somewhere in Mexico, probably to join a drug cartel or something like that...

also I've written about what happens to Alejandro here.

#noco family au #thanks for the ask!#where are they now #total drama #total drama heather #total drama gwen #total drama courtney #total drama duncan

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ihavethedreamies · 3 months ago

Text

Stray Kids Historical AU! Series Hub

ON INDEFINITE HIATUS

Please Read my Letter

Oh boy! After my poll, Stray Kids was decided as the subject of my next series! Below you will find the overviews for each story and I will be working on them next and uploading them as I finish. Hopefully it won't take more than a week to get them all up, so stay tuned!

I'll be going in age order, so Bang Chan first and I.N. last.

Let me know if you want to be on a taglist! I do those, just not had too many requests to do so.

(I also struggled to find a Historical-type outfit for Changbin that wasn't older so if anyone has something more recent, let me know. I really only check on Pinterest so...)

Only You - Bang Chan [NSFW]

King! Bang Chan x Noble! AFAB! Reader

Summary: You are a nobleman's daughter and your father is struggling to find you a husband. The king refuses to marry all of the women brought to him and will not take any concubines. You end up meeting each other. ~4.6k

Her Hero - Lee Know [NSFW]

Podocheong! Lee Know x Noble! AFAB! Reader

(The Podocheong were like the police of Joseon Era Korea)

Summary: When a political rival of your father kidnaps you for a ransom, your father calls on the Podocheong (Police) to rescue you. An extremely handsome Bujang (Lieutenant) rescues you, but you would be loathe to admit you need (and like) a hero. ~5k

Kept Secret - Changbin [WIP]

Wonsanghwa! Changbin x Princess! AFAB! Reader

(A Wonsanghwa was essentially the guy who trained the Hwarang)

Summary: You are the youngest princess, and because of that you get the most freedom. The only thing your father refuses is to let you learn to fight. So, you get rid of the middleman and go straight to the Wonsanghwa.

Love is Free - Hyunjin [WIP]

Prince! Hyunjin x Merchan! AFAB! Reader

Summary: You run a store for your father that sells all kinds of clothing and accessories. A nobleman comes by nearly every other day and will buy anything you recommend. You figured at first he was there to buy gifts for his girl, but turns out, he doesn't have on. Yet.

Beside Me - Han [WIP]

Noble! Han x Princess! AFAB! Reader

Summary: You often go to spend the day with your best friend at her husband's family's estate, using it as an excuse to leave the palace. Your friend's younger-brother-in-law normally keeps to himself, but you heard he's actually really fun. You're determined to bring him out of his shell.

Getting Closer - Felix [WIP]

Noble! Felix x Handmaiden! AFAB! Reader

Summary: You had been training ever since you were a little girl to grow up and serve the crown prince and later the king. Because of that, you grew up with the prince as well. Though, the one that always had caught your eye, was the prince's best friend.

Favorite Place - Seungmin [WIP]

Noble! Seungmin x Princess! AFAB! Reader

Summary: You are a habitual escape artist, sneaking away from the palace as often as you could to actual live a fun life. Your best friend of nearly twenty years is always on the other side of the wall to catch you. Every so often though, he goes into the palace to see you instead.

Keep You Safe - I.N. [WIP]

Personal Guard! I.N. x Noble! AFAB! Reader

Summary: Your father, because of his political position, he hired a private guard to keep you safe. He was always disguised as either a servant or a suitor. You have yet to see him actually need to protect you, and you were honestly fairly curious how well he'd do.

Master-Master List

Stray Kids Master List

Taglist: @huldrelokken, @estella-novella, @astrobebba, @kayleefriedchicken, @minghaosimp, @cassandramrn, @qwonyoung23

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woso-dreamzzz · 6 months ago

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The Teens

Teenage Dirtbag

Dirtbag -> From Teenage Dirtbag and Teenage Dirtbag II -> Norwegian -> Ingrid's little sister -> Vincent Van Gogh the cat 🐈 -> Artist

Head in the Clouds

Mcdreamy -> From Head in the Clouds and Head in the Clouds II -> English/Spanish -> Fries the ferret and Ham Sammy the Hamster 🐹 -> Former Chelsea Academy Player -> Barcelona Professional Player -> Striker -> ❤️ Sniper

Proud

Sötnos ->From Proud, Proud II, Proud III and Proud IV -> Swedish -> Asexual -> Aromantic -> Magda and Pernille's daughter -> Former Linköping Academy Player -> Former Arsenal Professional Player -> Bayern Munich Professional Player -> Sweden National Team Player -> Centre Forward

New Girlfriend

Pumpkin -> From New Girlfriend and New Girlfriend II -> English -> Lucy's daughter -> Lara Croft, Princess Zelda, Clementine and Ezio Auditore the mice 🐁 -> Future Game Developer

Wiped Out

Klumpig -> From Wiped Out -> Swedish -> Frido's cousin -> Brick the Guinea Pig 🐹 -> Barcelona Professional Player -> Sweden National Team Player -> Left Winger

Sisters

Hermana -> From Sisters -> Spanish -> Irene's Sister-in-Law -> Barcelona Professional Player -> Centreback

Leaving

Menor -> From Leaving and Leaving II -> Spanish -> Alexia's little sister -> Tennis Player

Icy

Tontos -> From Icy -> Norwegian -> Toast the bearded dragon 🦎 -> Former Brann Professional Player -> Barcelona Professional Player -> Norwegian National Team Player -> Right Winger -> The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived by Taylor Swift

Nagging

Mignon -> From Nagging and Nagging II -> French -> Former Olympique Lyonnais Academy Player -> Barcelona Professional Player -> French National Team Player -> Attacking Midfielder

Foster

Chipmunk -> From Foster -> English -> Beth and Viv's foster daughter

Different

Clover -> From Different -> Irish -> Katie's daughter -> Future Wildlife Photographer -> Dyspraxia

Prodigy

Sniper -> From Prodigy -> English/French -> Former Chelsea Academy Player -> Olympique Lyonnais Player -> Centreback -> ❤️ Mcdreamy

Idol

Cielo -> From Idol -> English -> Former Bristol City Player -> Barcelona Player -> Playmaking midfielder

#masterlist #woso community #woso

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sunnycanvas · 7 months ago

Text

Updated Masterlist

Fluff

King Baldwin IV reaction to drunk reader

King Baldwin IV reaction to reader being injured by her brother in law

Waking up early morning with Baldwin

Baldwin and Salah ad Din's daughter

Baldwin teaching his son chess and reader admiring them slight angst

Reader being married to Baldwin since childhood sharing kiss after Battle of Montgisard

Reader being blackmailed to leave Baldwin

Baldwin celebrating Christmas with reader and his in-laws in modern world

Jealous Baldwin reaction to reader wearing bikini

Baldwin comforting wife!reader after difficult birth

King Baldwin IV x Reader : Tantalizing Love slight angst

Reader teaches Baldwin to cook whilst she is pregnant

Baldwin taking care of pregnant wife reader

King Baldwin IV proposes female reader

(Y/N) gets caught Baldwin IV trying to heal him

Modern Day Baldwin and (Y/N) meeting again after dreaming of each other

Baldwin IV celebrates (Y/N)'s Birthday

Headcanon

Being queen consort of Jerusalem

King Baldwin IV as lover, husband and father

King Baldwin IV being angry at reader

Angst

King Baldwin IV being unfaithful to reader Alternate ending 1 Alternate ending 2

King Baldwin IV has to annul his marriage with reader

Lost Cause

Baldwin choosing between woman and he loves and woman he has to marry

Baldwin reaction to wife!reader trying to cure him

King Baldwin IV being angry at reader Part 1 Part 2

Smut

King Baldwin IV x Reader: Throne Sex

King Baldwin IV x Reader : Misogyny Sex

King Baldwin IV x Reader : Period Sex

King Baldwin IV x Reader: Erotic Night

King Baldwin IV seducing shy physician reader

King Baldwin IV spending honeymoon night with reader

Reader asking Baldwin help for her lactating breasts

Baldwin and chubby wife!reader trying anal sex

King Baldwin IV x Small!Reader Smut : Size Kink

Baldwin IV and Salahuddin's daughter (y/n) having sex for first time before their first battle

Baldwin IV being pervert towards (Y/N)

Baldwin and Salahuddin

King Baldwin IV x Reader x Saladin Part 1 Part 2 smut

Widowed reader marries Salahuddin angst

Salahuddin

Reader spoils him and loves being near him

Horror

Spectral Descent

History

A letter from King Baldwin IV and Princess Sibylla of Jerusalem Source: https://epistolae.ctl.columbia.edu/letter/25233.html

King Baldwin IV of Jerusalem appearance-STUDY by MariaExe on DeviantArt.com Artist- MariaExe on DeviantArt

King Baldwin IV appearance based on historical painting Part 1 Part 2

A letter From King Baldwin IV of Jerusalem to King Louis VII of France Source: Bernhard Hamilton -The Leper King and his heirs

LETTER FROM KING BALDWIN IV TO THE ENVOYS WITH NEWS OF SALADIN RAVAGES NABLUS, SEBASTE, AND OTHER TOWNS

Source:https://goodshksk.space/product_details/13546547.html

A Letter of Condolence to King Baldwin IV from Saladin Source: https://advocatetanmoy.com/2023/10/14/saladins-condolence-letter-to-king-baldwin-iv-of-jerusalem/

Seal of King Baldwin IV of Jerusalem Source:https://numismatics.org/collection/1956.152.1

Medieval Heroes: Baldwin IV

Miscellaneous

Would Baldwin be attracted to chubby and short person

Would Baldwin be unfaithful historically

Salahuddin: The conqueror of Jerusalem series King Baldwin IV

Would Baldwin be obsessive or possessive

Would Baldwin be impotent and would he be able to have sexual relationship

Can Baldwin be able to have sexual relationship: Revised Version

Did Historical Baldwin wear a mask and dress like the movie Kingdom of Heaven

Blurbs

NSFW thoughts

As Life Fades Sibylla remembers Baldwin IV

#kingdom of heaven #kingdom of heaven 2005 #kingdom of heaven fandom #kingdom of heaven fanfic #kingdom of heaven fanfiction #kingdom of heaven headcanons #baldwin iv #baldwin iv imagine #baldwin iv x reader #king baldwin iv

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wellofdean · 5 months ago

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I wanted to make a separate pose to big up these excellent tags on this post about how a show can be about misogyny when it's about men from @deangirlism101 :

#by virtue of watching the show long after it stopped airing and after years of exposure to the fandom#I've experienced a very interesting phenomenon wherein i went in expecting a very straightforward male fantasy#specifically in regards to dean#and was continuously surprised by how dean was around women who were actual characters and not caricatures#with caricatures of women dean also becomes a caricature of a womanizer#but with woman characters? with victims and friends?#dean is constantly paternal/brotherly#endlessly protective and respectful#in fact dean's utter lack of sexualization of the complex women around him in the first few seasons#kind of had me thinking he might just be straightforward gay#additionally it's interesting to point out that dean is the only one of the three winchesters who does not have a#''symbolic woman'' that drives his narrative#i.e. of the three winchesters he is the one who engages with the women around him as people and not someTHING to give him ''purpose''#which ties pretty well into his own role in his family being a typically femenine one#john endlessly relies on dean to serve the role of his mother yet he resents him when he does it so naturally#which from a queer lense is pretty much spelling out ''john can't put his finger on it but something (queerness) about dean bothers him''#anyways it just surprises me how#the fandom has perpetuated this image of the characters#and how#ironically#that image is the exact caricature dean so obviously puts on and we so obviously are supposed to KNOW he puts on

Some really nice points here, and bang on target:

Dean is not called to his adventure/journey because a symbolic woman dies like John and Sam are; he is put upon it by his father and his own sense of responsibility and love before he has the agency to choose. He wants his father's approval, his brother's love, and he wants not to be alone in a world of monsters...and...is HE a monster? A killer? Is everything his fault?

John resents Dean because what he needs from Dean (obedience, domestic work, emotional labour) is feminine. It's what women are for. Dean internalizes that resentment. Sam defies John and is driven by his own losses, and John can respect that, but Dean becomes the family repository of what they've lost. Dean is the eldest daughter who can never do enough.

John has chosen to abandon normal life and live on the fringes to pursue his revenge quest, and Sam is fighting to get back to the center -- left his family, hot girlfriend, Stanford Law, credit in the straight world, friends. But Dean? He has accepted that he will never be normal. He has accepted that he will always be a lonely, liminal weirdo who knows something terrible about the world that most people are spared from knowing.

Like:

If you leave Supernatural season 1 without realising that everything Dean pretends to be is pretty much the opposite of what he is, then you are not watching it right, full stop. The Dean Winchester he pretends to be is a character invented by a terrified, homeless, wounded little boy who doesn't know how else to protect himself.

Second, if you can't see how totally fucking queer all that is, I CAN'T HELP YOU. And,

you cannot hit that many nails on the head without knowing where you're swinging your hammer, and in conclusion, Dean was always deeply queered, and that was in the DNA of his character.

The truth is, that Dean is a very cohesive character. He is written and performed beautifully, and with intention. He is not an accident, he is an artistic creation, and he is excellently drawn. I am not "giving the writers too much credit", I am taking an Occam's Razor-type view of it, and coming up with the simplest explanation for what I see on the screen.

That said, if by some insane magic trick they managed to make Dean this queer by accident? It doesn't matter what they intended, because THE TEXT IS WHAT IT IS. I don't need the permission of the authors to see a church by daylight, and Dean is THAT OBVIOUS.

#dean winchester #dean was always bi #spn

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themidnightcrimson · 2 years ago

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palette ࿏ wm

summary: in which your mother commissions a renowned painter to paint your portrait.

words: 6.0K

warnings: top!wanda, fem!reader, oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), lots of tense gay ogling, so much sexual tension, minor use of paint in sex, very victorian era girlie themed, mentions of men (scary!)

this post is for 18+ only. minors dni.

masterlist.

Your mother was being incredulous about the situation. Time and time again, you tried to convince her that you were not the marrying type, that she need not go to her extreme ends to find you a husband. Whether it was showing you off like show cattle at parties, offering to pay men to marry you with money or titles, or throwing you at the nearest man around, which one time ended up being the innocent post boy, she was relentless in marrying you off.

Any time a man did take an interest in you, which was not unreasonable due to your fair beauty and youth, you hated and despised him and dwindled down his integrity until he ran away like a dog clutching the remnants of his masculinity between his legs. Relief was momentary, for once you ran one off, she only brought around another.

Her new tactic that she invented in that stubborn little head of hers was to commission a renowned painter to paint your portrait to be hung in the halls of your wealthy home. With all the parties and dinners she hosted so desperately often to cling to her respected name in society, she thought that surely a young man would see the portrait of her jeweled and beautiful daughter and demand to own her. Of course, your mother demanded the best, so she hired the infamous Maximoff artist to paint your portrait.

“He will be here any minute,” she whispered behind you as she violently tightened the strings of your corset until you felt your stomach was tucked inside your ribcage.

Taking a shallow breath, the deepest one you could breathe, you looked down at the emerald green dress. It was a beautiful dress, sure. Gold lace crawled over the green corset at your waist, and the green parted at a low point in your bosom, opening wide to reveal your entire chest, metal wires ensuring that your breasts were pushed up and on full display. One thing about your mother was that she hid no tricks. You were her trick, and you were sure she would have you painted naked like a whore if it meant having a son-in-law and grandchildren.

“Mother,” you gasped when she tightened the corset even further, struggling to breathe. “Do you not expect a common man to want a wife who breathes?”

“Hush,” she snapped as she tied off the strings at your back. The dress’s intricate under-weavings made sure that your hips looked wider than your own intellect. Most of the time, you liked to prance around in delicate underdresses in which you could breathe and move freely. This dress, with its constricting corset and heavy hips and layers upon layers of white underskirts, made you feel like you were standing with your head in a noose.

“If he’s such an excellent painter, can’t he just use his own imagination about what I’m wearing? That’s what most men do in their heads, anyway.”

“Mr. Maximoff is the most respected artist in the country,” she breathed, circling you to look you once over. Her hands went to the breast of the corset, trying to lower it down even more.

“Mother!” you shrieked, widening your eyes at her and tugging the fabric back up. “Why are you trying to make me look like a whore in front of who you say is the most respected artist in the country?!”

“He’s Sokovian,” she argued. “They’re exotic.”

You rolled your eyes at her bitter distaste for foreigners, and if you could breathe, you would have let the venomous words roll off your tongue.

“Besides, even if he doesn’t paint you as a doable wife, perhaps he would graciously take you himself.” Her eyes flickered up to your hair which was swooped high up on your head, a few curls of your hair hanging over your cheeks. The earrings on your ears were heavy, and the jewels on your neck were even heavier. You felt like your outer bearings weighed a thousand pounds and were crushing your frail body with every passing second. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to die in that moment, you certainly did, but you would be damned if it was in such a ridiculous outfit.

A housemaid rushed into the room suddenly and declared, “The painter has arrived.”

Your mother nearly slapped you across the face with how fast her hands went to fixing your hair. “Send him in!”

There was a hesitant look on the maid’s face, but she left with her hands fumbling together. Your mother turned your shoulders towards the door, harshly slapping your lower back to make your back straighten. You sighed, feeling anxious at how little you could breathe. You grabbed at your neck as if that would help you breathe, but your mother slapped your hand away. “Don’t fidget.”

She stood next to you, her hands posed at her front, a wide smile on her face. You were pretty sure that she wanted her men to desire herself as much as they desired you, and sometimes you wondered if you might marry a man just so he could fuck your mother and get her out of your own ass.

“Smile,” she whispered, but that was one thing she would have to slap across your face before you ever would.

The door to the library opened slowly, and you could feel your mother’s excited breaths beside you. A booted foot stepped into the room first, your eyes following the body that stepped through. A leg clothed in wide grey trousers, a frilly cream blouse tucked into the pants. You were offput by a mane of long, wavy brunette hair, though your first instinct was maybe Sokovian men donned long hair as a cultural preference. But when you saw the face that glowed into the room, those viridescent eyes, sharp cheekbones with a feminine curve, supple pink lips, your own lips fell open as you realized that Mr. Maximoff was, in fact, a woman.

You thought your mother was going to spontaneously combust in a theatrical display of steaming, rageful sparks. You looked over at her—her eyes were glancing down the woman over and over again, trying to figure out how in the world this person could possibly be a woman, this person who she had built up to the be the key to breeding her own daughter.

You couldn’t help but gleam at the impossibly devastated look on her face. This painter was a woman standing here in pants, holding an easel with a canvas under one strong arm and a bag full of paints in the other.

“Mr. Maximoff?” your mother gasped stupidly.

By the look on the woman’s face, you could tell this wasn’t the first time. “Ms. Maximoff. Wanda.” She stepped forward, setting her supplies down on the floor. “It is a pleasure to meet you and have the honor of being commissioned by your name.” Her Sokovian accent was thick and velvety. She came closer, holding out a hand to your mother. She eyed it like it was a snake, but took it, and Wanda shook her hand like a man.

Her snakelike eyes flickered to you. “I presume this is your daughter—my subject?”

“Uh…” Your mother began, her eyes focused on the shape of Wanda’s breasts under her shirt as if in disbelief. “Yes, this is my daughter, y/n.”

Your eyes were trained on Wanda’s. They were looking at you pointedly, a little wide, soaking up every inch of your presence as if you were the only source of light in the room. Her lips curved into a coy smirk. “Pleasure,” she gently spoke, reaching for your hand. You gave it to her, expecting her to shake it, but she gently turned your palm over, her thumb tracing the soft skin on the back of your hand, before she lowered down and pressed her lips there.

It became even harder to breathe as the woman rose back up, the feeling of her lips still tingling on the skin of your hand. “You are as beautiful as your mother spoke of you.”

For once, you actually smiled without your mother forcing you to. Wanda stepped away, looking between you and your mother expectantly. “Well, shall I get to work? I do charge by the hour.”

Your mother was in some sort of trance. “Oh, um… Sure—well, you see Mr.—Ms. Maximoff—”

“Wanda.”

“… Wanda. I was, admittedly, under the impression that the painter I commissioned to paint my daughter’s portrait would be a man. Are you sure that you do not have a father or brother by the same name, or even a husband, who can come instead? You see, this portrait is going to be very important to me. I intend to show my daughter’s beauty and wealth so that I can find her a proper husband, and given that is such an important cause, I need a painter with the highest skill and artistry to do it properly.”

Wanda only blinked. “There is no other Maximoff but myself. I understand your concern about this portrait, but I ensure you that my skill and artistry will serve the best purpose for your daughter, though her beauty so obvious that even a street painter could convey it.” Her eyes flickered to you again, drawing up another smile on your face. It was funny how she was painting your face without even holding a brush.

Your mother’s eyes danced around uncomfortably. “Well…” She paused, looking over Wanda once again. “Alright.”

“Shall we do it here?” Wanda asked, pointing towards a sofa that sat in the corner of the library against a beautifully wallpapered wall.

“Alright,” your mother said reluctantly. Wanda instantly went to work, setting up her easel and canvas in front of the sofa. She then turned to you, holding out her hand with that sort of smirk on her face. “Come.”

Hesitating, you stepped forward, sliding your hand into her soft, gentle one. She led you over to the sofa, gesturing you to sit, holding your hand until you were fully seated. You squirmed a little as she looked down at you, her eyes appearing darker now that she was turned away from your mother who stood watching with nervous eyes and fidgeting hands. Wanda was staring down at you with an unreadable expression, and when your mother cleared her throat in the silence, it seemed she almost forgot she was there.

Wanda turned to look at your mother, clasping her hands behind her back and taking a few steps towards her.

“My lady, I do find my creative focus more intent when in the presence of only my muse and myself,” Wanda spoke confidently. Your mother was obviously taken aback by this, as if she had expected to watch the entire process, her hand of control over every little thing. She liked to think she was God, or at least God of your world and everything that had to do with you.

“Oh—are you sure?”

Wanda smiled graciously and nodded.

Your mother looked between Wanda and you reluctantly before finally nodding and stepping away. “Well, if you need me, you can ring the bell for the maid.” She paused again, waiting to be told to stay, but Wanda only stared at her, so finally she left, closing the door gently behind her.

You could breathe a little easier now that your mother wasn’t in the room. Wanda sighed and turned on her heel to face you. Your back straightened instinctively under her prolonged stare, your eyebrows creasing to try and figure out why she was staring at you with her head tilted as if you were already a painting hung in a gallery.

“Confusion doesn’t look good on you, darling, and it surprises me so that anything could not look good on you,” she smoothly murmured, taking slow steps parallel from you. She disappeared behind the easel before reappearing on the other side of it, her eyes still trained on you.

You shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. “You’re staring at me.”

She blinked, a smile widening on her face. “I’m supposed to paint you. How can I do that without ever looking at you?”

Your face warmed a little, eyes darting down to the floor. She made a noise with her tongue before she went over to the large window of the grand library, pulling on a chain to close the thick, heavy curtains until the room was blanketed in darkness. You could hardly see anything now—you heard the fumbling of things and the striking of a match before a golden light emanated from the table nearby. Wanda had lit a candle, bringing the match near her lips and blowing on it to put it out.

“What are you doing?”

She walked to the other side of the sofa where another smaller table was and lit a candle there too, so that now you were blanketed in a soft, orange huge.

“This painting is to attract men to you for the purpose of marriage, correct?” she asked as she blew the second match out. “What’s more attractive than dim lighting under the intimate glow of candles?” Her eyes, darker now, flickered to you as she walked back to her easel, dragging a nearby stool to the easel and lighting one last candle there so that she could see her work.

“How sensual,” you remarked, to which a hidden smile curled on her lips, shadowed by her hair.

Wanda reached into her bag and brought out a palette, a tin can of brushes, a jug of water, and several bottles of paint, placing them all on the stool beside the easel. You expected her to just be quiet and start painting, but she walked towards you. Your chin rose to keep your eyes on hers as she neared you, looking down at you analytically.

“Sit back a little,” she said softly, “So your back is against the cushion.” You did as she said, scooting back until you could sit up straight with the support of the cushion. “Good. Now, your hands…” She looked at where you had placed them, lying mindlessly on either side of your lap. “What are we going to about those?” She smirked again.

“What do you mean?”

“Hands are as integral part of a portrait as is the face,” she tilted her head and leaned back, imagining your visage as a whole. “Cross them over your lap.”

You plopped them over each other on your knees, expecting that to be good enough, but when you glanced back at her, she was trying not to laugh. “What?” you asked defensively.

“Nothing,” she said, her Sokovian accent edged with amusement. “Here.” She knelt down in front of you, gently taking your wrists into her hands. You held your breath as she positioned them very particularly over your lap, trying to ignore the way her fingertips grazed the fabric of your skirt and left wrinkles in the fabric there, indentions of her touch. Her hands touching yours so delicately was sending jolts of electricity up your spine. You blasphemed yourself for being so shy of a simple touch, from a girl, nonetheless.

Once she had your hands positioned the way she wanted, she stood back up and assessed your top half. You caught the way her eyes fed upon your chest for a brief, startling moment before she looked up to your face. “Sit up a little straighter.” She put her hands on your shoulders, gently guiding you to sit up, her fingertips sliding to your upper back. You grew bothered at how handsy she was being. Her hands moved to your face, adjusting the curls of hair that were left out of your updo. Her face was close to yours now, her cool breath fanning across your mouth and leaving you no room to breathe, a heat forming under the skin of your face.

You recoiled suddenly, and she looked at you with unnerved eyes. “Did I hurt you?”

Her sudden change of confidence at the thought of somehow paining you by moving your hair eased your discomfort a little. “You’re reminding me of my mother. Always picking at me, fixing me.”

Her lips pursed together. “Your mother fixes you to her liking. I’m fixing you to yours.”

You eyed her suspiciously. “I haven’t said a word to you about any of my likings.” You noticed how quiet you were speaking, how quiet the room was, how close you were together in the corner of the large room.

“You don’t have to. I can tell,” she whispered with a crawling smile, adjusting your hair one last time before finally moving away from you. “Now, just sit.”

“Seems simple enough,” you breathed once she was finally behind her easel, trying your best to stay still.

She picked up her palette and started mixing paints and water, tussling through some brushes before finding one she wanted, and you finally heard the scraping of her brush on the canvas. You would have much rather been behind the easel with her, watching with as much curiosity and intrigue as you had then as she worked, than be sitting still like a lifeless doll as her eyes stared at you.

After several minutes of having her look between you and the easel, you started to get uncomfortable. The corset was still restricting your breath, and it felt impossible to keep your hands completely still. The dress was making your back hurt, and the painful silence and the feeling of Wanda’s eyes constantly on yours was enough to make you go mad. You hadn’t even realized that you were starting to squirm, accidentally moving your hands and your position.

You heard a sigh which led you to look back up at Wanda. She set the palette down, along with her brush, and stepped out from behind the easel, pacing back and forth with her eyes set upon you in a sort of disappointed and confused stare.

“What?” you blurted, feeling offended that somehow she thought you couldn’t even just sit to her liking. “What am I doing wrong?”

“You’re fidgeting,” she said with more seriousness, her artistic focus shining through.

You looked down and realized that somehow over the course of a few minutes you had completely lost the original position she had you in. You sighed, deflating as sharp pains ran up your torso. “I’ve never been painted before.”

“Well, it’s an honor to take your portrait virginity,” she countered with a little smirk, ceasing her pacing to stand staring at you with a tilted head.

A searing hot blush fled to your cheeks. “You speak like a man.”

“You’re sitting like one.”

You realized you were lounging disgracefully on the sofa with your back hunched and legs open. Snapping your legs shut, you groaned and laid back on the sofa dramatically. “I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this.”

“You don’t want to be painted?”

“No! And I don’t want to be married off to some bastard and bred like swine until I die. I cannot breathe without her trying to stuff me into a man’s side like an armpiece. I cannot breathe with her constantly in my ear speaking to me how I should talk better, walk better, sit better, stand better, look better. I cannot breathe—I just cannot breathe!” You leaned forward suddenly, feeling faint and gasping for air, clawing helplessly at the front of your corset whose fabric was stuck to your skin.

Wanda neared you calmly, holding out a hand in front of your face. Still gasping, you looked up at her, eyes falling to her hand. Feeling helpless, you slid your hand into yours and stood to face her. You realized then suddenly just how beautiful she was, with her full mouth and sharp eyes that were always piercing into you. Without speaking, her hands slid over your shoulders and smoothly turned you around. You froze, confused about what she was doing until you felt her fingers at your back and the sound of strings being undone.

“What are you doing?!” you exclaimed, knowing how long it took your mother to zip you up in that dreadful thing and how, if she knew you had undone it, she would tie it up even tighter.

“I cannot paint you like this,” her husky voice spoke close behind you. “You look dead in this dress.”

“God,” you breathed as she tugged at the strings, causing your body to move with her force. “That’s an interesting way to call someone ugly.”

“You are not alive like this,” she explained, “I can tell that this is not you. This is only a shell, a makeup of your mother. I am not here to paint your mother—I am here to paint you. My muse has to be completely herself, with no facades or lies. I need to see you as you are, truly and honestly. And also, you do look two heartbeats away from death by asphyxiation in this damned thing.” With a forceful tug, she ripped the back of the corset open so forcefully that your body was yanked backwards towards her, but she caught you, hands firmly on your waist.

You gasped in a full breath of air, and although it was a dusty library, it was the freshest breath of air you had ever taken. You were leaning back against her chest now, strands of her brown hair over your chest. Her hands holding your waist slid upwards a little, your body shivering at the feeling.

Her mouth was close to your ear as she whispered, “I’m going to undress you as gently as I can…” As her breath fanned against your ear, alighting all kinds of nerves in your spine that you’d never felt before, her hands slid around the front of your abdomen. “But forgive me if my creative expressions make me a little…forceful.”

She punctuated her words with an aggressive tug on your corset, which made you gasp sharply. She peeled it off your upper body, grabbing at the hips of the dress and tugging it down, also, bending and pulling all the green off your body until it was pooled at your ankles in a pathetic lump of fabric. You turned your head, looking down at Wanda who was crouched at your calves and staring up at you with parted lips and seductive eyes.

Wanda’s hand snaked around your smooth ankle first, cupping your shin as she started to rise, moving back around to behind your knees, lifting up your layers of underskirts as she went. She rose up behind you now, dragging her hand all the way up your leg under your skirt until it was on your hip, centimeters away from your bum.

Your heart was beating fast in your body that was growing warmer even without the top layer of clothing now. All that was left was the white slip that covered your body and the second underskirt.

“I need to see the real you, detka,” she spoke, Sokovian accent think and sensual in your ear.

You could smell her strong perfume of fig, her soft hair tickling your shoulders. You couldn’t believe that this woman had just ripped your dress from you and had you standing in barely any clothing that you wouldn’t even let your mother see you in.

“How can I convey you on canvas if I don’t know you?” She whispered, and the slightest graze of her lips against your ear sent a jolt down your body.

Her fingertips went to your shoulders, tickling your skin as she guided the thin strap of your slip down your shoulders, bringing you to shiver.

“Wanda,” you breathed, unsure of what you wanted to say. Sliding her hands over your skin, keeping her touch on you, she circled you, coming in front of you to look into your eyes.

“Trust me, detka,” she whispered, “I’m a master of the arts. I know what I am doing.”

That she did, with a smirk as she slowly pulled your slip down. You tried to stand confidently under her gaze and touch, but when you felt the silky fabric catch over your breasts and then fall below to reveal them, you gasped desperately for air. Her eyes flickered down, feasting upon the sight of you with utter desire and sensuality. Her mouth was open, lip nearly trembling as she pulled the slip down over your intimate stomach, and then pushed it along with the second skirt off your hips so that you were standing bare and entirely naked in front of her.

“Beautiful,” she breathed with ragged voice. “So… fucking beautiful.”

The vulgar word pierced your spine and made your body heat even more. Your skin was flush and pink under the close, golden hue of the flickering candles, that same unsteady light revealing Wanda’s bulging pupils and darkened irises. She was devouring you with her eyes, and through the lust you saw the creative plates molding perfectly together in her mind.

“Lay down,” she said with faltering voice, clearing her throat as she guided you to the sofa.

No one had ever seen you naked before, and you kept that thought in mind as you carefully climbed onto the sofa, her hand on your lower back leading the way. “On your back,” she demanded, but suddenly she caught you before you laid down, reaching into your hair and undoing it with one pull of a pin. Your hair flooded down your shoulders messily, and you gasped, knowing just how undone you looked. Was she going to paint you like this? In the nude? You knew that was far from what your mother wanted in the portrait, but your mother was even farther away from your thoughts as the Sokovian artist’s hands guided you to lay on the sofa.

“Move on your side slightly,” she instructed, voice taught with many different emotions you couldn’t completely discern. You were halfway on your back and halfway on your side, some of your hair over your chest and some of it cascading down the arm of the sofa above your head.

Finally, she stepped away from you, and you thought you would feel cold without her touch, but her eyes were enough to keep the fire broiling in your stomach alive.

You were sprawled out on the couch like a whore. One leg reaching over the other end of the sofa, the other one halfway off the edge of the cushion. One arm laying on the cushion lifeless, the other one reaching across the top of the sofa. You were wearing nothing but the thick jewels on your upper chest and the earrings hidden behind your hair except for a few twinkles where the light shone through the strands. The golden light of the candles sparkled on the erected rosy peaks of your breasts, flickered off the skin of your stomach.

“Perfect,” Wanda said, grabbing a towel that she had laid on the stool and casting it over her shoulder, her ravenous eyes not leaving yours as she picked up the palette and brush, beginning to scratch across the canvas madly, hardly tearing her eyes from yours.

Your chest rose up and down with the tension in your lungs. Something within you was throbbing at being laid out like this, having this sensual woman tear you apart with her eyes as she painted your likeness on the canvas.

The tension did not die with the silent minutes. It grew and built with every stroke of Wanda’s brush, with her every darting, overfilling look, with your every weak breath and throb of the multiple heartbeats throughout your body. It grew to a head until you felt like you were going to burn right through the cushions of the sofa like a soaring comet.

Every time her hand left the canvas to roll her brush into the pools of paint on the palette, her rings sparkled under the candlelight. There was a gleam on her skin, a craze in her eyes, a moistness to her lips that she repeatedly licked and bit. She was driving you mad without even touching you, and you could tell that you were doing the same to her with the way she painted the canvas so hard that it trembled on the easel.

Finally, without you having to even say anything, she dropped the palette and brush on the stool and dragged the towel away from her shoulder, eyes trained on your body. She had painted so wildly that there were smudges of color on the white sleeves of her blouse and covering her hands. She came to you so quickly that you didn’t even know she was there until she was knelt beside the sofa, placing a hand on your lower stomach.

Her hand sent a streak of color up your skin as she slowly slid it up your abdomen. Red, yellow, green, blue, all streaked together from her hands as she touched the smooth expanse of your skin.

“When I first came in,” she began in a tremulous whisper, “I knew it would be impossible to hold my focus while I painted your portrait.” Her hand swiftly curved around your breast and cupped it, relishing in the supple feeling of your flesh. Your eyes fluttered closed, legs mindlessly moving as she touched you shamelessly, and you let her. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I don’t even have to paint you to make you a walking piece of art.”

You didn’t know what to say as her compliments landed on your skin like warm raindrops and evaporated into your pores, seeping into you and imbuing you with warmth. She bit her lip as she looked down to your breasts which she fondled, rolling her thumb over your hardened nipples. Your skin there was covered in her paint now, colors mixing and melting on the warmth of your skin.

“Is this your creative expressions speaking?” you whispered to her, and she smirked and tilted her head.

“No, it’s just me.” Her eyes flickered to your lips, and without hesitance she leaned forward and kissed you hungrily. You moaned, and with your lips parted she dove her tongue into your mouth. Her other hand found your delicate neck and squeezed it, the cold paint smearing on your skin as her tongue explored your mouth with utter force and desperation, like she needed to know every single corner and texture of your mouth and tongue.

She clambered on top of you, pinning you down on the sofa beneath. Her hands went mad across your body, squeezing and rubbing you everywhere she could, memorizing every single curve and sweet spot that made you arch up against her. Her kisses trailed down your skin, sucking and biting harshly until she made bright red and purple spots that blended in with the paint she had already left there. She made a painted mess of you right there on those cushions, mercilessly sucking on your nipples and pinching them until you were squirming beneath you with desperate need, grabbing at her soft hair and shoulders.

“Wanda,” you moaned as she lowered down your body, leaving wet kisses down your painted stomach until she was at your hips. She growled, glancing up at your bare, marked body before her, lowering herself down between your legs.

“You’re the sort of art that needs to be worshipped,” she grunted as she ran her hand over your thigh, swiveling around it to yank it up over her shoulder. Crouched down, she parted your legs open, moaning at the sight between your legs. She had dwindled you down into a wet mess, and the feeling of her warm breaths fanning against you there did no good for how much you wanted her to touch you.

Most of the paint that was on her hands had been transferred to your body, so she brought her fingers to your slippery folds, groaning at how soft and wet you were. “No one has touched you before?”

“No one,” you whispered, looking down at the lewd sight of this woman between your legs, even her slight touch on your folds making you jolt.

“Let me be the first.”

“Please.”

She wasted no time in lowering her head down and placing her mouth over your slit, running her tongue up your folds and to your clit, circling it with exact pressure. The moan that escaped your mouth was foul, and you bucked your hips towards her face as she started to lap at your clit, pausing every now and then to purse her lips and suckle at it.

“Oh, Wanda!” you exclaimed, forgetting that your mother could be right outside.

Reaching her hand up your belly, she clasped it over your mouth to silence your moans. You held her wrist, nails sinking into her skin as you trembled beneath her.

“You must be quiet, detka. What happens between an artist and her muse, stays there,” she whispered thickly, her mouth glistening with your own juices. She brought her fingers to your clit, pushing into it before lowering them down to your slick entrance. She watched your every expression and movement of your body as she slid two of her fingers inside you slowly, stretching your virgin hole around their length and width.

Your muffled moans were under her hand as she pumped her fingers deep inside you, curling them to graze the inner sweet spots inside you. Your hips jerked as she lowered her mouth again to suckle at your clit while her fingers thrusted into you.

“You’re just as perfect inside as you are on the outside,” she moaned into your clit as she spread her fingers inside you, moving them more to just feel you than to pleasure you, but it certainly pleasured you all the same.

“Fuck, Wanda,” you cursed under her hand, feeling a coil spring tight in your lower belly. She trailed her kisses over that part of your belly, as if she could feel the tension there.

“You’re being such a good muse, such a good girl for me,” she whispered, rubbing your clit with her thumb as she squeezed a third finger inside you. “I’m inclined to take you away with me and make you the muse for all my work. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Living with me, a slave to my touch and my kiss, a wet little hole for me to fuck when I’m creatively and sexually frustrated. Wouldn’t you?”

Her thrusts were hard now, her voice snaky and thick. You whined and moaned pathetically under her hands, bucking your hips wildly off the sofa. You nodded to her question, burning at the way she laughed. “My little whore, letting me fuck her right here on the sofa, all naked and covered in paint.”

Wanda’s words twisted in your ears and wound you up even tighter, your inner walls squeezing around her fingers that pushed through them. She bit the skin of your belly hard, and with a few more pumps of her fingers, she wound you so tight that you snapped, the coil in your stomach breaking and unleashing screams and shivers of climactic pleasure and euphoria that blinded you. She talked you through it, praising you for being such a good muse, kissing your stomach and rocking her fingers more gently inside you.

You finally came down from your orgasmic high, knees trembling around her shoulders as she crawled up you, giving you a multitude of calming kisses all over your face. You sighed and looked at her with a shy smile, still struggling to catch your breath.

Grinning, she stepped back and looked at you. Your face was bright red with pleasure, a gleam shining off your skin, your body looking even more relaxed with the post-fuck glow that she had been craving to carve out of you from the very beginning. Grabbing her palette and brush, she eyed you from behind the easel, smirking under the candlelight that remarked her viridescent eyes.

“Stay just like that.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #marvel #lgbt #lesbian #wanda maximoff x f!reader #wanda maximoff x y/n

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