#lesbian fanfiction

[stuiie]

Don’t Cry No Tears Now, it’s Christmas, Baby

༊*·˚ Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Christmas is all about spending time with your favorite people, laughing, sharing stories, and enjoying the little moments that make the season special. But nothing could have prepared you for the kind of love that shows up in so many shapes and forms. From the warmth of a quiet hug to the sound of laughter echoing through the room, or even just sharing a mug of hot cocoa in the quiet snowfall, it’s the kind of magic that sneaks up on you and makes everything feel right.

Tags: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Special, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Established Relationship, Romance, Love, Domestic Fluff, Friendship, Set in the future The Color of You.

Words: 7,3K

Authors note: I’m a little stuck on the main story right now, and then I heard Snowman by Sia (if you haven't heard it I recommend listening to it), and I couldn’t resist writing this little Christmas piece. It’s set in the future of The Color of You, but I really hope you’ll enjoy it. Sorry for being a bit sappy, I’m just feeling a little blue these last couple of days.

  ⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋆⋅✧⋅⋆

The air was thick with the warmth of Christmas, every breath infused with the scent of gingerbread and mulled wine. It wrapped around you like a soft blanket, tugging you deeper into the comforting magic of the season. From the doorway, you caught sight of Natasha and Wanda in the kitchen, moving together in a silent, intimate rhythm. They danced around one another—hands brushing, laughter quiet but alive—as they prepared the Christmas dinner. For a moment, you simply watched, your heart swelling with a mix of affection and awe. The scene was theirs, so tender it felt like a secret you didn’t want to disturb. Smiling softly, you turned away, slipping back into the living room.

Yelena’s cackling was the first thing you heard as you flopped down onto the couch beside her. On the TV, Home Alone played in full volume, and Yelena, unable to contain herself, flung a fistful of popcorn at the screen. You groaned dramatically at the mess, shooting her a look she ignored entirely. Muttering under your breath, you knelt to pick up the scattered popcorn, knowing full well that Wanda would have a fit if she saw it.

It had been Wanda, after all, who had greeted you earlier with almost childlike excitement. She had covered your eyes the moment you stepped through the door, chuckling warmly as she guided you inside. “No peeking,” she had teased, her voice bright and warm. When she finally let go, the gasp that escaped you was entirely genuine.

The Christmas tree stood in the center of the living room, towering and radiant. Its branches were adorned with gold and red ornaments that shimmered like jewels under the soft fairy lights. A ribbon of gold and red spiraled from top to bottom, its edges catching the light as if dusted with stardust. It wasn’t just a tree; it was magic.

You had drifted around the room in quiet awe, taking in every detail—the stockings hanging above the crackling fire, the wreaths laced with twinkling lights, the faint scent of pine that blended perfectly with the warmth of the room. It was all so beautiful it made your chest ache. And just as you reached out to touch one of the ornaments, Natasha’s arms had wrapped around you from behind.

“Mistletoe,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek before tilting your face toward hers for something softer. The warmth of her lips lingered, leaving you breathless. But before you could respond, laughter filled the air, and you turned to find Wanda holding the mistletoe high above you both, her smile so fond it made your heart flutter.

“My turn,” Wanda teased, stepping closer. She tilted your chin gently with her fingers and kissed you—soft at first, then deeper, as though drawn in by a force neither of you could fight. Her slender fingers slid through your hair, slow and tender, as her tongue teased yours, sparking something that made your knees weak. It left you dazed and full of wanting, your selfish heart already begging for more. Somewhere deep inside, you wondered if their love would ever feel less overwhelming—if you would ever feel worthy of it. But in that moment, surrounded by warmth and wonder, you didn’t care.

“Earth to idiot.”

Yelena’s shove snapped you out of the memory, and you tipped sideways into the cushions with an indignant noise. You shot her a glare, but she only grinned wickedly, entirely unapologetic.

“Come on,” she said, tugging at your arm as she stood. “We’re going out. Fresh air will do you good.”

“Yelena—”

“No arguing!” she called, already halfway across the room. “Nat, Wanda! We’re heading out for a bit!”

You hesitated only a moment before following her out. The air was crisp and bit at your cheeks, the kind of cold that left you feeling wide awake and alive. A soft hush had settled over the neighborhood, the quiet broken only by the crunch of snow beneath your boots. The streets were blanketed in white, the snow glimmering faintly under the glow of streetlamps.

For a while, neither of you spoke as you walked toward the park. The world felt impossibly still, as if you had stepped into a snow globe—a perfect, fleeting moment suspended in time. You let out a breath, watching it mist in the cold air, and glanced at Yelena, who walked with her hands shoved in her pockets, a content smile tugging at her lips.

Yelena grasped your hand and tugged you toward the small market, her excitement spilling out in a constant stream of chatter. She rambled about everything—the crafts she wanted to see, the ridiculous sweater someone was wearing, and her plans to get the best hot chocolate in the market. Her energy was infectious, and as you listened, your chest filled with a familiar warmth. You stole a glance at her rosy cheeks, glowing from the cold, and at the way the twinkling market lights reflected in her bright, carefree eyes.

The line for hot chocolate was long, but Yelena didn’t stop talking, her enthusiasm like a balm against the chill of the late afternoon. You felt yourself smiling, a rare kind of peace blooming in your chest as you stood there with her, your boots crunching in the snow. Finally, with steaming paper cups filled with hot chocolate in hand, the two of you began wandering through the market, weaving between clusters of people.

The stalls were filled with handmade crafts: delicate wooden carvings, candles with cinnamon scents, and beautifully knitted scarves you admired but didn’t dare touch. Yelena pointed out the more peculiar items—like a hat that resembled a chicken—and cracked jokes that had you doubling over in laughter. Every so often, the scent of roasting chestnuts or spiced pastries would curl through the air, making the moment feel all the more magical.

Eventually, you found yourselves on the bridge, its old stone dusted with snow and worn smooth by years of stories. You slowed to a stop, instinctively lingering there. It was just a bridge, but to you, it had become something more. So much had happened here—quiet talks, shared tears, and promises whispered into the night. It was a place where time felt a little less fleeting.

You clutched your hot chocolate and watched families gathered below, their small children tossing bread crumbs to eager ducks. Their laughter carried up to you, soft and bright against the crisp evening air. A pang of nostalgia washed over you, pulling you back to when you and Yelena were that small—when the world felt bigger, and magic was something you never questioned. It wasn’t that life wasn’t magical now; it was just... different. Softer, quieter.

Yelena bumped your shoulder, snapping you out of your thoughts. Without hesitation, you leaned into her, resting your head against her shoulder. “Thank you for this,” you murmured, the words barely escaping in the misty cold.

Yelena didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. Instead, she shifted ever so slightly so that her shoulder fit more comfortably beneath your head, a silent reassurance that you were always enough for her, just as she was for you.

On the way back, the silence was easy and familiar, broken only by the sound of your boots crunching in the snow. As you reached an open patch of untouched white, Yelena grinned and dropped to the ground, flailing her arms and legs to make a snow angel.

“You’re ridiculous,” you teased, but before long, you joined her, the two of you lying side by side, laughing into the sky as snowflakes danced down to kiss your cheeks.

Then, just as you stood up, brushing snow from your coat, Yelena’s smirk deepened. “Uh-oh,” she said, examining the imprint you left behind. “Pretty sure you made that snow angel in dog poop.”

“What?!” Your heart leapt in panic as you scrambled to inspect the snow beneath you.

It took only a second to realize Yelena’s shoulders were shaking with suppressed laughter, her lips pressed tightly together to stop herself from bursting. “You should’ve seen your face!”

“Yelena!” you shouted, a mix of relief and outrage bubbling up as you scooped a handful of snow. She bolted with a laugh, her boots kicking up little puffs of white as you chased after her, pelting her with snowballs.

By the time you reached the house, both of you were breathless, your cheeks flushed, your coats dusted in snow. Yelena collapsed on the steps, breathless with laughter, and you couldn’t help but grin as you flopped down beside her. The stars above seemed to twinkle in time with your joy, and as you sat there together, you knew—this moment, as simple and silly as it was, would linger in your heart for years to come.

When you finally stepped inside, the warmth of the house enveloped you like a well-worn blanket, but it was immediately clear that the guests had arrived. The soft hum of chatter and the faint clinking of glasses carried from the living room, but your attention was drawn to Wanda, who stood in the entryway, arms crossed and an amused yet stern look on her face. Her gaze swept over you and Yelena, taking in your snow-dusted coats, flushed cheeks, and tousled hair. She shook her head fondly, though the sharp arch of her brow told you she wasn’t entirely pleased.

You gave her your best sheepish smile, cheeks still pink, but she didn’t budge. Before you could say a word, Natasha appeared around the corner, a wide grin spreading across her face as she took in the sight of the two of you. “Well, well, look at this pair of snow gremlins,” she teased, her tone dripping with mockery.

Yelena grumbled and started wrestling with her jacket, but Natasha, with the grin of someone who thrived on chaos, moved to block her path. “Here, let me help you,” Natasha cooed innocently, tugging at Yelena’s sleeves with just enough force to turn it into a proper struggle.

“Nat, stop,” Yelena growled through gritted teeth, her arms halfway out of the coat as Natasha cackled, unhelpful as ever. The two of them twisted and stumbled around the entryway like overgrown children, Yelena’s curses mixing with Natasha’s gleeful laughter. You bit your lip, determined not to laugh, as you fought to remove your own jacket, gloves, and hat without getting caught in the chaos.

Natasha’s teasing escalated, tugging Yelena this way and that until—

“Natasha,” Wanda’s voice rang out, cool and sharp enough to cut through the madness.

Natasha immediately let go, her smirk still firmly in place, while Yelena staggered backward, cursing in Russian as she finally shrugged off the jacket and sent Natasha a sharp glare. With all the grace of someone who didn’t know when to quit, Yelena flipped her off, a wild scowl on her face, which only made Natasha grin wider.

You couldn’t help it—you broke. A burst of laughter escaped you, loud and bright, filling the space like sunlight. Wanda turned her gaze on you then, unimpressed and unamused, though there was something in her eyes that betrayed her fondness.

“Sorry,” you managed between giggles, stepping closer to her. To soften the blow, you leaned in and pressed a light kiss to her cheek. “Forgive me?” you whispered, your breath brushing against her skin.

She sighed, her expression softening just a little as her arms fell to her sides. “Go get ready before I change my mind,” she muttered, her voice half affectionate, half exasperated.

“Will do,” you chirped, stealing one last glance at Natasha and Yelena—who were still bickering under their breath—before heading upstairs.

In Yelena’s room, the world seemed quieter, the sounds of the house fading behind the closed door. You peeled off your snow-damp clothes, shaking your head as Yelena flopped dramatically onto the bed with a satisfied sigh.

“You’re insufferable,” you teased, earning only a shrug in response.

“I’m charming, and you know it.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you rifled through the closet for something to wear. Yelena eventually sat up, humming along to the Christmas songs now streaming softly from the speaker. She watched you thoughtfully for a moment before standing. “Sit,” she commanded, gesturing to the chair in front of the vanity.

“What? Why?”

“Because you need to look cute, and I’m in the mood to help,” she replied, digging through your makeup bag.

You rolled your eyes but complied, settling into the chair as Yelena set to work. It wasn’t long before she was singing along to the Christmas music, her voice louder and more off-key than necessary. You couldn’t help but smile as she swayed to the beat, brushing powder across your cheeks with dramatic flair.

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” you said, raising a brow as she grinned at her reflection in the mirror.

“Obviously. You’re like my little art project.”

Despite her teasing, Yelena’s touch was careful and gentle as she worked. You watched her in the mirror, your heart swelling as you took in her playful expression, the flush in her cheeks from earlier, and the way she still hummed along as though she hadn’t a care in the world.

When she finally stepped back, admiring her work, she beamed. “Perfect. You’re a masterpiece.”

You laughed softly, meeting her eyes in the reflection. “Thanks, Lena. For everything.”

She rolled her eyes as though it was no big deal, but her grin softened into something quieter, more genuine. “Anytime,” she said, nudging your shoulder. “Now let’s go before Natasha eats all the good food.”

Together, you stood, the warmth of the moment lingering between you as the music played on.

When you joined everyone downstairs, the hum of laughter and conversation welcomed you like a favorite song. The room was alive with a glow that went beyond the soft lights and garlands—it was the kind of warmth that came from family, chosen or otherwise.

Val was the first to spot you, her face lighting up as she strode over. She pulled you into a firm side hug, dropping a soft kiss to the crown of your head in that way only she could—casual, yet grounding. “About time,” she teased gently before turning to Yelena. She hugged her tightly, ruffling Yelena’s hair like an older sibling might, earning a dramatic groan of protest.

As you stepped further into the room, your gaze fell on Agatha and Rio lingering by the window. Agatha, always sharp-tongued and full of sarcasm, was mid eye-roll at something her wife had said. Rio, unbothered and clearly amused, slipped an arm around Agatha’s waist and pulled her close. For a moment, Agatha’s familiar air of indifference cracked, softening as she allowed Rio to press a tender kiss to her lips. It was intimate and unguarded in a way that made you look away with a faint smile, as though you’d stumbled on something private yet precious.

Your eyes scanned the room and landed on Pepper, who stood across the way chatting with Maria. They both raised their glasses in your direction in greeting, their smiles easy and genuine. You nodded back with a wave, your heart swelling at the sight of so many people you cared about all gathered here.

Feeling the pull of a familiar presence, you slid over to Natasha, who was standing near the dining table with a glass of wine in hand. You hugged her side, and she turned to you with a wide smile that lit up her face. Without hesitation, she tugged you closer, dropping a kiss on your forehead.

“There you are,” she said softly, her voice carrying a note of fond relief.

“Here I am,” you replied with a grin, feeling a little more at home with her arms around you.

As dinner was served, the room buzzed with warm chatter and the clinking of glasses. You found yourself seated between the Romanoff sisters, and the sense of belonging was enough to bring a lump to your throat if you let it.

Yelena nudged you playfully with her elbow as she stole a roll from your plate, while Natasha gave her a look that could have frozen fire. “Really?” Natasha drawled, but you couldn’t miss the glimmer of affection in her eyes.

“What?” Yelena grinned innocently, chewing shamelessly as she kicked her boots out under the table.

You just laughed, shaking your head as you broke off a piece of bread for yourself. Around you, the air was alive with a harmony of voices—Val joking with Pepper, Agatha and Rio trading sly remarks, Maria’s laugh ringing out above the rest, and Wanda’s voice mingling with it all like a melody you never tired of hearing.

The table was a sea of warmth and color: flickering candles reflected in wine glasses, bowls of roasted vegetables passed from hand to hand, and the occasional clang of utensils as someone reached too enthusiastically for a dish. It was noisy, imperfect, and absolutely perfect.

For a while, you just let yourself soak it all in—the sight of Natasha leaning in to tease Yelena, the sound of Agatha’s exaggerated scoff, and the way Wanda’s laughter curved through the air like a ribbon of light. This was what you had always longed for, though you hadn’t known it back then: a place to call home, and people who made you feel as though you were enough just by being there.

Wanda caught your gaze from across the table then, her eyes soft and searching. She smiled—small, almost private—and you returned it, your chest blooming with a quiet kind of joy.

After dinner, everyone chipped in to help with the dishes, laughter and conversation filling the kitchen as plates were passed and glasses were rinsed. Yelena, predictably, turned drying the dishes into a contest, boasting that she could dry faster than anyone else, only to drop a fork mid-spin and claim she was “letting you all win.” Natasha rolled her eyes, but her smirk betrayed her amusement, while Val and Maria exchanged knowing glances as though long accustomed to Yelena’s antics.

Once the kitchen was back in order, the group moved to the living room. The Christmas tree glowed softly, the twinkling lights throwing a warm shimmer over the room. The familiar sounds of Christmas music drifted from the speaker, low enough to leave space for the soft hum of chatter and clinking glasses.

Wanda, who had claimed a cozy corner of the sofa, caught your gaze and beckoned you over with a small wave of her hand. You couldn’t help but smile as you walked toward her, wine glass in hand, and let yourself settle against her. Her arms wrapped around you instinctively, pulling you closer as you leaned back into her.

Her fingers began combing lazily through your hair, a soothing motion that had you melting into her touch. “You’ll never believe it,” she murmured softly, her voice a gentle hum above the music. “I’ve been asked to create a sculpture for the new hotel downtown—the one opening next spring.”

You tilted your head slightly to look at her, your lips parting in awe. “Wanda, that’s incredible.”

The corner of her mouth tugged upward, though she tried to appear nonchalant. “It’s nothing too extravagant, just something to sit in the lobby. Modern but striking, they said.”

“It’s everything,” you said firmly, your heart swelling with pride. “I don’t know why you’re acting like it’s just another day. That’s amazing. You deserve it.”

Wanda’s hand stilled for a moment before resuming its gentle rhythm, her smile softening into something that reached her eyes. “You always say the right things, you know that?”

“I mean them,” you replied quietly, squeezing her arm lightly before resting your head back on her shoulder.

As the night wore on, the room settled into a peaceful rhythm. Wanda began humming softly along to the Christmas songs, her voice a low, melodic hum that matched the gentle sway of her arms as she held you. You felt the rise and fall of her breath, the quiet hum of contentment that radiated from her, and it wrapped around you like the warmth of a fire on a cold night.

On the other side of the couch, Natasha and Val had taken up their usual banter, their voices playful as they bickered over whose turn it was to top up the wine. Val gestured wildly, her face dramatic, while Natasha’s smirk only grew sharper as she leaned back, clearly enjoying the game.

Wanda’s toe suddenly nudged Natasha’s leg, drawing her attention. Natasha paused mid-sentence, looking over with a raised brow and a teasing smile. But when her gaze shifted to the two of you—Wanda holding you close, her fingers combing through your hair—her expression softened.

Wanda met Natasha’s gaze and gave her a small, knowing nod before glancing toward the tree. Natasha’s eyes brightened instantly, and her grin returned full force. She clapped her hands together, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Alright, people!” Natasha announced, her voice carrying over the chatter. “It’s time to swap gifts before Yelena falls asleep and pretends she doesn’t want any.”

“Hey!” Yelena piped up from where she sat sprawled on the rug, halfway through a gingerbread cookie. “That only happened once!”

“Three times,” Natasha corrected, earning a glare and a muttered insult in Russian.

Around the room, people began shifting, leaning forward to grab bags and boxes, and the chatter rose again, filled with excited murmurs and teasing jabs. You couldn’t help but smile as you sat up slightly, Wanda’s arms lingering around you for just a moment longer before she let go.

You thought you knew what to expect as everyone handed over their gifts with wide smiles and laughter that curled warmly around the room. But as the wrapping paper began to tear and presents were unveiled, you realized you hadn’t truly prepared for the chaos that would follow.

It began when Agatha unwrapped her gift with all the elegance of a queen—only to pull out a strap without the faintest shred of shame. “Well, would you look at that,” she purred, twirling the harness casually around her fingers as though it were a party favor.

“Agatha!” Wanda groaned, shaking her head with an amused exasperation.

Across the room, Rio grinned, unrepentant and clearly proud of herself. “Don’t act surprised. You know she’s going to wear it.”

Agatha shot Rio a sly look, her voice dripping with mock affection. “You spoil me, darling.”

The exchange was topped off with Val, who leaned back on the couch, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, looking pleased as ever. “Told you it would suit her.”

The laughter bubbled louder when Rio, unwrapping her gift, pulled a whip from its sleek box. She held it up for all to see, the leather swaying in her grip like a threat—an elegant threat.

“Practical and pretty,” Agatha echoed wryly while Val mouthed, you’re welcome, in Agatha's direction making it clear who was responsible for the gift, earning a grimace from Yelena.

Wanda’s chuckle vibrated against your back where she sat with you tucked comfortably between her legs, her arms draped loosely around your shoulders. Her laughter, rich and amused, sent warmth curling through your chest.

Then Yelena, sprawled on the floor, groaned dramatically, flopping onto her back as though the whip alone had sent her into an early grave. “Why are you all like this? This is Christmas, not… not—”

“Not whatever you think it is?” Val quipped, smirking as Yelena shot her a glare.

“Exactly.”

Before Yelena could say anything else, Maria and Pepper began unwrapping their presents, the room’s attention shifting. You tried to maintain your composure as Maria held up a piece of crimson lingerie with an appreciative smirk, Pepper laughing beside her as she showed off the delicate necklace she'd received.

“Balance,” Maria teased, holding up the jewelry and the fabric in each hand.

“Very elegant balance,” Pepper added with a wink, her smile easy and unbothered.

Then it was Val’s turn. She unwrapped her present eagerly, only for her expression to freeze mid-smirk. A moment later, the small box went sailing across the room, hitting Natasha squarely in the shoulder with an audible thud.

“What the hell, Romanoff?” Val barked, but Natasha was already laughing, one hand rubbing her shoulder.

Your gaze dropped to the floor, where the box of Viagra now lay. Your eyes widened in shock before a loud, unapologetic laugh burst from you, echoing Wanda’s quiet snickering behind you.

“That’s for future Val,” Natasha quipped with a grin.

“Future Val is going to kick your ass,” Val shot back, still glaring, though you could see the corner of her mouth twitching upward.

“Please stop,” Yelena groaned again, burying her face in her hands. “I can’t take any more of this.”

“Then let’s move on,” Natasha announced smugly, picking up a box and tossing it to Yelena.

Yelena looked almost relieved as she ripped off the wrapping, and the moment she spotted what was inside, her face lit up. It was the bomber jacket she’d been not-so-secretly wanting. “No way!” she gasped, her grin stretching from ear to ear. She immediately launched herself at Natasha, pulling her into a hug before pushing you unceremoniously aside to get to Wanda.

“Move,” Yelena ordered, practically shoving you with her elbow.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered, glaring at her dramatic display as you settled back into your spot between Wanda’s legs.

“Let her have this moment,” Wanda murmured, brushing her lips against the top of your head.

Yelena dropped back onto the floor and grabbed the final box—yours. You held your breath as she tore the paper with her usual reckless enthusiasm, but her hands stilled when the gift revealed itself.

Her expression softened instantly, and for a beat, the room seemed to quiet as she ran her fingers gently along the edges of the book. She opened it carefully, her movements uncharacteristically delicate. Inside were the photos you’d spent so long collecting and arranging—snapshots of your childhood together. Days of scraped knees, shared birthdays, and mischievous grins frozen in time.

Yelena’s lips parted slightly, her gaze fixed on a photo of the two of you, tangled in a heap of blankets on the couch when you were small. Her thumb brushed the corner of the page, and you watched as a quiet emotion passed over her features—something soft, something undeniably tender.

She looked up then, her green eyes shining with something deeper than words could express. “You made this?”

You nodded, your voice suddenly caught in your throat. “Yeah... I, uh, thought you’d like it.”

Yelena didn’t say anything. She just reached forward and pulled you into a hug—gentler this time, no shoving or teasing. It was the kind of hug that said everything she couldn’t put into words.

“Thank you,” she whispered against your shoulder, her voice quiet and sincere.

You smiled softly as you squeezed her back, Wanda’s hand brushing comfortingly over your arm from where she sat behind you.

As the night settled deeper into stillness, you made yourself more comfortable against Wanda, her arms wrapping around you like a second blanket. The couch seemed softer with her behind you, her warmth radiating through the room like a quiet fire. Her fingers had resumed their slow, absentminded path through your hair, each touch sending a calming wave through you.

You sighed contentedly, stealing a glance at Natasha, who sat stretched out in the armchair across the room. Her glass of wine dangled lazily from her fingers, the sharpness of her usual demeanor softened by the glow of the Christmas lights. Your heart warmed as you thought about earlier that morning when you’d exchanged gifts in private.

The painting Wanda had made for you—a breathtaking swirl of color that somehow captured both serenity and fire—already hung above the bed. The fact that she had spent hours, days even, creating something so perfect for you left you speechless. Wanda had insisted it wasn’t a big deal, brushing her fingers over your cheek when she gave it to you, but you knew better. That painting was a piece of her soul, and now it was yours to keep.

Natasha, in her typical Natasha way, had managed to surprise both of you with an upcoming getaway. “Just the three of us this time,” she had said firmly, pointing a finger at you as Wanda watched with amused affection. “Swear it. No ‘oops, I invited everyone’ like last time.”

You had smiled shyly, your cheeks warm under her gaze. “I promise,” you’d murmured, and the rare smile Natasha gave you in return had felt like the sun breaking through clouds.

Your own gifts had been simpler but no less heartfelt—handmade books similar to the one you gifted Yelena, pieced together with love and care. The pages were filled with photos and memories of the moments you shared with them, every snapshot holding a story: lazy Sunday mornings, playful smirks exchanged across rooms, quiet evenings spent in soft lamplight. For Wanda, you’d left empty pages, spaces for her to fill with her drawings. When she’d flipped through the book earlier, her fingers tracing the pages, her eyes had shimmered with unshed tears.

“This…” Wanda had whispered, pausing as though the words wouldn’t come. She looked at you then, her expression raw and tender. “This is beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

The way she had held you in that moment—like you were something precious and fragile—made your chest ache in the best possible way. You’d leaned into her embrace, letting the weight of her love settle around you, filling every corner of your heart.

Now, as the night moved along, the house gradually grew quieter. Maria, Pepper, and Val were the first to leave, their goodbyes punctuated with tired laughter and lingering hugs. Pepper promised to call in the morning, while Maria winked and whispered something to Val that made her chuckle as they stepped out into the cold night air.

Not long after, Agatha and Rio followed. Agatha, despite her perpetual sarcasm, hugged Wanda with genuine warmth before leaving. “You’re lucky I like you,” she teased, earning a dry laugh from Wanda as Rio waved at you all over her shoulder.

With their departure, the house grew quieter still, leaving only the four of you: Natasha, Wanda, Yelena, and you. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, the Christmas tree casting a golden glow across the room. The music had shifted to something softer, a slow instrumental rendition of an old carol that carried through the space like a whisper.

Yelena lay sprawled on the floor near the tree, her legs propped up on the edge of the couch as she absentmindedly hummed along to the music. Natasha sat nearby, a rare contentment softening her sharp features as she sipped the last of her wine.

Wanda shifted slightly beneath you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as she continued running her fingers through your hair. “You tired, Sweetie?” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

You shook your head, though your eyelids were starting to feel heavy. “Not yet.”

Natasha caught Wanda’s eye and smirked knowingly. “She’s lying.”

“I’m resting,” you protested, though your voice lacked any conviction.

Yelena snorted from her spot on the floor, reaching out to spin a forgotten ornament dangling near her fingers. “She’s probably dreaming about the dog-poop snow angel.”

You groaned, hiding your face against Wanda’s shoulder as laughter rippled through the room. Natasha leaned back in her chair, with a fond smile.

The teasing faded after a while, leaving behind a softer, gentler quiet. The four of you sat together, wrapped in the glow of the lights and the gentle hum of the music, the kind of silence that didn’t need to be filled with words. Natasha and Yelena bickered softly about something inconsequential, but their voices were low and affectionate, as though neither wanted to disturb the peace of the room.

Wanda’s arms tightened subtly around you, and you tilted your head to look up at her. Her gaze was soft as she met yours, her green eyes glowing faintly in the firelight. “Merry Christmas,” she murmured.

Your heart swelled as you smiled up at her. “Merry Christmas, Wanda.”

Natasha wandered over to where you and Wanda were nestled together on the couch, her playful smirk giving you only a second’s warning before she draped herself over both of you. “Natasha!” Wanda protested as the redhead covered you with her body, pinning you between them like a human blanket.

Natasha grinned wickedly. “What? You looked too cozy.”

Before you could respond, she blew raspberries against your neck, the unexpected sensation making you squirm and erupt into laughter. Wanda released an exasperated huff beneath you, her hands pushing halfheartedly against Natasha’s side.

“Do you mind?” Wanda muttered, though the fondness in her tone gave her away.

Natasha only leaned closer, pressing you down further as you giggled breathlessly, your cheeks aching from smiling. “I’m very comfortable, actually,” Natasha teased, her voice muffled as she nuzzled against your shoulder.

With the laughter still lingering on your lips, Natasha shifted and pressed a kiss to the corner of your lips, slow and tender, a stark contrast to her earlier antics. Your eyes fluttered closed, the playful atmosphere melting away for just a moment. But then Wanda’s voice broke through, dry and unimpressed.

“Please, Nat. I’d like to keep breathing.”

Natasha pulled back with a low chuckle, finally rolling off you and stretching out across the floor. “Fine, fine. I’ll let you live—for now.”

You laughed as you slid off the couch, joining Natasha and sprawling out beside Yelena on the carpet. You mimicked her pose perfectly, arms spread out and legs lazily crossed at the ankles.

Yelena turned her head, her expression softening as she caught your gaze. “You’re such a copycat,” she murmured playfully, a smile tugging at her lips.

“And you love it,” you teased back, earning a small laugh as you both settled into a quiet moment. The music played softly in the background, and you hummed along to the familiar tune.

Then, as the next song began you noticed Yelena’s gaze shift upward. Her head tilted slightly, and you followed her line of sight to where Wanda had risen from the couch. Without a word, Wanda crossed the room, her bare feet silent against the rug, and tugged Natasha’s hand, pulling her up with ease.

“What’s this?” you whispered, quirking an eyebrow at Yelena.

She groaned dramatically, rolling her eyes. “They do this every year,” she muttered, though there was no real annoyance in her tone—only that sibling fondness that comes with knowing someone too well.

“Do what?” you asked, your curiosity piqued.

“Just watch,” Yelena said, her voice resigned but soft.

You turned back just in time to see Wanda lead Natasha further toward the Christmas tree. Natasha grumbled something under her breath, though she didn’t resist. A faint smile tugged at her lips, betraying her enjoyment as Wanda spun her around, their fingers lacing together like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The golden lights from the tree cast a soft glow over them, their silhouettes swaying gently as Wanda pulled Natasha closer. The music carried them, a melody drifting through the air, and you realized that Wanda wasn’t just pulling Natasha into a dance—this was something that was theirs.

“Don’t cry, snowman, not in front of me, Who’ll catch your tears if you can’t catch me, darling? If you can’t catch me, darling…”

Wanda’s voice was quiet, a tender murmur at first, as though she was singing just for Natasha. Her fingers intertwined with Natasha’s, pulling her closer as they swayed. Natasha’s body followed hers without hesitation—her movements were unhurried, almost careful, as if she, too, understood the weight of this moment.

From your place on the floor, you stilled completely, unable to take your eyes off them. Beside you, even Yelena’s snarky remarks died in her throat.

“Don’t cry, snowman, don’t leave me this way, A puddle of water can’t hold me close, baby…”

Wanda’s voice grew steadier now, the words flowing like silk through the quiet. You felt something shift in the air, the melody curling softly around your chest and tugging at something deep inside you. It wasn’t just a song—it was a promise, a memory, a plea wrapped in lyrics and held between the two women who had always known how to find one another.

Natasha let out a soft exhale, something in her sharp edges melting away as Wanda pulled her in closer, spinning her under the warm glow of the tree. You could see it in the way Natasha looked at her—how her usual guardedness softened into something pure and unspoken.

Wanda sang on, her voice laced with a quiet fragility:

“I want you to know that I’m never leaving, ‘Cause I’m Mrs. Snow, till death we’ll be freezing…”

The words struck a chord in you, reverberating with a meaning you couldn’t ignore. Never leaving. Your throat tightened as you realized what they were really saying—what Wanda was saying. It wasn’t just for Natasha; it was for all of you. A reassurance, a vow spoken through the music. A reminder of the moments lost and the ones still waiting to be lived.

“Yeah, you are my home, my home for all seasons, So come on, let’s go.”

Wanda’s voice broke just slightly on the last word, a subtle tremor that lingered in the air, but Natasha didn’t let her falter. With a small, teasing smile, she spun Wanda around this time—carefully, almost reverently—before pulling her back into her arms. For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. They just stood there, forehead to forehead, their silhouettes bathed in the tree’s gentle light.

You swallowed hard, blinking away the prickling in your eyes as you looked away, unable to hold the sight for too long. It was beautiful in the way things often are when they hold too much truth.

Wanda’s voice resumed, even softer now, like a whisper against Natasha’s shoulder:

“Let’s go below zero and hide from the sun, I’ll love you forever where we’ll have some fun, Yes, let’s hit the North Pole and live happily, Please don’t cry no tears now, it’s Christmas, baby…”

The final words lingered, stretching out into the quiet like a fragile thread. It wasn’t lost on you how deeply they echoed into the space between you all—how they whispered of a time when the world hadn’t felt this whole.

Beside you, Yelena turned her head slightly, catching your gaze with a rare look of understanding that she didn’t need to put into words. You forced a small smile in response before looking back at Wanda and Natasha.

Natasha finally spoke, her voice low and rough, carrying a weight that didn’t quite match her usual teasing bravado. “We might not have to dance to this song anymore,” she murmured, her gaze flickering over to you where you laid on the floor with Yelena.

Wanda paused, her smile softening as she followed Natasha’s gaze, her eyes lingering on you for a long, quiet moment. The warmth in her expression deepened, something unspoken passing between the three of you that left your chest aching in the most beautiful way.

When Wanda turned back to Natasha, she pulled her closer, resting her forehead against hers. “No,” Wanda whispered, her voice tender and full of quiet certainty. “We don’t.”

Natasha’s lips twitched into a small, vulnerable smile, just as Wanda tilted her head and kissed her softly—slow, tenderly, and filled with years of love.

“I love you,” Wanda murmured against her lips, her voice carrying the weight of every unspoken promise.

Natasha let out a small, almost breathless laugh, as though the words had knocked something loose in her. “I love you too, Moya lyubov,” she replied, her tone equally soft, but steady as stone.

The two of them stayed there for a moment, wrapped up in each other, as if the world outside had ceased to exist. When Wanda returned to the couch you padded over and slid down between her legs again, pressing back into Wanda’s front. She didn’t say anything, but her fingers brushed gently through your hair, anchoring you to her in that quiet way she always did.

The music shifted again, but no one seemed ready to break the spell. Natasha reclaimed her seat near Yelena, and you could hear them exchanging soft words, though their voices barely registered. The fire crackled faintly in the background, the light of the flames dancing on the walls.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Wanda murmured quietly, her voice barely above a whisper against your temple.

You nodded, though your chest still ached with unspoken words. “Yeah,” you said softly, turning just enough to look up at her. “I’m more than okay.”

Wanda pressed her lips to your forehead, lingering there for a moment as if to confirm you were really here—that all of you were. “Good,” she whispered.

Across the room, Natasha sat quietly for a while, her gaze flickering between the fire, Yelena—now dozing peacefully on the floor—and the two of you curled up on the couch. She swirled her glass absently, her expression thoughtful, as though she were weighing whether or not to break the peaceful silence.

Eventually, she stood with a stretch and wandered over, her footsteps soft against the rug. Without saying a word, she sank onto the couch beside Wanda, nudging your legs lightly to make room.

“Move over, you two,” Natasha murmured, her voice low but teasing as she settled in.

Wanda huffed in mock protest but shifted slightly, pulling you closer into her arms to make space. Natasha, for all her sharp edges, leaned back against the cushions with a soft sigh, her shoulder brushing against Wanda’s. For a moment, she looked at you both, something unreadable in her gaze before it softened into something far more familiar—home.

“You couldn’t resist, huh?” you teased, lifting your head just enough to look at her.

Natasha quirked a brow, her lips twitching into a small smile. “You’d miss me if I didn’t, my little duckling.”

You didn’t argue, because she was right.

Without another word, Natasha draped an arm casually over the back of the couch, her fingers grazing the tips of Wanda’s hair. Wanda let out a contented hum, leaning her head briefly against Natasha’s shoulder before resuming her soft strokes through your hair.

The three of you sat in companionable silence, the fire crackling softly in the hearth and the faint sounds of Christmas music still lingering in the background. Yelena let out a sleepy snore from her spot on the floor, which made Natasha shake her head fondly.

As you rested against Wanda, Natasha’s presence now beside you, the feeling settled deeper in your chest—this was everything. After everything you had been through, every moment lost and every piece stitched back together, this was where you belonged. You were home.

Wanda shifted slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. Natasha mirrored the motion moments later, dropping a soft kiss against your temple, the warmth of their love wrapped around you, a tear slipped down your cheek. Natasha’s thumb caught it as it slipped down your cheek as she caressed your skin tenderly.

Wanda’s hum started again, low and soft, her voice carrying over the quiet of the room as she repeated the final words, almost like a lullaby:

“Please don’t cry no tears now, it’s Christmas, baby…”

And you didn’t.

[mamiobesssionfics]

The New Doctor

Rhea Ripley x Reader

Warnings: Jealousy, Smut

Request: Basically the idea in my head is the reader being like the "first aid" person, just to sanitize the small cuts and wounds, and checking that everything ok, dominik being flirty and rhea getting jealous🙈 smut+fluff?

A/N: Thank you for the request. This gave me Mignon vibes. Hope you enjoy it! 

After all those years spent in med school, you definitely didn't expect to end up here.

Working for the WWE, taking care of injured fighters, but you weren't complaining. 

You loved working with people and these people were so kind to you.

Most of the time they came in due to small injuries, cuts or small bruises.

They knew how to take care of themselves. 

Most of the time.

But when they didn't, it was you who had to patch them up. 

When you first met Rhea, the circumstances weren't the best. You only got to work when someone rushed over to you asking for help with Rhea.

Her shoulder got hurt during work out.

"What happened?" you asked her but her assistant began to answer. So, you gave him a look and said. "I believe she is a big girl and can answer for herself. Wait outside please." He left, leaving you and a very amused Rhea in the room. "So, what happened?" you asked her and she pulled her hand away from her left shoulder. 

"As I tried to hit, it was like my shoulder was stuck and when I punched it just... popped? But then I moved back so I don't think it dislocated." 

"Let me see." you stood up, leaving her sitting as you grabbed her elbow and shoulder. 

After feeling around you couldn't feel a dislocation. Then, you began to slowly move her arm but immediately stopped when she groaned. 

"I think you pulled the muscle. I didn't feel a dislocation so that's good. It will be sensitive for a couple of days, if it doesn't get better please visit a hospital."

"Thank you."

"If you want, I can check it for you tomorrow again. Feel free to come in." She smiled at you before leaving.

Leaving her perfume behind along with the way her skin felt along your fingers.

After that day, she made sure to come by your office every day.

Sometimes she would just sit there and watch you work but other times, she would talk to you.

You loved her accent and the way she talked.

So, you didn't mind her company while you worked.

You began to like her on a deeper level, more than a coworker. 

But you tried to stay professional. No matter how she made you laugh or blush.

"Ah, Dominik, come in." you waved, calling him in from the door way. 

You were with Rhea in your office when Dominik came in with a pained look. "What happened?"

"I fell and I heard my wrist... make a noise."

"Oh, how did you fell?" you asked as you washed your hand while he sat down on the examining table. 

Dominik explained how he fell while you examined his wrist and hand.

"You look beautiful today. But again, you always do, Doctor."

"Seems like you pulled your muscle here." you tried to ignore his words.

"I wouldn't mind pulling a different kind of muscle with you." you froze for a moment, your mind needed time to process what he just said.

Then your thumb pressed along his wrist and he cried out in pain.

"Keep on dreaming. Put ointment on it and it will be good in a couple of days." You handed him a bottle of the ointment before he nodded and with an acknowledgement of defeat, left your office. 

You let out a long sigh as you looked at the table in front of you, you almost forgot about Rhea.

Almost.

But soon, you felt her come up behind you as she trapped you in between her and the table. 

With your back to her, you felt your heart hammer in your chest. 

"Why is he talking to you like that?" she said. 

"I'm not interested in him. Or anyone else." you said while she moved her nose into your neck, you felt her breath on your skin.

"You are mine." she said and you were about to reply when her hand reached in between your legs. "Say it."

"I'm yours." you said without any hesitation as her hand reached into your pants and found your clit where she began her assault. 

Her lips worked on your neck and shoulder while her fingers worked their magic on your most sensitive part. You weren't sure how you are standing.

Your legs were shaking at every word she said.

"Good girl." "Are you close?" Will you come for me?"

She kept praising you.

You were so close.

"Say it again and I will let you come." 

"I'm yours." you said with a whine and she didn't lie. 

Your enitre body was shaking as you came undone. She pulled her fingers out of your pants and turned you around to face her.

She liked her fingers with a wicked smile.

"Never forget who made you cum like that." she said and simply walked out.

Leaving you a mess. 

You looked at the door Rhea just walked out of. 

"What the fuck just happened?" you asked no one in particular.

But you had a feeling deep down. A feeling that let you know this was only the beginning.

A/N: Inbox is open for all of your lovely requests!

[vermont-writes-fanfic]

Her Special Maid

Chapter 1

Request:No

Warning: Kidnapping, the girls wanna kill you at first, nothing else tbh

Characters:Alcina Dimitrescu, Villager!Y/N

A/N: This has been giving me a little trouble but I believe it’s ready! I hope you all enjoy and I apologise for the weird cut off 😅

Directory: Prologue, Chapter 1 (You are here)

The warmth seeps through your clothes and into your bones on long the chill of mid winter right out of your body, the houses in the village are never able to be this warm no matter how high the fires roar.

“Who is this?”

“What are you doing in here?”

“You’re pretty~”

Three disembodied voices echo out in the large foyer and as you look around you see nothing and no one. That is, until a mass of flies tumble down the stairs and splits into three smaller masses, and surround you in a swirl of buzzing insects.

“It doesn’t matter if she’s pretty, she's uninvited.”

“What does she have in her hands?”

“Give it here!”

Your arms are tightly wrapped around the box, eyes wide in fear and confusion at how a mass of flies is talking at all. The feeling of hands prodding at your body and pulling at your shoddy cloak makes you flinch and step back,a sharp push lands you on your bottom but you have no time to react as you are pulled by your cloak. You slide across the floor being slammed into walls and tables, the only thing you can do to minimize the bruising is to curl up and wait for the world to stop moving. Finally, you come to a halt in an even warmer room, in the centre is a large chair by a wooden table and a fireplace, one that rages so large you think if it was in the bakery it would burn the building down. In the chair, sits a woman with pale skin, dark curled hair, a large wide brimmed hat, and a slightly off-white dress. She doesn’t strike you as odd until you realise how tall she is not only in comparison to the girls that this mass of flies had turned into, but to yourself.

“Mother, I bring you a trespasser.”

“We caught her snooping around in the foyer,”

“She’s a thief Mother! Look what she has in her arms!”

From the point on the floor, you can see a cloud of smoke puff into the air in front of the woman before dispersing. She sets down something on the table before speaking in an elegant voice.

“Very well done daughters,” She says as she stands, her tall form easily towering over you and her daughters. As her golden eyes land on your form they widen and her scarlet lips pull into a smile.

“Oh? Let her up.”

Doing as they are told, the hold on your arms is let down and you quickly sit up straight still cradling the box in your arms.

Her glowing eyes capture your attention for a moment rendering you unable to look away from their intense gaze. When you come to your senses, you quickly bow your head, heart pounding in your chest at the realisation of who exactly you were just staring into the eyes of. This is one of the four lords appointed by Mother Miranda,your mother told you this is where she lived but the reality of the situation you are in catches up with you like a slap to the face. You entered the home of a Lord uninvited, in possession of something that belongs to said Lord and then had the audacity to stare into her eyes and gaze upon her form. Your heart beats ever quicker in your chest as your breathing becomes ragged, the feeling of the silver pegs of the box as they dig into your chest anchors you. If you weren’t holding the box so close to you, your hands and arms would be shaking with nerves. The sound of her authoritative voice snaps you out of the stupor of fear you were in.

“Stand up girl,”

Doing as you were commanded, you use one arm to lift yourself up onto shaking legs and properly bow your head to her, eyes fixated on the tips of your boots which peek out from under your dress.

“Look at me when I am speaking to you.”

With a small amount of fear you slowly look up to her, golden eyes locking with yours as she speaks. The air of her authority, her power of overwhelming and enchanting all at once as she looks down at you.

“Who are you, and why have you entered my home uninvited?” She questions you, taking a sip of wine from her glass.

“I-I’m the baker's daughter from the village, I found this box and The Duke s-said it belonged to you.” You hold out the box as you speak, hands shaking slightly as you hold it up to her taller figure.

Her eyes leave yours for a split second as she takes the box. She has been looking for it for a week, assuming her brother stole it to get back at her for something she said to the incompetent fool.|| As her gaze drifts form your own, you find that you can breath a little easier, your chest rising and falling as you attempt to slow your rapid heart rate.

“Where did you find this?”

“In the snow, on the way b-back from the mill. I-I only found it today on my walk, it must’ve been buried in the snow.” You respond, stumbling over your words every now and then as the three girls around you gaze at your form with a predatory gaze. They remind you of hungry wolves stalking their prey from a dim treeline.

“And you thought to bring it here, knowing who lives here?”

You can only manage to nod your head, her tone almost condescending as she questions you. What else could you say? You knew that it was dangerous to come here of all places, even if it did belong to her. You then entered uninvited only because the door opened, and for all she knows you could have stolen it some how. The look on her face as she looks down to you again says it all: Are you brave or just foolish?

“What will you do with her mother?” The girl with brunette hair asks, walking forward a little.

“Let us hunt her, she will make a fine addition to my canvas!” The blonde spins her sickle in her palm, the blade smeared and layered in the blood of too many to count.

“No! She’s too pretty for that mother, let me keep her!” The last daughter says, her red hair draped over her shoulders a fiery contrast to the brown and crimson staining her cheeks and lips.

They spoke as if you weren’t in the room and you can’t help but shrink back as they fight like starving animals over who would get to do what with you. When you watch closer though, you can’t help but think of how they remind you of your own siblings hungry for your mother and fathers attention whenever they could get it. Despite your situation the scene brings a smile to your face, though it is all but snatched away from you when the woman silences her daughters with a single call, and relays her decision.

“Daughters. This young maiden is a guest in our home and has done me a great favour, we don’t feast on our guests. You are the bakers daughter, yes?”

“Y-yes ma’am,” The words leave your mouth quickly, afraid that if you keep her waiting to long she might change her mind.

“Girls, clean yourselves up. We will be keepin her as a guest for this evening. Do you enjoy tea?”

An amused smile pulls at her lips as she watches your eyes widen and your head tilt ever so slightly to the side in visible confusion. Only moments ago you where about to be killed or worse, and now she is treating you like a revered guest of honour. You watch as she sets the box down on a tall dresser next to another one similar, but clearly newer made.

“Tea?” All you can do is echo the last word of the question, the disbelief not quite shaken from you yet.

“Yes, or perhaps you would prefer coffee?”

“N-no ma’am, tea is perfectly fine, thank you.”

Now that you have shaken out of your stupor you answer her quickly, you’d never been fond of coffee. You liked the smell but drinking it makes you anxious and tired all at the same time, you’re father and eldest sister seemed to be addicted to it. She walks past your still shaking form and opens a door bending down under it’s frame to exit.

“Come.” It’s a single command that has you tripping over your feet to follow behind the larger woman. You are lwad down a series of hallways before you enter a decent sized room with a hearty fire in the fire place, two couches facing eachother, a table in the centre, a piano off to the side and several other furnishings throughout the room. She gestures to a seat across from where she seems to be heading and she pulls on a little string.

As you sit down, you realise that once again you are in the presence of the Lady Dimistrecu, in her home where young ladies are said to be taken and never seen again. You feel her gaze land heavy on your body once more and can’t help how your cheeks begin to flush under such an intense gaze. It’s as if she is sizing you up in some manner, those golden iris’ mapping out your every detail. Suddenly you are very aware of how messy you must look, you had come in from the winter cold and been dragged around before seeing someone of such high power. Your cloak is covered in dirt and flour from using it as an apron back at the bakery. Your face has bits of flour and the white powder somehow landed in your hair, the messy bun nearly falling out now after having been slung into walls and drug across stairs and halls. Summoning what little courage you have left after the series of events, you speak up.

“Ma’am, may I be excused to the lavatory?”

“You may, I will have Daniella take you,” The moment she says this, the girl with the red hair appears and eagerly takes your hand pulling you out of the room.

“What’s it like being the bakers daughter? Have you met any cute manthings in the village? What are Uncle Heisenberg’s lycans like when hunting?”

The entire walk to the restroom she asks you question after question like an eager child. She must be the youngest of the three, the way she was acts reminds you of your own little sister who has been at school for the winter, most of it anyway. Tomorrow she is going to come back for a short break, when the blizzards are to happen and snow people in. Your brother will be starting next year, he is sure to be a menace if he isn;t interested in what they are teaching him. Ever since he was 4 you’d been homeschooling him and teaching him how to speak and use his manners. Because of you he is one of the msartes children of his age in the village, not that there is much competition between 4 year olds to begin with.

“Here you are! Don’t take too long or mother might send Cass to get you!” Daniella’s cheery voice snaps you out of your thoughts as she stops infront of a door.

“Ah, thank you…I will do my best not to take too long.” You enter the bathroom and stand infront of the mirror and begin to right your appearance. You start with taking off your cloak, you lay it across the sink and beat off the flour and sugar the best you can making it look a little more presentable. After doing the same to your pants and your shirt, you use a small bit toilet tissue to wipe the flour off of your face before wetting your hands and slicking your messay hair back into a neat tight bun. The ribbon you use is worn and has seen better days, but is all you have for the moment and so you will need to make due with what you have. Giving yourself a once over in the mirror you crack a small smile, it’s not easy cleaning up the look of a baker with just water and some cloth but you did well. You wrap your cloak around you waist before finally turning to leave. As you walk out the door you nearly collide with the brunette from earlier, quickly you bow your head in apology only to be met with a single question.

“Why do you smell like honey cakes?

End Note: This was a little on the back burner because I’ve been planning other writing but I hope you all enjoy!

Total Words Count: 2,255

[auburnstargazer]

Not Strong Enough by auburnstargazer

In the aftermath of a failed revenge quest, Ellie condemns herself to a life of solitude. But when she gets word from Jackson that Tommy is dying, she knows she must make the long trek across the country to say her final goodbyes. Returning home proves more difficult than she anticipated. The people of Jackson revile her. Dina, Ellie’s lost love, cannot meet her in the eyes. Joel haunts every street corner, plaguing Ellie's every thought. She is a stranger in the only place she ever called home. In order to rekindle her relationship with Dina and rebuild her family, Ellie must learn to face her grief head on or risk losing everything for good.

Complete on Ao3!

[wandasmistress]

Revelations and Reprimands

Synopsis- Wanda overhears the conversation you have with Tommy and Billy when you think she isn't around, she is not pleased one bit when hears what you utter.

Pairings- Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Warnings- Bad parenting (?)

Word Count- 3k

A/N- Gonna post this then dip for a few months. To my followers tho, stay super freaky, have great vagina, I love yaa!!

➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

The rays of sun up above were beating down on your exposed neck like an insistent hot skillet clad onto your back, the sweat glistened on your body making you look like a sizzling hot dog amongst the raging flames on a grill. The heat is the reason why you were only in a white tank top paired with old basketball shorts that have garnered numerous paint stains from moving into your current home a few years ago.

The blaring heat also being the cause for Tommy and Billy to be doused in layers of sunscreen as they protested against Wanda who was stern with them that she didn't want them to get sunburnt, making it her mission to lather every inch of their exposed skin.

As Wanda looked out the window she couldn't help but smile at the sight she had trouble keeping her eyes off of as she prepared a grand lunch for you and the boys. 

She was positioned in front of the sink washing the freshly picked strawberries from her very own garden that she took much pride in bragging about at PTA meetings and in her gardening Facebook group. Constantly glancing out the window to see your crouched form near the sliding back door, spray bottle in hand as you portrayed a concentrated demeanor coupled with Billy and Tommy’s kidlike shouts as they played on the swings with huge toothless smiles that made her heart spin thousands of times over. 

The cold water running down her fingers as she rubbed the ripe berries was a stark contrast to the heat berating you, but not more annoying than the bugs that sought to unionize in various places in your home. Pain from a stiff back and exhausting heat outweighed waking up at three am with a certain someone ripping all the sheets from the bed swearing to have seen a colony of ants congregating by her pillowside. Coupled with the constant excuses Tommy and Billy gave during dinner time, claiming there were tiny critters crawling around in their greens which was a clear lie, although the slight tensing of Wanda’s jaw showed her irritation.

Deciding to multitask with your outside chores, a large white garbage bag is stationed next to your figure, stuffed with various weeds that you had previously pulled from the ground. Now was the perfect opportunity to get this done so Wanda was no longer on your ass, complaining about how the weeds made her garden look messy. You, never being able to say no to her, made the decision for the chores to be completed sooner than later a reality.

Just as you set down the bug repellent to yank a dwindling mini weed, out of the corner of your eye you catch a literal settlement of small and big ants scurrying in a single file line. Your hand already grabbing the spray bottle as you didn’t hesitate to hose down the small colony. Eyes scrunched as you watched the ants scatter and disassemble.

What you failed to notice was Billy’s approaching figure with a quizzical look etched onto his juvenile face. As he came up from behind you with a question on the tip of his tongue Tommy rushed from behind, trying to get him to come back to the swings.

“C'mon Billy, one more round on the swings then we can have a slide race!” Tommy gasped out, his features exuding pure happiness as he attempted to tug his brother along. How he wasn’t breathless from running that long distance to where Billy was standing was something that stuck to the back of your mind.

But Billy was too focused on what you were doing, Tommy’s uproar of a claim already catching your attention and making you aware of their presence, your head twisting in their direction with a smirk represented on your face.

Just then Tommy let out a small squeal at the putrid smell that had just entered his nostril, his small hands coming to cover his nose swiftly.

“Don’t be such a baby, Tommy, it’s just bug repellent. Look mama’s using it to kill the bugs.” Billy stated with a smug smile on his face, knowing that statement would trigger him in some way because Tommy loved to claim he knew everything using the fact that he was older to support that idea. 

The smile on your lips broadens at the banter going on between the prepubescent boys that had started to occur after Billy’s words. “Hey, maybe you guys should take your talk over there. Your mom would kill me if she knew I had you guys over her next to these heavy chemicals.” You remarked as you pointed your gloved finger towards the play set with raised eyebrows.

But that idea was quickly cut off when Billy pointed his stubby pointer finger in the direction of the ground, your gaze turning to yet another wave of ants. You motioned for the boys to move back as you release another wave of chemical death toward the pests. A fresh wave of wind shifted some of the rancid mist in the direction of the boys. Billy’s face scrunched up in disgust while Tommy had let out a mantra of words that you’d never thought you hear come from his mouth in all his youthful glory.

“Holy shit! That stinks.”

An automatic laugh escaped from your mouth before you could really process the situation, Billy’s laughter not helping you reel in your initial shock to chastise Tommy. You blow out some air from your mouth before you try to act like an adult and reprimand him for his language. But the sight of Billy with his hands on his head and huge toothless beam made the thought of telling the kid who stood in anxiousness off. 

“Mama, why are you killing the bugs if they are outside?” Tommy asks in a haze of innocence.

You bite down on your bottom lip trying to find a reasonable answer to tell the young children, “These bugs tend to get inside no matter how hard I try to block them from the inside, you guys aren’t leaving the windows open when you’re not supposed to right?” You add at the end that gets some playful laughter out of the boys. Billy and Tommy chuckle as they grab their bellies, shaking their heads in the negative.

Their cheery laughter makes you look back towards them and question their honesty as you raise your eyebrows with a knowingly look in their direction, the only expression each of them gives is an expression with wide eyes and pressed lips, a look that you have known well when confronting them about their naughtiness. 

You exert a low chuckle at their mischievous behavior, “Don’t tell your mommy I said this but I think it’s her, she’s always leaving them open in our room and in the kitchen.” Silly beams were planted on their faces as they listened closely to your words.

You motioned them closer with your fingers, trying to create more distance from where you guys were huddled and the window you could see Wanda from, who was occupied with her back turned in the kitchen, “Hey listen, when I was in the backyard one day I could hear her singing in our room from all the way down here. Definitely better than Auntie Agatha’s.” 

Loud chuckles are released from their small lungs, the boys go into an uncontrollable fit of laughter when you mentioned Agatha’s not-so-enjoyable singing that she had no problem sharing when she came over every other weekend.

While the boys are coming down from their laughing fit you are quick to spray a spider web that has made its way awfully close to a window that was unsurprisingly cracked open. 

“These damn spiders keep coming back, so I thought if I kill their family they won’t feel at home here anymore. No more children to practice teaching how to spin a web with, and no more momma for them to find pleasure with.” You unconsciously spit out, whispering the last part under your breath. Forgetting the presence of your kids and their innocent minds for a split second, when you do there is a slight freeze in your motions afterward, but what’s the harm if Wanda isn’t around to hear it?

Unfortunately, Wanda had heard every word of that sentence. What you failed to realize was her presence leaning on the threshold of the backyard door. During the time you had been talking to Tommy and Billy, she had fully set up the outside table for the lunch she had completed, only staying to watch you three with a bright smile on her face when she heard the gracious laughter of her godsent boys.

A warm style remained on her face as she watched the sight of you three naturally conversing, but that snug smile quickly vanished from her face the second she heard that far-fetched sentence spoken into existence by you. A cloud of hurt waved over her just elated demeanor, as you told the story about killing the spiders family so it would no longer find your house a home and stay, it hit her close to home in the chest making her hug her stomach as a slight storm brewed within her.

A second before she was about to interrupt the laughter coming from the boys she witnessed something she wouldn’t have thought to occur for years, that specific something coming from her ten-year-old boys. She witnessed Billy and Tommy turning towards each other to exchange whispers with one another, fear and apprehension laced Billy’s face as Tommy had a poised expression. After their whispers, they nodded their heads toward one another and looked your way with that mischievous look they tended to hold when they were about to commit an indecent act.

“Fuck that spider's family.” Tommy voiced brazenly, his and Billy’s eyes gauging your reaction. Waiting to see if you would berate them like Wanda would have if she heard those words come from their mouths. After all, between their two parents, you were definitely the more laid-back one who let more things slide when you shouldn’t.

Wanda’s blood began to simmer at the lack of your reaction, her head tilting to the right as her jaw slightly clenched. Her infuriation rose to an all-time high when you turned around with a smirk on your face and uttered a string of words that managed to turn her evening completely upside down.

“That’s right, fuck their families.” The two giddy children broke into another fit of laughter at your lack of care for what the older twin had spewed moments ago and your response. All the laughter in the next moment immediately stopped with brief words coupled with a tone so daunting all the color drained from you and the two youngsters' faces.

“Thomas. William. Wash your hands.” Her tone was eerily calm as her eyes remained on your frozen figure and nowhere else. The boys quickly looked in her direction while avoiding eye contact, scurrying past her so she couldn’t scold them even for a second. When the boys were out of eyesight her gaze rested on you coldly, your eyes aimed towards the patio as your teeth kept your lower lip interlocked and your thoughts running rampant on all the possibilities of Wanda giving you a much-needed earful. 

Now Wanda knew where the trait of avoiding eye contact when in deep trouble came from which was deeply rooted in the boys. Being shaken out of her thoughts as your figure ascended into a standing position, your eyes finally met her. Wanda still held an appalled look, her eyes staring deadly into yours. A small whimper was released from your parted lips at her chilling glare. You don’t know how much she heard and you didn’t want to know, the thought of the unknown not bothering you in the slightest.

Putting down the bug killer and plopping your dirty garden gloves next to the canister, you make your way over to Wanda’s intimidating figure. A big lump in your throat prevents you from emitting coherent words from your mouth, you stand in front of Wanda, your ability to talk has suddenly disappeared and now you are looking foolish.

Although it doesn't show on your face your heart is thumping so hard like a sledgehammer is consistently pounding on your heart due to the panic coursing through your bones. Wanda’s silence coupled with her intense stare starts to move some gears inside of you that aren’t so appropriate for this situation. With your thoughts being loud, also before you can knock those thoughts out of your head she helps you, “Y/n.”

You stutter with a mixture of fear and nervousness from her intense gaze, “Ok, my bad. You know when you look at me like that it ju-” 

But she is quick to cut you off, not wanting you to deter the conversation from its true purpose, “Don’t.”

That instant you shut up and keep your lips sealed, shaking your head as a fidgety gesture. Her tone assures you of the wrath that is about to come, and rightfully so. Her hands are still crossed as she starts raining down her thoughts of pure discontent with your actions toward allowing the boys to behave that way without a scolding.

Billy and Tommy have neglected to actually go and wash their hands for lunch, instead peaking around the kitchen counter to witness Wanda uncrossing her arms, gesturing frantically with her arms. Your face is filled with regret as you shake your head after every word she says, not daring to utter a single word.

The children watch from beyond with wide eyes and stunned faces, Wanda’s voice starting to rise slightly as you fail to respond to any of the questions she asked. Tommy turns around to Billy with a worried expression, “Does this mean they are gonna divorce?” He whispered, his small body filled with too much unease. 

Billy looks over with a frightened look. “No Tommy, they can’t. When people love each other they can never stop, mommy and mama included.”

Tommy wasn’t at all relieved at Billy’s statement, his worry growing tenfolds at possibly being the cause of his parents leaving each other because of his actions. The boys turned back towards their bickering parents the second they heard your voice that had been radio silent for the past minutes.

“I know baby, I was joking. I promise you I didn’t mean any of it.” You tried to convey to her, knowing her history, internally punching yourself over and over again for even mentioning that earlier sentence. Your hands slowly approach her wrists to provide her some comfort.

She is quick to swat your approaching hands away as her blood is still boiling, her eyebrows scrunching in exasperation, “Don’t baby me right now. You shouldn’t be telling our children stories about killing a bug's family and then proceeding to laugh about it.” She states in such vigor you internally agree to shut the fuck up for the time being, “I don’t give a fuck if you were joking, Y/n, never do that shit again.” She delivers in a tone of finality, her head tilt returning again.

You shake your head in silent agreement, accepting the fact that you fucked up and need to do better. As you look away from Wanda’s piercing evergreen eyes you catch sight of Tommy and Billy peaking at you two from the kitchen, your eyebrows rising in surprise which causes Wanda to turn around and catch sight of them too.

Wanda lets out a strained sigh, pressing her palm against her forehead, not wanting Billy and Tommy to see their parents arguing has gone completely out of the window. Rubbing the creases on her forehead away before she makes eye contact with both of the boys.

Increasing the pitch of her voice she says, “I didn’t know you guys were there sorry, don’t be like your mommy, both of us.” Turning to give you a disturbing glare.

“How comes we can’t say it but you can? “Tommy suddenly implored with bunched eyebrows.

Wanda releases a quick breath in disbelief, shaking her head at the sudden gall he had to ask her such a question, “Because first of all I am an adult, but most importantly your mother.” Her previous high pitch voice was gone.

She thought she had finally cracked the audacity that spawned in the twins today but was taken aback when the next moment they turned their heads whispering to one another then snickering, Billy shoving Tommy’s shoulder with wide eyes, albeit still giggling. You stood where you were, with no intention of getting scolded again or going in between the wrath of Wanda and her parenting. 

Wanda tells them to share what they want to hide so badly, causing Billy to immediately stop his laughter and look like a dear caught in headlights, his eyes looking over to you for a semblance of help that you were afraid to even think about giving, fearful of Wanda’s deathly gaze adorning you again.

Tommy like the brave soul he has consistently appeared to be this evening had no problem telling Wanda what he was just whispering in his twin's ear, “Since that spider's family is dead now they don’t have a momma to pleasure…that it should come find you like Mama said earlier.” He ends with a finger pointing in your direction, practically slapping you while he is at it.

Fuck. Your facial features, body, breathing, and hell even heart stopped for those unsettling few seconds of silence, no one dared move as the tension was almost visible. Your eyes glued onto Wanda’s figure, her body unmoving, but damn was her mind was whirling with a million thoughts swimming words she rather the boys not hear at their young age. 

Your blood runs ice cold as you see Wanda slowly turn her head back in your direction. Her facial features are void of emotion as she deeply stares into your soul. You kept eye contact with her, afraid to even move a single muscle after she waved the twins away to their rooms. And once you saw her head tilt to the right you swear you saw a flash of heavens gates, at least this wouldn’t be the worst way to go out, staring into the eyes of your beloved wife who would be putting you there.

“Y/n!”

Oh shit. Yes oh shit indeed.

»

[devnmon]

by the lantern light.

Summary: Pining for your bounty partner is manageable most times, but it becomes extremely difficult when the hotel screws up your room choice and you're forced to share a bed.

warnings: smut, fingering, some oral (r!receiving), a cutesy love confession too & a tiny bit of angst

wc: 4.4k

Another long day of riding from West Elizabeth to Annesburg and back had come to pass. An Era of outlaws and gunslingers had come to a close, while Sadie Adler found herself a successfully skilled bounty hunter.

Everything ached; your legs, your back, your heart for the woman you called the other half of your bounty hunting duo.

Sadie Adler continued to be the one constant in a world that showed you anything similar to it. A sickening love for her had grown with it, overtaking you to no end.

In turn, the day was finished with more than enough pay to last you both a while. To treat yourselves, Sadie suggested a night of hearty meals and the nicest rooms in the local town.

Add a bath to your expenses for the sole purpose of relaxation and hot water, your night was simply made.

Your boots were giving you countless blisters, and your thighs ached just standing upright.

Remind me never to suggest this many jobs in one day again...

Her low chuckle at the words you murmured while entering the hotel was almost enough to let her have a chance at the bath before you. But she took one look at you and basically ordered you to get in immediately.

Something about how she bossed you around, enjoying the way it made you feel wanted—no, needed, by her.

In her defense, you looked like shit.

For the meantime, you were to clean yourself while she ran a couple errands in town after booking the room. Most times, you had to pay extra for a specific room with two beds, lest society began to wonder if you were sharing the same bed.

Each muscle ached a bit more trudging up the hotel's steps, spurs clinking with each slow movement.

Shoving the bath's door closed was your next action, followed by peeling each and every item of clothing off of you for the time being.

While the tub filled, your mind floated back to the way Sadie had praised you earlier that day. Her drawl made your knees weak without fail, the thickest you've ever heard but no one else's you would listen to every day.

There you go, you got it... Nice job, honey.

Sunflower colored strands of her hair always remained neatly pulled back in that familiar loose braid of hers, wondering what you lengths you would go to for just a chance at running your fingers through it.

Your palms sweat around her just thinking about it. Other times about how you might look in one of her shirts, aroma of orchids and vanilla intertwined in the fabric.

With the first dip of your body into the steaming water, the outside world ceased to exist in that moment. Goosebumps flooded your skin and pricked up those little hairs along your body.

Upon the lack of sleep you'd received the night before, the warm water had you ready to nod off and rest your eyes. All you wanted to do was stay submerged in the clean water and dream of a certain blonde woman.

Your whole body ached for her; the warmth in her presence, the way she called your name, joked around with you, put every part of her trust in you on jobs. Your heart had held a special place for her ever since the day you two met.

Dreams of yours mainly consisted of her figure, putting you in not-so-safe-for-work positions that arose many confusing feelings in you.

Once the word love crossed your mind regarding her, there was no other way for you to see her. But in that golden light right before dusk and how she smiled when you genuinely made her laugh.

If there was a future for you out there, Sadie was painted in along with all the images you envisioned.

No matter how much being in her presence sparked a flame inside you, there wasn't enough evidence in the world to speak how you felt.

Just the deep thrum of heat flowing from the true center of your body, suffocating you in desire. Your skin under the water managed to be more sensitive, reminding you of the gentle but calloused hands of your partner.

Ease in her touches that had patched you up multiple times had been ingrained into your memory.

Ignoring the heat between your legs to clean your body, you tightened your thighs together in attempt to suppress it.

Sooner than later, a knock at the door pulled you from your daydream and alerted you of how cool the bath water had become. That familiar feminine drawl called out from the other side.

"Y'done in there yet? Our room's 'bout ready an' my feet're killin' me."

Shit.

Having to face the woman you were just daydreaming about— there were more things you'd rather do. She won't notice the blush on your cheeks because the room was hot from the steam. Right?

"Oh- yeah! Just gimme a minute."

Clothes returned to your back, clutching your gun belt and satchel in hand while your boots clicked on the floor once again. Upon opening the door, Sadie stood against the nearby wall, sighing when she noted your refreshed state.

"Well don't you look purdy." She smirked, dragging her eyes up and down your figure, impressed you actually listened to her.

Her comment was met with a roll of your eyes, walking past her and further down the hallway. Because of course you listened to her, you would walk into hell itself if it was what she wanted.

"Hey, it's room 2A, should be unlocked already." she called out to you, giving her a thumbs up wordlessly without turning back to face her.

Your eyes coasted along the wooden walls, finding the door unlocked like Sadie had said.

What she wasn't aware of was the lack of two beds and presence of one. Only one bed possessed this godforsaken room, and somehow that was seeming to be the last straw for you today.

There had to be some mistake, you were sure the hotel's clerk took bribes for preferred rooms. It had worked in the past, why was now the time for that to get thrown out the window?

You couldn't sleep in the same bed as her. You were sure you wouldn’t survive.

You always knew she wouldn't see you as anything more than her best friend and bounty partner. Which should've been enough. It should've been enough to satisfy you in this life. Lucky enough to even be graced with her presence on a day to day basis.

Not many men in this world could say this woman would even look twice in their direction.

But the sickening feeling when she pulled you close in the cold or when she gave you the last of her food. Those moments were when you wanted to break the silence and pull her lips to yours.

Organizing your things around the room was how you passed the time before Sadie eventually came knocking at the door.

One creak of the door opening was enough for her to realize exactly how she'd fucked up.

"What the hell? I could've sworn I paid that jackass at the front desk enough to get us the exact room I specifically requested! I should kick his ass—"

As much as you'd pay to see her cuss out the clerk at the front desk, the two of you couldn't handle all the attention it would bring. When Sadie doesn't get what she asked for, it was never long before hands were thrown.

"No—" you sighed, "we can't afford gettin' kicked out, Sadie. My back cannot take another night on the ground."

"Well, yer right," she drawled, "You ain't gon' make it five feet out them doors before needin' a lie down. Plus, we're both beat."

She took a quick look around the room, then placed her things down on the opposite wall.

"I think we can tough it just one night. Whatchu think?"

Truth be told, you were much too drained to argue or find another reason to protest the situation any longer.

When your figure hit the mattress, feet free of the cowboy boot leather, the comfort of soft sheets was enough to lull you off into a deep sleep.

Though your subconscious dug deep into the layers of your mind, unearthing the most filthy words in Sadie's beckoning voice.

You have no idea how much I want you right now... as her hands pin your wrists to a wall.

God, you look amazing like this, while you're perched kneeling between her thighs.

You're a needy girl, aren't you? Tell me what you want... the minute she gets you undressed.

Her closeness has you sweating and your body is on fire. She reaches for your waist, hands eager and steady; that is, before the vision fades and your eyes jolt open to the low lit room.

Gasping slightly, you're frozen in place upon waking from sleep. Stuck sleeping in a bed with the woman that embodied your dreams just a moment ago.

Quiet breaths filled the room, another reminder you were in such a situation that there was nothing you could do. About these overwhelming sensations, the feelings you bared, an urge to take care of how turned on those dreams had made you.

This situation was beyond impossible to weasel your way out of. Sleeping on the ground was terrible, but at least you could sneak away silently; any slight move or sound could wake her on this mattress.

Though you attempted to drift back off into sleep, your overactive thoughts of Sadie intensified.

How long would it take to kiss every inch of her body?

Which spots would be more sensitive to your touch?

Your eyes shot open again, void of any fatigue you felt a couple hours earlier. Only thing inhabiting you now was the heat radiating from under the covers. Sadie's body heat next to you on the bed contributed to the raised temperature, but you could tell that wasn't the only heat you felt.

Not only were you drenched in sweat, but the overwhelming heat painting your body radiated from between your legs. Aching something awful the second you squeezed your thighs together.

Having to share a bed with her was anxiety inducing enough— add the effect of seeing her laid out for you perfectly behind your eyelids, and you felt helpless to do anything.

Attempting to fall back asleep was out of the question as well, seeing as those thoughts of her positioned so nicely for you lingered distastefully. It just had to be the night you couldn't keep your mind off her that she lay the closest she's ever been to you.

The more you attempted to avoid what was keeping you awake, the more your cunt throbbed and begged to be touched.

At this point you'd become desperate, wanting to be relaxed so bad that the idea was more appealing now than it was five minutes ago.

Anything for you to rest again.

Very delicately, one of your hands moved to slide down the front of your underwear. You were betting on the fact that Sadie was exhausted that night and wouldn't be woken by the slightest movements.

Just as your fingers snuck past the waistband, the woman beside you shuffled slightly. Your movements halted until you were sure she didn't wake easier than you thought. Upon the lack of evidence afterwards, you decided to continue and reach down between your legs.

It was almost surprising how soaked you were upon running your finger over your cunt, holding back a whimper when just the pad ran over your clit. You were clenching around nothing just from it, tempted to go further but knowing someone could hear you.

God— fuck it, right?

Damn Sadie Adler with her hickory colored eyes and sweet southern drawl, with those nimble hands and steady thighs and proportions that could make a grown woman cry—

Pushing two fingers between your folds tests you more than anything in the moment, with filthy sounds threatening to break loose.

Why oh why couldn't you two just have gotten separate rooms like you wanted? What possessed her to make you share a room with her all the time?

A pad of your finger swiped up to your clit, circling ever so slowly and with feather light touches.

What would she think if she caught me? Would she punish me? Or make me worship her to no end?

Either way, you were fucked in the head for thinking any of it.

That cunt of yours throbbed to no end, worsening by the second you begun touching yourself again. Light circles turned to adding more pressure and steadying your breath with each pass of your fingers.

Your body ached for her touch, picturing the image of her above you with those hands of hers outreached for you. It was erotic enough to make you whimper in the silent dark of the hotel room.

"Fuck..." you muttered under your breath.

Wet sounds began to fill the room once your fingers pushed inside your entrance.

Now you were really moving slow, pressing both digits inside just to curl them at the perfect spot that sent your thighs tightening again.

Her sweet saccharine southern drawl was the closest thing to euphoria you'd imagined. Putting the words in your mind to her voice- you were exploding on the inside from imagining it.

To sit at the mountain peak of her thighs and give her everything you had... to have her call out your name out of any others in the world. It was enough to make you—

Oh, Sadie...

Too focused on keeping her image clear in your head, you’d missed the additional shuffling next to you. Eyes squeezed so tight, your blood pumping in your ears was all you could hear.

Any time she filled your mind, the images were always of her splayed out any way your brain could fathom...

One of her completely naked on a couch, another where she's towering over your body, thrusting her hips against yours; one more of her face shoved between your thighs while your fingers ran through her blonde strands, her tongue slowly inching through--

"Havin' trouble over there?"

A raspy voice called out through the dark, belonging to none other than the woman you were fantasizing about to no end.

In a fraction of a second, you were frozen in place... as if you would be any less caught than you were in that moment. Your hand shot out from between your legs faster than light on impulse.

As if doing cartwheels, your stomach dropped over and over again, while you were in the midst of surveying what to do.

Take it on the chin? Face her? Tell her everything you'd been thinking about? Absolutely all of it? None of it?

Before you could even get a chance to realize how fucked you were, she'd switched on her lantern light and sat up on the bed.

"If you needed some stress relief, all you had to do was ask'." Her low drawl rings out in the warm light, blonde hair covering her back as you peek over at her.

Sitting up nervously, you turned to face her, eyes overwhelmed with regret and uncertainty. Guilt had overridden you on another level, not knowing how she'd react to— wait, did she just say...?

"When they told me I could change our room, I decided against it... to see what would happen. To see if my suspicions were right all along."

"You did this...? Why--" you started, meeting her brown eyes for the first time all night.

"Cause I... could tell how you felt. For a while now. Just... didn't know how I felt. Took me some time to. But now I do." she drawled, a look of understanding meeting yours.

"And now?"

Surprisingly, the heat level in your cheeks settled some when she scooched closer to you on the mattress.

"Just... let me try somethin'."

Not only does one of her hands land on top of yours, but cups your cheek with the other and began to lean in to you.

Every atom in your body screamed out for her, similar to the way a firework sparked a bit before its shot into the sky.

Once her lips finally pressed to yours, every moment you shared together flashed through your head. Almost like a vision aligning, where you could see every day she kept you around wasn't just for convenience. Each time she had your back in life, through fights and drunken nights, was because she cared only for you.

Instantly you forgot how to breathe, only wanting to savor the burn of her pillow-esque lips against yours for the rest of eternity.

But when she pulled away, the breath you were holding became overwhelming and caused you to gasp for air.

"Sadie... I-"

"No, I know. I know, honey. But it's the middle of the night, we can't afford to lose any more sleep talkin' about this. We already ain't had enough of that." she chuckled, intertwining her fingers with yours.

"Kiss me again, please..."

Of course she would indulged you over and over, spending minutes frozen in time and trapped in the loving embrace her lips were giving yours. Somehow it was even more perfect than in your dreams.

Wordlessly, she laid you down on the bed, your hair scattering across the pillow while you continued to share the most perfect sounds she'd ever heard. Heartbeat quickening, sighs and small moans of pleasure escaping the both of you until she pulls away for a moment.

"Y'were thinkin' about me, weren't you?" One of her fingers swiped at the excess saliva on her lip from your overeager state.

Reminded of how exactly you'd gotten yourself in this situation, you nodded in confirmation and felt your cheeks pink up.

"You're the only person I would, Sade."

One of the corners of her mouth points upwards, painting a smirk on her face.

"Now what are we gon' do about that, hm?"

"Whatever you want."

Your response tumbles out a split second after her question hits the air, the apples of her cheeks brightening with a bit of a blush.

Instantly, her lips are on yours again as she's pushing you down onto the pillow's soft cover. Sadie's loose strands of hair tickle the sides of your face slightly, but the contact isn't unwelcome.

With her in an image you'd been daydreaming of for god knows how long, you thought this moment might actually be the paradise in her you were searching for.

Another gasp leaves you as her lips separate from yours to leave a trail down your jawline to your neck. Her hands resting on the mattress at your sides were gripping the comforter.

"Can I... touch you here?" Her fingers ghost over your waist, the lightest touches hovering over your skin.

"Yes... god, yes. Please touch me. All over, Sade."

Your voice is barely a whisper, plainly begging for her to run those hands down your body until she was satisfied.

Only after you'd given her the go ahead does she connect her hand to your waist, slipping her fingers under your sleep shirt ever so slightly. That overbearing heat still lingered, only burning hotter with her hands on you.

You can feel her mouth sucking a mark into your collarbone, swallowing your whimpers before she releases with a popping sound.

"Now then, let's make sure you sleep t'night. I ain't doin' this all night with your damn tossin' and turnin'."

You scoffed, because how could you be so careless? Sadie was one to know when gunfire was about to break out-- of course she knew you weren't really sleeping.

Her hands delicately lift your shirt up, fingertips painting goosebumps along your skin. When your chest came into view, you caught her licking her lips before bending down to place a kiss between the valley of your breasts.

"You're prettier than a flower in bloom. Know that?" Her lips ghost up your chest and collarbones with feather light kisses.

"Stop sweet talkin' me..." you replied breathlessly.

Without warning, she takes one of your hardened nipples into her mouth, circling her tongue around it before nipping ever so lightly.

"Shit-- don't tease me... it's been long enough," you whined, pulling a chuckle from her.

"Alright, alright." Her other hand grasped your other breast, playing with your nipple between two of her fingers.

You inhaled sharply when her other hand slipped right past the band of your bottoms and down between your legs, slapping your palm over your mouth in surprise.

"Shh, shh... gotta be quiet for me, m'kay?"

Nodding in reply, she licked her lips and pulled down your bottoms.

"Ah, there she is... my sweet girl." Her drawl had your head spinning, not even realizing her hand was traveling further down your body to push your legs open for her.

"Sadie..." you whispered, perplexed by the entire situation. You pinched your arm to make sure this wasn't a dream while you sensed her palms cupping the soft plush of your thighs.

Sadie's fingers stroke over your heat, unbeknownst to her how badly it burned and pleaded for her touch. As if she could read your mind, two of her fingers opened you up for her, vulnerability washing over you in that moment.

"Y'don't even know how whipped you got me, honey. I'd have walked into hell itself if you were the one askin'..."

God... you were lovesick.

You whimper behind your palm, practically vibrating with how much you were riled up beforehand.

Once her fingers sliver through how soaked you were, the pad of her middle finger traces circles on your most sensitive part. Sadie's eyes catch your flustered state as she continues the slow movements, moving down to your entrance while collecting your slick.

It's cruel how she barely touches your entrance before removing her fingers to taste you for herself. Your hazy eyes catch her licking your arousal off her digits before reaching down to touch you again.

"Sweetest thing I ever did taste, baby."

Please... you whisper, gripping the bed sheets tighter than you can imagine. Sadie only chuckles, before two of her fingers prod at her entrance, pushing in slowly at first. When she realizes you welcome her in with no resistance, she bites her lip and smirks.

Though your overwhelming arousal allowed for her fingers to slip in easily, it felt as if it was your first time. Thin and nimble, they were even more fulfilling than your own. It made a world of a difference not having to pleasure yourself for the first time in ages.

Men tried their best, but you knew Sadie Adler's skills would outperform all of their past attempts.

As if a reflex, your walls clench around her fingers, covering them in your arousal again, and she smiles. Her dirty blonde strands tickle your thighs as she presses a kiss to one of them, feeling you throb while pushing them back inside.

Her unused hand parts your folds for her and her thumb gently rubs your little bundle of nerves, taking pride and joy in being the one to do so.

She adores the way your eyebrows scrunch together while you attempt to remain quiet, the way your breasts sit prettily on your chest and the way your body reacts when she angles her fingers just right.

"Y're so... lucky I'm too tired to scream your name right now..." you pant, taking each tantalizing drag of her fingers with pride. Her fingers curl inside you upon hearing your words, watching you swallow another sound she feels envious to not hear in the moment.

"Sounds like heaven. Maybe when we got a little place of our own someday." Sadie leans down to press a kiss onto your heat, catching more of your slick on her lips and humming with content.

"Shut up... oh-!" You bite your hand to combat the filthy sound you want to emit, just so she can hear how intoxicated by her you've become.

"There ya go, takin' me so well..." the movements of her fingers set a steady pace inside you, observing you breathe heavily above her.

Her tongue against your heat was the closest thing to euphoria you could imagine, saturated in her lust and devotion like a god. In a split second, she hums against you and you can feel the wave of pleasure begin to build like no other type of adrenaline.

"I'm close, Sade... don't stop..." you spoke breathlessly, your entire being feeling connected to hers in that moment. Your toes curled, fingers grasped the cotton sheets until your knuckles turned white.

"Let go for me, sweetheart. Just let it all out, there ya go..." she beckoned, pressing her tongue to your clit as her fingers continued to pump inside you.

The quiet of the room was now filled with your heavy breathing, as though the entire world paused its turning for a moment, high coursing through your body.

Some of the slightest moans you'd been withholding for the sake of people in the hotel slipped past your lips like music to Sadie's ears.

As your high washed over you, she could feel you clenching rhythmically around her fingers and chuckled to herself before pulling away and crawling back up your body.

Her lips trailed kisses up your stomach and neck while your breathing steadied, the contact with your skin warm from your overwhelming orgasm.

"You're so pretty..." she breathed, "when you come for me."

Sadie kissed your cheek and dragged her hands up your body, goosebumps in your afterglow spreading like wildfire. Your hands loosened their grip on the bed sheets and wrapped around Sadie's neck loosely, welcoming each kiss she placed upon your face.

"Feel better now?" she mumbled against your ear, cupping the side of your face with her palm.

"Mhm... thank you, Sade. Feel s'much better now, love you... so much."

The lack of sleep had you delusional, barely registering anything you admitted to her now that you'd finally gotten the one thing you wanted.

"Love you too, honey. More'n you know."

Sadie lay beside you, her arms wrapped around your body to pull you in close while the both of you finally let your mutual tiredness drift you off to sleep.

[lqvenikki]

amanda young!college hcs

a/n : i might turn this into a actual series im kind of getting into it

college!amanda young x reader (romantic)

warnings : mentions of drugs and alcohol

type : headcannons

words : 201

her blasting her music in your room all the time

finding joints and beer cans on the floor and stuffed in her drawers and under the floorboards

having to clean everything away before dorm inspectors come

her sleeping in your bed when your at your friends house because its more 'comfy'

its really cause it smells like you and the perfume you always spray

her wrapping her arms around your waist tightly and burying her head in your hair whilst your sitting at your desk

her being protective over you when you go to parties and you get hit on

having to calm her down after and you eventually go home

always having to get her out of fights

'mandy you can't go around hitting people!'

     'well he said something about you'

getting an apartment together after your first year

she woke up early once and tried to make pancakes for you and ended up setting the fire alarm off

you both ended up having leftover take out for breakfast instead

your giving your all to her and her giving her all to you

people may criticise you for going out with the loner stoner girl but you've never regretted it

[chryssikyu]

Princely MC

Description: What happens when a normal girl meets a beautiful female ikeman?

Pairing: MC × Reader

——————————————————————————

It's a beautiful day! Calm sun rays, gentle breeze, not too hot, not too cold. Perfect weather for a perfect day right?

Yeah- no.

You don't have time to revel in the nice weather as you run through the park. You had woken up late, had no time to shower or apply any makeup, and you were getting texts from your boss asking when you were coming in.

So yeah, not a great start to the morning, but hey! What else could go wrong?

I'll tell you what else; a couple of kids playing soccer.

Or more specifically, a couple of kids playing soccer, and one kicking the ball a little too hard. Causing it to come flying at you. As you watch it falling towards you, you freeze waiting for the impact and pain.

Maybe you could use it as an excuse to get out of work?

Right before it can hit you though, a figure obscures your vision, a long leg flies up and kicks the ball away.

Once your life is no longer in mortal danger, the figure turns around, exposing a young woman with long brown hair, and pretty brown eyes.

You froze as she peered down at you, she was only a little taller, but its enough if a height difference that you have to tilt your head up to look into her honey brown eyes. She looked so cool! She wore a long black sleeve jacket over a red tube piece and black pants that accentuate her long and elegant legs.

For a moment you don't hear anything, somehow infatuated with this incredible woman and examining her entire face, until you get to her lips. They were moving, had she been talking the entire time!?

Quickly honing back in you asked.

"Uh, huh?"

She chuckled for a second, a cute noise as she brought her hand up to mouth.

"I asked you if you were okay." GODS!! Her voice was so pretty! It was gentle yet firm, and it was a little deeper than most girls, but still feminine!

You couldn't help but blush, here you were just going about your crappy morning, when suddenly heaven sends you a prince in a beautiful girl's body! The God's must have felt bad for you...

Quickly shaking your head and almost getting whiplash you look up at her.

"N-no. I-I mean yes! I'm okay!" Why were you stuttering!? It's just a normal woman! Yeah she kicked a ball away before it could hit you! And yeah she was pretty hot by normal standards. But this is no time to be so weak!

"That's good," She spoke gently, lifting a hand up to your hair and gently plucking a leaf out of it. "I would hate to see a cute girl like you get hurt."

. . .

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!!! SHE IS SO COOL! Is she flirting with you!? You can't tell! But that was like straight out of a fairytale! Compose yourself! At the very least thank her!

But before you can even get the words out she looks back behind her and turning back to you.

"I have to get going now, stay safe!" She turns around and starts jogging back to a group of men.

And she's gone.

Gone for good...

You blew it...

Good job.

Speaking of blowing it, weren't you late for work?

———{□}———

You were, in fact, very late.

You got chewed out by your manager, in front of your other coworkers and some customers. It was embarrassing to say the least. It didn't help that you were on shuffling duty, you worked at a decent store that sold plenty of stylish clothing, shoes and accessories, and alot of customers don't know how to put things back where they found them. So there you were, busy busting your ass, picking up hefty boxes of shoes and carrying them to their proper places.

It wasn't easy, you weren't weak by any means, but you're one person! Carrying a pile of boxes that obscure your vision! Not to mention there was an influx of customers, meaning your coworkers who were helping them, kept piling more boxes on top of you!

It got to the point your entire field of view was impeded by the boxes you had to carry, yeah you knew your way around the store, but you were about to either drop everything or bump into someone!

AND YOU WERE STILL HUNG UP ABOUT THAT GIRL!

You deeply regretted not getting her name, let alone her number! She really was very gorgeous. Dark brown hair that shone almost bronze in the sunlight, long and straight that framed her face so elegantly. Long, dark eyelashes that surrounded her beautiful brown eyes, and her iris' were like caramel mixed with chocolate. It looked like she wore a little bit of eyeliner, mascara, lip gloss but that was it. No heavy make up that changed the shaped of her face, meaning she was so beautiful all on her own.

You couldn't help but let out a small sigh in remembrance of her gaze, firm yet so gentle. You couldn't stop wondering about her, how sweet her voice was, how quick she was, and her strong legs.

You were so lost in thought you didn't see the box on the floor in front of you, not like you could see it through the boxes you were still carrying. Your foot gets caught on the box, causing you to trip and fall forward. You let out a yelp as you feel your body closing in on the ground, when suddenly you get the weirdest sense of deja vu.

A hand suddenly shoots out and wraps around your middle, keeping you from falling, whilst another arm quickly grabs the boxes you were carrying all on one hand. You hadn't even realized you closed your eyes until you hesitantly open them, peering up at your savior.

"We really ought to stop meeting like this." A familiar voice chuckled.

Soon you were face to face with the hottie from this morning. The only difference was that her hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and piercings lacing her ears.

HOW IS SHE EVEN COOLER!???

If this were an anime you'd be doing the weird whine from behind your fist as hearts form in your eyes.

In fact, I think that is what you were doing.

You were definitely ogling this poor woman, although if she noticed, she didn't care. She just helped you stand up, keeping her hand on your lower back as she kept you steady.

"You alright hun?"

You barely muster out a breathy mhm, continuing to stare at her, examining her figure you noticed she was wearing a button up shirt with rolled up sleeves, slacks and suspenders, and watch on her wrist.

She looked like an ikeman from your animes!! She looked at the boxes in her hand and back to you, her brow furrowed a little.

"This is alot for one person to carry, why don't I help you?"

"R-really? You would do that?" Your eyes were definitely sparkling at her, you were almost melting from how awesome she is.

She just chuckles and nods.

"Of course, anything for a cute girl like yourself." She said with a wink.

God's if you weren't swooning so much you'd start squealing like a fangirl meeting their favorite celebrity. Actually, this girl was quickly becoming your favorite celebrity!

You accept her offer of help, taking half of the boxes and leaving her the rest. You actually took less than her but only because she wouldn't let you carry anymore.

"I'm perfectly fine carrying this much."

And it was certainly true! I mean she already carried all of the boxes in one hand before handing some off to you. You lead her to a section just before the back, placing the boxes in your hands down and going to take the ones from hers.

"H-here, let me!" You shakingly reach for them, your hand brushing against hers as you take them. You blush as you feel her long fingers slip out from yours and carry the boxes to a counter.

"Thank you so much!" You began sorting the boxes. At least moving them off of eachother.

"It's alright! You don't need to thank me."

"But I want to!" You quickly turned around, your hand hitting the corner of the table realy hard and with a loud thwack!

"Ow!" You quickly hold your hand to your chest.

"Are you alright?" She asked worried. You smile and nod, looking down at your hand which was already bruising.

You frowned at the ugly blemish, groaning that today was just not your day.

Without noticing, the girl quickly came up to you and gently took your hand in hers.

You were about to inquire what she was doing when suddenly, she bent a little and lifted your hand up to her lips and gave the bruise a small tender kiss.

You felt your face explode in blush when you felt her lips against the back of your hand.

She looked back up at you with a smile and a playful gleam in her eyes.

"There, feel better?" Her voice was low and much more quiet, it almost felt erotic despite the fact she was kissing your booboo like a mother would a child.

You barely manage to stammer out an answer when she chuckles and stands up straight, lifting her own hand she playfully ruffles your hair a little.

"Hey, I gotta get back to my group, take care!" She turns around and begins walking away from you.

Quickly snapping out of your haze you you stumble after her.

"W-wait! Can I at least get your name??"

She stops, turning around and smiling at you with creased eyes.

"Of course! Call me MC!" And with that, she leaves. Again.

MC...? Even her name is cool... although it's not very helpful. But, at least you got to put a name to a face.

To a very cool, pretty face.

Now if only you had asked for her number...

——————————————————————————

《Hope you liked it! I'm not the best at writing, and there are surely typos and errors! But hey at least I did it! Can't say the same for the rest of my life 😅😥😢😭》

[beauttifullife]

Together.

"Does that mean Freya will have two moms?" Joffrey asked, his innocent curiosity cutting through the moment like a knife. Just as I was taking a sip of my wine, I nearly choked, coughing as Freya stirred grumpily in my arms.

Rhaenyra's eyes widened in disbelief at her youngest son's bluntness—a trait I couldn't help but think he had inherited entirely from her. It was a moment of poetic justice, watching her grapple with the candidness she often displayed, even if it came at my expense.

"Joffrey," she began, her voice a mixture of surprise and a hint of amusement, "that's not—”

"But it is, isn’t it?" Joffrey pressed on, oblivious to the weight of the conversation we had just navigated. His face lit up with excitement, eyes sparkling as he looked between us. "Freya will have you and Elizabeth both! That’s like having the best of both worlds!”

Rhaenyra paused, momentarily at a loss for words, and I could see the tension ease from her shoulders, replaced by a reluctant smile.

“Yes, I suppose you could say that,” she finally replied, shooting me a glance that was both exasperated and affectionate.

The corners of my lips turned upward, warmed by the unanticipated joy that filled the room. Joffrey’s innocent enthusiasm was infectious, reminding us all of the love that bound us together, despite the complexities of our situation. I cradled Freya a little tighter, feeling the gentle weight of her against me as if she were the embodiment of hope itself.

"And we'll take care of her, right?" Joffrey continued, his expression serious now, though his eyes still shone with that childlike brightness. "We’ll make sure she has everything she needs."

I glanced at Rhaenyra, but before she could answer, I found myself speaking, my voice steady, filled with conviction.

“Absolutely,” I said, meeting Joffrey’s earnest gaze. "We will protect her, just like we protect each other.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Rhaenyra turn toward me, her expression softening in a way that made my heart ache. There was something in her eyes, a depth of emotion I wasn’t sure I could fully grasp at that moment, but I could feel it—her gratitude, her trust, her love.

Lucerys, his earlier confusion now replaced by a wide grin, nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah! We’re a family now, right?” His voice was full of certainty, the kind that only children seem to possess—the unwavering belief that family, no matter how unconventional, would always hold strong.

Rhaenyra’s smile broadened as she turned her attention to her sons. There was a radiant mix of pride, love, and something deeper that glimmered in her violet eyes as she gazed at them, but when she finally answered, her eyes weren’t on them—they were on me.

“Yes,” she said, her voice soft but resolute. “We are a family.”

The words hung in the air like a promise, heavier than they seemed. A warmth spread through me, a quiet assurance that, despite the chaos and uncertainty that surrounded us, this—what we had here—was real. It was something we could hold on to, something that could carry us through the battles ahead.

Freya stirred in my arms, her tiny fingers curling tighter around my thumb as she let out a soft coo, as if she, too, was claiming her place in this newfound family. I looked down at her, then back at Rhaenyra, and for the first time in a long while, I allowed myself to believe in the flicker of hope that sparked within me—a hope that maybe, just maybe, we could survive this.

Together.

[abbysthighs]

Ellie might have top vibes, but I think she tops from the literal bottom. She likes watching Dina ride.

[stuiie]

This Wild, Fragile Thing

༊*·˚ Sevika (Arcane) x Fem!Reader

Status: Work in progress

Summary: After your mother’s death, you find yourself inheriting more than her memory, you inherit her unofficial role as the building’s caretaker. It wasn’t a job she was paid for, just something she chose to do out of kindness, and now, the residents naturally turn to you to fill her shoes. Everyone except Sevika. Intimidating, brusque, and anything but warm, she makes it clear she doesn’t need or want your help. But you’ve made up your mind: you’ll care for her, even if she resists every step of the way.

As you begin to chip away at the walls Sevika has built around herself, you uncover a side of her few ever see, a woman shaped by more than just her fight for Zaun’s freedom. And in the process, you realize that some walls can’t be torn down alone—they need someone willing to stand on the other side.

Warning(s): Sexual themes, violence.

Featuring: smut, reader insert.

➺ This Wild, Fragile Thing (click the link to read on AO3)

➺ Stuie

Note: Here’s a little piece I’ve been working on for a couple of weeks now! My friend helped me post it on AO3 since the Wi-Fi at my resort is... well, let’s just say it’s doing its best, but definitely not winning any awards.

Hope you enjoy it!

[mamiobesssionfics]

Of Dark Lipstick and Hickeys

Warnings: Hinting at smut, making out.

Summary: In which a make-out session leaves its marks.

You couldn't breathe, but this was possibly the best version of suffocation.

Your lips are swollen, pupils dilated, and hands holding on for dear life.

You had your hands on her shoulders as you were straddling her, sitting in her lap.

You smiled at her expression. 

She looked so desperate, staring at your lips as she tried to pull you in by your waist.

She wanted more, no, she needed more. 

You liked seeing her like this, because you knew, you looked much the same. 

You ran your hand up her neck to the base of her hair when her lips locked to your neck.

Since you didn't give her what she wanted, she took the second best, your neck.

The noises you made were sinful, but they all were music to Rhea's ears.

Knowing just how much pleasure she caused you, it was absolutely phenomenal. 

You knew what the outcome of your little session would be, you would be covered in hickeys along with black lipstick.

But you did know just how much she liked having you in this state. And then how you will be covered in the marks she caused.

Each and every single hickey will be proof of who you belong to.

"We should go home." you whispered suddenly realizing that you were still in her dressing room. 

It seemed like it had been hours since you dragged her into the room after another wonderful event.

You grabbed her hand with the promise of kisses.

Rhea simply couldn't say no to that.

This all leads you to the state you are in now. Not like you were complaining, you loved the way her lips felt against your skin but you just really wanted to go home now.

"Let's go home and finish this, I know you are wet for me. I don't even have to touch you to know." she was right.

She always knew.

You were convinced she knew your body better than you did your own. 

You got off of her and checked yourself in the mirror.

You looked a mess.

You looked at your neck before grabbing the make-up remover and you began to remove the lipstick. 

Now you were left with redness.

"This will be difficult to cover."

"Don't you dare cover it. I spent a good time on each one."

"Yes, yes. I know, but you know I'm too lazy to cover them anyway so." you shrugged before finishing getting all the black off your neck.

"By the time I'm finished with you today, you will be covered in those."

"Promise?" you said playfully, making her smile and nod.

Oh, it was a promise.

[vermont-writes-fanfic]

Her Special Maid

Prologue Chapter~

Request:No

Chapter: Prologue

Warning: An unnecessarily indepth description of how to make bread the medieval way, not much else

Characters:Alcina Dimitrescu

A/N:I plan on making this into a series, I’m not to sure how it will go but fuck it, I have it taking place about a full year before anything with Ethan even begins to enter the question though so that’s why there will be little to no mention of him

A/N 2: This is a prologue so bare with it please!

Directory: Prologue (you are here), Chapter 1

You’re life in the village is by no means a hard one, Mother Miranda had blessed the village well and you and your family are devout to her and the four lords she appointed to help sustain the village. As a child, you had often wondered about the large castle that stood strong and resolute beyond the village, even more so about those who lived in it. You had read the tales of princesses and royalty living in buildings like this, however no one would answer you when you asked about it, they would just steer you away from it with weary looks cast towards the grandiose building.

As you grew older, you grew bolder and wandered closer to it, as if testing the castle to tell what secrets it held that kept everyone so on edge. Any time you could, you would sneak away from your duties in the house to venture further and further out, and that was when you met your first Lycan up close and personal. You had fled home unharmed but severely afraid. After that, the castle interested you much less.

It wasn’t until you fell ill with an affliction that no doctor could cure, that you first got a glimpse of what truly took home in the castle. You had been laying in bed running a fever and in and out of a stupor, when the sound of a carriage could be heard passing by. Your mother roused you from bed and forced you to stand beside your father as two carriages passed by. The windows to the carriage were heavily curtained but a pale white hand had reached out from behind them and you swore you saw golden eyes staring right back at you, but your father pressed your head down nearly taking your sick body to the ground.

After this, your curiosity had once again been piqued by the strange castle. If only to keep you from going closer to the castle, your mother told you it was where one of the four lords of the village lived, and that she had a penchant for taking young girls. You assumed this was true for the lost part, the last bit seeming more like something you tell to a child instead of a teen, however you were satisfied with they answer gave. As the years flew and your mother grew weak, you had to focus on taking over the small bakery your family ran. You learned the tricks of the trade out of a large recipe book that had been passed down from generation to generation filled and crammed with different kind of recipes, the alterations made, the exact rations, and everything else anyone aspiring to take of the business would need to know.

One morning,while you are trudging through the snow, you find a small box with a simple lock keeping it closed. Not wanting the snow to damage it or someone else to take it, also being curious yourself as to what is in it, you take it.You continue on your way back to the bakery and set it in your room in a raggedy but clean towel to dry so the wood doesn’t become soggy and damage the inner contents of the box. Now that you’ve set it down it’s clear to you that this is no ordinary jewllery box or otherwise. It’s ornatley decoratated and has a crest you’ve never seen before. Silver pegs at the bottom in each corner of the base stand the box up and pop against the deep dark slightly red of the wood. The wood it;s self is nicely glossed and clearly well cared for, however the dust in places that had not been disturbed by the snow and cloth shows that it’s old. You take a small handkerchief and wipe away the dust before inspecting it further.Silver vines with leaves trail up the lock which is split in two pieces to allow the box to open.Rumaging through a couple of drawers you finally find a old bobby pin your mother used to pin up your hair when you were a child, upon finding you slide it in and jiggle it around finding the right spot until you hear the click. As you open it, the gleam of the candle light reflecting off of what must be a pure silver locket slightly blinds you. It’s heavy in your hand and the locket it’s self is even heavier than the chain. Curiosity gets the better of you once more, and you snap the locket open. Inside is a worn picture of a beautiful woman with perfectly curled black hair, dark lipstick, and a gorgeous white dress, beneath and on either side of her are younger ladies who must be the womans daughters. None of them aside for the girl with the lightly brighter hair had a smile on her face, even then it was barely there. Feeling guilty for taking something with a clear sentimental value, you shut it and replace it in the box as it was, before shutting the box which automatically locks with a click.

You set it in a special drawer of your dresser, and head out tying up your hair to begin baking for the day, after all you were already behind on the bread that needed to be baked and if you didn’t have enough for the day you’de have to make more mid-way through which is no small feat. The day is relatively uneventful as you go about your daily routine, you take the flower you had bought from Mr.Bruner the week before and add water and bear to it along with a little yeast and begin to knead it.After thirty minutes you let it set working on several more large batches before shaping it into loaves of bread. You set out a stone slab over the fire and set several loaves down waiting for them to cook. This process is repeated from the point the sun is peeking up from the horizon, to the time it is placed a quarter of the way in the sky. The smell of fresh if slightly stale bread floods the house as well as the noses of passersby in the village. It isn’t as if you have much competition in such a small village, your family is the only bakery in it after all. With the bread done and baked, your younger brother takes to selling and keeping an eye on the front as you head back into your room to stare at the box. What if you were accused of stealing it from someone in the village? Who do you know would even have money enough to have something like this made? A thought passes your mind and you, for a moment, contemplate it before making the decision to see the merchant everyone had been to, aside from yourself. Running a bakery with a sick mother is stressful enough as it is so you never had time for anything not already planned out.

You have a bit of free time now, and he was on a path you liked to walk when you weren’t so weary of the Castle and haven't had the time to walk until now. You slide on your thicker boots and a cloak before leaving the back door and walking down the dirt path along the tree line. Here, most of the people in the village couldn’t see behind the line of houses and question where you are going. It was better this way, no one in the village has anything even remotely close to this value and the picture would give away that it doesn’t belong to you. A caravan comes into view near the front of the castles at the corner where the two dirt roads meet. As you stop in front of it, the doors swing open and a large man kicks his bare feet out pushing himself into a sitting position.

“Well hello there! I trust you are the baker's daughter, what brings you so close to the castle? Is it me, perchance?” The Duke greets you, though you are easily distracted by the trinkets on either door he had opened as the clink.

“Miss?” He calls out to you again an amused smile on his face as you look at his wares with blatant curiosity and wonder. Hearing this, you snap your eyes up at him and shake yourself out for the distracted daze you were in.

“My apologies, yes I’m here for you. I found this box,” you pause and take the box from its cloth confines, “have you seen anything like it?”

Immediately his interest is piqued and he scoots forward leaning down to gently take it from your hands and inspect it further. His eyes widen and his lips curl into a grin as he sets it back down.

“Oh no, I’ve never seen something like this…but I do know who it belongs to,” When he says this your eyes lift back to him from the box where they once were. He leans back into his seat before rocking forward to peek around the doors of his home, an arm pointing to the castle before the two of you.

“The Lady Dimitrescu, that box most certainly belongs to her.I’ve only seen products from her castle use such ornate silver designs. And the crest, is hers.”

Hearing this, you turn to look at th castle, what you thought was fantastical and large from afar, is imposing and intimidating now as it looms over you. This would be a place wear one of Mother Miranda’s appointed lords would stay. Could you maybe leave it at the doorstep, or give it to him and have it returned to her that way? The thought of entering the large castle had once entertained and excited you but now it fills you with dread. What if she thought you stole it? Your mother had told you that young ladies went missing to the castle many times , and that your best friend was suspected to have been taken there as well.

“Do you plan to give it to her yourself?” The Duke questions, a brow raised, that amused smile never quite leaving his face as he watches you.

“Y-yes, it’s only right it’s returned to her…” Even as you say it, your legs seem to dread the thought of moving closer. The Lord were made to protect the village, surely one wouldn’t harm you…right?

You shake your fear from you, your father had always told you that being a coward even as a woman would lead you nowhere in life. You turn to the Duke and thank him for his help, before walking on shaking legs towards the door of the castle. Underneath the terror and anxiety, your beating heart quickens for another reason, your strides quicken and you bite you lip to hold back the excited smile that twitches at your lips. Even through the fear, you might be able to enter a castle. A real life castle, and one that you had always hoped to enter. Mother had always warned that your childish curiosities would get you hurt, and you pray to Miranda that she is wrong. In no time at all, your eager legs have carried you through the snow to the door of the castle, and you give a timid if excited knock. After a few moments, your apprehension grips you, and you think to leave it at the door. Just as you turn around, the massive doors open and the warmth of the inside beckons you. Against your better judgment, you walk through the large doors which quickly shut behind you.

End note: Let me know what you all think it would be really appreciated

Total Word Count: 1959 words

[ranchracoon]

Phantom of House Beneviento Master Post

Thanks to Mother Miranda you now work with a semi-delusional, old woman named Angie for the mysterious Lord Beneviento. You discover that no one has heard, seen, or spoken to this lord and you start to question if they even exist. A wide hole is punched into that theory after you hear music being played in the forbidden basement, but before you could see who was playing it you were shut out. After that encounter you start to feel as though you are being watched, and use that to your advantage to maybe lure this allusive lord out into the open. However, Lord Beneviento isn't the only one who has their eye set on you.

This story is not canon to the Resident Evil Village gameplay but will feature some of the recognizable characters which include but are not limited to: Donna Beneviento, Alcina Dimitrescu, Salvatore Moreau, Karl Heisenberg, and Mother Miranda.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

[16-lost-in-a-film-scene]

Mistletoe

gif not mine, credits to owner

Christmas is over, and you two don't plan on leaving the christmas lights up 'til January, so how will Wanda give you a last surprise before completely wrapping up the holiday?

ㅤ Wanda Maximoff × F!Reader

Christmas was over, and it was just you and Wanda alone in your house, cleaning everything.

The witch was taking the decorations out of the walls with her magic while you were storing everything back to the old placard you would use to store boxes.

Once you were done, you began to clean the kitchen, doing the dishes left and taking away the tiny decorations you two would put on the counters.

You smiled when you noticed that Wanda had put a new polaroid of you on the TV. You two had taken it on the 24th, the redhead was laughing as she tried to clean the small coffee mustache that you had. It was cute. You decided to leave it there, but not before writing "Christmas, 2027" under it to remember the date forever.

When you finished cleaning and were satisfied by it, you heard Wanda calling you from the living room, so you quickly walked to her.

- Yeah, hun? - You asked once you arrived and felt relieved when you noticed that it was all clean already.

- Come here - The witch said as she stood still in her place, smiling.

You were confused, but did as you were asked.

- Closer. -

You moved closer.

- Closer. -

You stood just in front of your girlfriend, feeling her soft smell fill your nostrils.

With one snap of Wanda's fingers, there was a mistletoe on top of you, and after noticing, you looked down at Maximoff.

- You couldn't ask for it normally? - You asked playfully and moved your hands to Wanda's waist.

- Mm-mm. I'd rather it this way. - She answered as she put her arms on your shoulders and leaned in to kiss you.

It was a soft and short kiss, nothing that hadn't happened before, but the magic of the season made it somehow more special.

Wanda was the one to pull away first, slowly and not too far away.

- Love you. - She whispered as she looked into your eyes.

You smiled and softly brushed your nose against the other one's, as if giving her soft caresses. - Love you, too. - You answered in a whisper as you saw Maximoff slightly scrunching her nose as a reaction to the soft caresses before leaning in for another kiss, this time longer and sweeter.

[freakassfemme]

[i'll crawl home to her] pt 2: shut the fuck up - yara greyjoy x brienne of tarth

Summary: Brienne of Tarth, after escaping the grasp of the Ironborn queen, finds herself wandering back to Yara Greyjoy instead of the safety offered to her at Winterfell.

Warnings: smut (nothing too raunchy yet tho), lesbianism (but that's a blessing), drinking, swearing, canon divergence, etc.,

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: PLEASE THEY HAVE SO MUCH CHEMISTRY IM SHAKING IN MY FUCKING BOOTS! I need to make them fuck. I will make them fuck LMFAO. But for now ridiculous flirting and bickering and arguing and jealousy and angry Brienne. Let them eat cake.

NO MINORS BEYOND THIS POINT

For what seemed like an incredibly long lapse of time, Yara stared at the knight, expression unreadable.

Brienne's stomach flipped as Yara's eyes raked over Brienne and the red-headed woman from top to bottom, then back up to Brienne's face. Still, she said nothing, didn't even seem to feel anything.

Yara turned back to the blonde woman in her lap.

Brienne watched in almost disbelief as Yara wrapped her other arm around the woman, pulling her aggressively down on to her own fingers. Brienne watched as the blonde arched her back further, letting out a loud moan that elicited laughs from other visitors in the tavern.

Then, Yara laughed flatly, smiling without her eyes. She spoke to a man behind her, gesturing him over, and soon, a crowd of men formed around Yara and the blonde. They took turns verbally teasing her as Yara worked her up, all the while completely ignoring Brienne and her gaping stare.

Gods above, Yara was a shameless fuck.

The redhead turned then, stopping her assault on Brienne's neck, to let her attention follow the crowd. Brienne tore her eyes away from Yara and down to the woman. She winched a bit at the soreness on her throat, but quickly covered up her discomfort as the woman turned back to her.

"Cecilia always get herself into the most fun," she whispered giddily, only a twinge of jealously in her words. "She's the lady's favorite."

Ah, so Yara was a regular here now. Enough to be well-known amongst the prostitutes.

How pleasant, Brienne thought to herself, not bothering to hide the annoyance on her face but trying to ignore the uneasy pull in her throat.

Thankfully, the redheaded woman did not notice, and instead pranced off, enticed by Yara and Cecilia just as much as all the others. Brienne, on the other hand, kept her distance, though even she could not look away from the spectacle.

"That's a good girl," she heard Yara coo, almost tauntingly, and over the heads of the people, she could see Yara pressing her hand against Cecilia's lower stomach, pushing her back just enough to allow others to watch Cecilia's so obviously dripping cunt fall on to Yara's waiting fingers.

The men laughed at Cecilia's responsive whine, and Brienne felt her ears turn red. Not only at the outrageous display, but at Yara's obvious efforts to seem unconcerned Brienne's presence and make a show out of it all. It irritated Brienne to no end, especially when she considered how much different Yara had looked at her when she was sitting on Brienne's lap.

"Ah, shit," Yara cursed. Her head fell forward, brown locks framing their panting faces as the two ground their hips against each other in an almost perfect sync.

Brienne worked her fingers inside Yara, curving them into her and running her thumb over her clit, just as Yara had showed her to.

"Like this?" Brienne asked, eyes watching Yara's face for any reaction. Their hips pushed Brienne's fingers impossibly deeper, and Yara groaned loudly. She squeezed her eyes shut and nodded frantically, hand pressed to the bedframe behind Brienne's head.

"God, yes," Yara moaned.

A loud wail snapped Brienne out of her thoughts. She shifted uncomfortably in her spot, almost cringing at Cecilia's pitch as she climaxed in Yara's hand, though Brienne swore if she hadn't been watching, she would've thought Yara slaughtered a cow instead.

"Good heavens," Brienne muttered to herself. She rolled her eyes and pushed herself off of the wall as Cecilia was whisked off Yara's lap, now free for the other men now that Yara had had her first dibs.

The crowd slowly dispersed, leaving Yara drinking her ale. She would've looked nonchalant if Brienne hadn't memorized the stiffness of her shoulders and if she wasn't white-knuckling her stein.

Brienne worked her way to Yara's table, walking around the side of it to stop across from her, where their eyes could meet if only Yara would fucking look up.

They both stayed silent for a long moment, letting the intensity bloat itself until it was insufferable and suffocating the two. Brienne's breathing grew heavy again, and the tips of her fingers trembled where Yara couldn't see them. Yara, on the other hand, set her cup down and ran the soiled tip of her own finger around the rim. Brienne wrinkled her nose, then opened her mouth to speak.

"Is this where you've ended up, then?" Yara said, beating her to the chase, just as she always did.

Slowly, Yara looked up at her, letting hungry, steel-colored eyes meet Brienne's uneasy blues. Brienne's breath caught in her throat.

"I have to admit, I'm surprised, I didn't think this type of work was really your thing."

"Oh shut the fuck up."

Brienne snapped out of her anxiety at Yara's accusation, and she rolled her eyes. She pulled the chair across from Yara back and fell into it. Yara chuckled and propped her feet up on the table, leaning back casually, territorially. She put her hands up in a satirical surrender.

"I yield, my lady!" She said, looking over Brienne intensely, eyes still holding that unreadable blankness that made Brienne's stomach churn.

"Ser," Brienne corrected.

"Right," Yara said, smiling dangerously. "You're a knight now, aren't you?"

Brienne nodded slowly, glancing away from Yara's predatory gaze. Yara's eyes widened, nodding condescendingly as if praising Brienne for being correct.

"And I am the lady," she corrected, raising her cup up before taking a hefty swig. Still, she never looked away, watching Brienne over the rim of her stein. Brienne did not speak, and so Yara set her cup down.

With a loud thump, her feet dropped to the floor. It took the table, and Brienne jumped, looking up at Yara. She watched as Yara's legs spread, taking up more space, and Yara leaned her arm back against the rest of her chair.

"What are you doing here then, Brienne?" Yara asked, voice lower but still holding that icy tone that sent chills down Brienne's back.

Yara didn't say the obvious, but Brienne felt it floating in the air between them, hovering stagnantly.

You should've known better than to come back.

"Did the Starks send you on another goose chase, sweetheart?"

Brienne stiffened at the term of endearment. She folded her hands in her lap and shifted in her seat uncomfortably. She took a long breath, then leaned back, trying to exude some confidence of her own.

"I have been relieved of my duties to the Starks," Brienne said, finally speaking.

She grinned, taking in Brienne's nervousness like fuel for her own ego.

"And how did you accomplish that one?" Yara asked. "The Starks are not people who.. let go so easily, as I'm sure you know."

Brienne bit her lip, glancing away again.

"I had other business to attend to."

Yara raised her eyebrows in surprise. She chuckled and then ran her tongue over her teeth.

"Business so important that Brienne of Tarth broke her oath?"

"I did not break my oath," Brienne snapped, "I was relieved of my duty."

"Right," Yara said, face falling bank to that empty slate. Brienne shuddered. "I'll have to send Sansa my regards. You do have a way of worming your way out of duty."

Fuck, there it was.

Now it was Brienne's turn to chuckle. Still a bit drunken, she covered her mouth with a single finger, then pointed at Yara as she spoke.

"I still can't believe you really thought I was really going to leave the Starks for you," Brienne said, halfway amused.

"Yet, here you are," Yara said, smirk growing wider. "Not your smartest idea, I must admit."

"Which part?" Brienne challenged, leaning froward. "Fucking you? Lying to you? Or coming back?"

Yara's eyes narrowed.

"I could have your head for treason," Yara said.

"I never swore an oath to you."

"You implied-"

"I. Never. Swore. An. Oath. To. You," Brienne hissed. She glared at Yara as she annunciated every word. Yara stared back, sucking on her teeth with a cold expression. "You cannot execute me for betraying a queen I do not serve."

"I could have your head anyways."

Brienne tried to suppress a laugh at the double meaning Yara had not-so-purposefully slipped into her words. Yara furrowed her eyebrows, then rolled her eyes.

"Oh, shut the fuck up," Yara said, taking a drink of her ale and relaxing back into her seat.

"I didn't say anything," Brienne said, still smiling cheekily.

"No, I'm sure your mouth was preoccupied."

Brienne chuckled, shrugging. "Not the way you were."

Yara's eyebrows went up again, and a cocky smirk bloomed across her face. Brienne's cheeks went red at her own realization. Her heart jumped as the tables turned, catching Brienne's words this time and the realization the followed them.

Yara tilted her head, laughing softly in slight disbelief.

"I knew you watched."