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goldfades · 5 months

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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "helloooo! can you write something about reader suspecting paige and azzi’s friendship to be more than a friendship (r and paige are a situationship or sum like that) and just paige reassuring her and saying that she has eyes only for her etc… (paige is literally obsessed with r)? thank you so much 💖💖💖💖💖"

─ word count | 1.3k

─ warnings | hurt to comfort, paige being sassy, reassurance and so much cute fluffy, a singular kiss

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @boiliatfu and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

YOU AND PAIGE had been friends for a while now, but it was just recently you'd been friends... and a little more.

It was something new, something fun and something secret. The only person who knows was KK only because she'd walked in on the two of you kissing, and now she swears she's "traumatized."

The secret relationship (of some sorts) between you and Paige added an exhilarating edge to your friendship. It was a thrill, the stolen glances, the secretive rendezvous, the whispered conversations laden with double meanings. You found yourselves drawn to each other in a way that went beyond friendship, yet you both reveled in the secretive nature of your relationship.

KK's discovery of your secret sent a ripple of panic through both of you at first. But unsurprisingly, she was more supportive than expected, despite her initial shock. After the initial awkwardness wore off, she became your confidante, the one person you could trust with your affair. She teased you both mercilessly, of course, but it was all in good fun.

But beneath the excitement, there was also a hint of panic. Keeping your newfound romance a secret added an element of danger, a thrill that was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. The fear of being discovered lurked in the background, heightening every stolen moment and making each encounter feel all all the more precious.

Yet despite the risks, the connection between you and Paige only seemed to grow stronger. The shared laughter, the stolen kisses, the quiet moments of intimacy — they all served to deepen the bond between you, creating a private world that was uniquely yours.

But of course, it wasn't all smooth sailing.

──

"What do you mean?" Paige's tone had an annoyed edge to it as she sent you a glance. She pulled off a side of her headphones as she kept her eyes glued on the computer screen.

You sighed exasperatedly, sitting up on her bed as you sent her a glare. "What do you think I mean?"

Paige hated when you spoke like that, so secretive and cryptic, like you wanted her to say the wrong thing. She liked things laid out plain and simple, while you preferred to dance around topics, especially ones that felt too vulnerable.

"I don't know, that's why I asked." Paige's voice didn't soften as she spoke, her eyes glancing at you every once in a while. She just had the most tiring practices and the last thing she wanted to do was argue with you.

You huffed, feeling frustrated. "I feel like Azzi has a crush on you or something. I see the way she looks at you, it's like when I look at you — all heart eyes, and shit."

Paige's lips curved into a smirk. "Aww, are you saying you have heart eyes for me?"

"I'm being serious, P." You were frustrated. You hated when you felt insecure, especially in relationships. While Paige never gave you any reason to doubt her, she was just naturally enticing and that's what pulled you to her in the first place.

But that's also why others were so captivated by her. The looks she gets, the way people spoke about her and now the whole TikTok obsession wasn't helping. You hated it — you wanted everyone to know that she was yours, and vice versa.

"Okay, okay." Paige's expression was still very much amused as she glanced toward you. "You know me and Azzi are just friends, we're just really close. I promise you, I'd know if she had a crush on me."

"I have eyes, Paige." You shot back, frustration bubbling in your voice.

You couldn't shake the feeling of insecurity gnawing at you, no matter how much you trusted Paige. The thought of someone else vying for her attention filled you with a sense of unease that you couldn't shake. You also knew that there was still that boundary, you weren't her girlfriend and had no valid reason for you to be jealous.

Paige's eyes widened at your tone. You never called her just by her name, it was some kind of nickname or pet name. She sighed as she pulled her headset off and set it down, turning to face you.

"Hey," Paige began gently, reaching out to take your hand in hers. "You have to believe me when I say there's nothing going on between me and Azzi. She's just a really good friend and she's not into me, and even if she is,"

She paused as she shook her head in amusement at the mere thought. "I don't want her, I want you."

You sighed, still feeling frustrated. "I want to believe you, P. I really do. But it's hard, you know? Seeing how close you two are, and... and knowing that I don't have any claim over you."

She squeezed your hand reassuringly, offering you a small smile. "I know it's not easy, especially when we haven't defined what we are yet. But that doesn't change how I feel about you."

You looked up, meeting her gaze, searching for any sign of deceit. But all you found was sincerity in her eyes.

"I care about you, more than I can put into words," Paige continued softly. "And I want you to feel secure in what we have, even if it's not official. You mean a lot to me."

You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest at Paige's words. Despite your doubts, her sincerity shone through, washing away some of your insecurities. Her hand in yours felt warm and comforting, grounding you in the present as you allowed yourself to bask in the affection she offered.

"I trust you, Paige," you admitted, a small smile tugging at your lips. "And I care about you too, a lot."

"Besides," Paige continued, her tone playful as she leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear. "Who needs Azzi when I've got you? You're the one I can't stop thinking about, the one who drives me crazy in the best possible way."

You couldn't help but chuckle at her words, feeling a rush of affection for the girl sitting beside you. As you leaned in to press a soft kiss to her cheek, Paige's expression shifted, a teasing glint entering her eyes.

"And uh, speaking of claims," she began, her tone teasing as she traced a finger along your jawline. "You know, I've been thinking about you a lot lately. Can't seem to get you out of my head."

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt a blush creep up your cheeks. "Oh, really? And what exactly have you been thinking about?"

Paige leaned in closer, her lips brushing against yours as she whispered, "Just how lucky I am to have you in my life. And how much I want to make you mine, officially."

Your heart skipped a beat at her words, warmth spreading through you at the intensity of her gaze. In that moment, any lingering doubts melted away, leaving only the affection you'd felt for Paige.

"But not right now 'cus this isn't as romantic as I want," she continued as you scoffed playfully. You leaned away slightly only to be pulled back by the blonde.

Paige's playful smirk widened as she pulled you back towards her. "Hey, don't pout. I promise when the time comes, it'll be unforgettable."

"So, you're really going to make me wait?" you teased, a grin spreading across your face as you leaned into her touch.

Paige smirked, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I want it to be perfect, baby. But for now," she added, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips, "just know that I'm all yours."

The warmth of her lips against yours sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a spark of desire within you. "I'll hold you to that," you murmured against her lips, feeling a surge of affection for the woman in front of you.

Paige smiled against your lips, her fingers tangling in your hair as she deepened the kiss, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#wcbb x reader #wcbb #ncaaw #uconn huskies #uconn #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #paige bueckers #paige buckets #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers fluff #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers headcannons #paige bueckers fic #ncaa women’s basketball #ncaa wbb

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loveisanimaginarydagger3000 · 3 months

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Good Luck, Babe! (2)- Try To Stop The Feeling

Wanda Maximoff X Reader 18+

Inspired by the song 'Good Luck, Babe!' by Chappell Roan

Summary: Returning to Westview after twelve years away causes you to look back on your secret love affair with Wanda, to remember the intimate moments you shared together before her refusal to accept her true self drove the two of you apart, leaving you to pick up the pieces of your broken heart alone.

What happens when you reunite with the woman you've been trying so hard to forget, forced to watch her suffer in an unhappy marriage that was slowly drowning her, still too scared to confront her true feelings?

Chapter 2- 4.6k- Mature Rating

Good Luck, Babe! Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

A/N- This chapter includes mature themes such as Drinking, Descriptions internalised homophobia and Allusions to compulsory heterosexuality.

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Laughter filled the room as you chuckled around your cigarette, your head tilting to the side to blow the smoke towards the ceiling of Natasha's room, the redhead on the bed next to you copying your actions as she amused you. You looked at your best friend, admiring the playful and casual smirk planted on her lips as you chilled with her, watching happily as she moved her hand to the gentle beat of the music that was playing from her speaker in the corner, partly buried by clothes her sister had stolen before being forced to return them by Melina. The music that accompanied your laughter and rather loud chatter was something her father, Alexi, was not too pleased about as you heard him mutter something disapproving in Russian as he passed her bedroom door, the redhead mimicking her fathers actions only entertaining you further.

"May would smack the back of my head if she ever caught me doing that," you mutter, shaking your head playfully at Natasha mocking her father, the redhead rolling her eyes as she knew that your Aunt May would never do such a thing to you, she loved you too much. That woman was the sweetest woman she'd ever met, her warm, kind and friendly persona something you loved about your aunt, something you appreciated throughout your whole childhood.

"That woman wouldn't even hurt a fly," the Russian teases, crushing the end of her cigarette in the discarded ash tray on her bedside table before leaning over to where you were laying on her bed, stealing the end of yours as she knew how much it annoyed you, a defeated sigh leaving you as you knew there was no point in fighting her, the woman next to you always able to get what she wants.

Before you could make a snarky remark back at her, complaining how everyone seems to steal your cigarettes, the sound of a grunt and a small thud caught your attention as you both lifted your heads off the mattress to look at the window, the sight of Bucky's hair making you let out a small laugh as he climbed through her window.

"You do know doors exist, right?" you tease, deciding to use your sarcastic comment on the redhead's boyfriend as he pushes his long hair out of his eyes, revealing his icy blue eyes which were filled with just as much mirth as yours.

"As if Alexi would ever let me come in through the front door," he mutters, taking his jacket off before sitting in the chair next to the bed, his smile widening at the sight of the adoring look Natasha offered him before her attention was drawn to outside her door.

"Лучше бы там не было мальчика, Natalia! (There better not be a boy in there, Natalia)" Shouted her father over the music, the sound of a deeper voice catching the older man's attention as he walked passed once more, his fist pounding on the door.

In the room, Bucky's eyes widened, his usually casual blue morphing into worry at Alexi's words, the boy wanting to make a good first impression to his girlfriend's father, prompting him to swiftly drop to the floor by the bed, hiding as all three of you heard her door handle turn. Her father's inspecting gaze soon peeked around the door as Natasha groaned at her father's protectiveness, your smile growing at the whole interaction as you could see the end of Bucky's boot peaking just beyond the end of her bed, your teeth biting down on your lower lip to contain your laughter.

"Papa," she groaned, hiding her face with her hands as her father put his hands up in surrender, not wanting to further annoy his daughter as she could be quite scary when pissed off at him. "It's just Y/n," at her words, you wave at the man with an amused and cocky expression, his face still sceptical though.

"Нет мальчиков (No boys)" Is all he mutters before shutting the door, a sigh of relief leaving the couple whilst you can't help but let out your laughter, Natasha smacking you at how much their nervousness entertained you, your hands coming up in surrender just like her father's did, your turn to playfully mock the man.

"This is why I can't wait to go to Uni," she mutters, annoyed hints in her tone, Bucky climbing back to his feet and flopping back into the chair, his feet going on the edge of the bed after he reaches over to steal Natasha's drink, winking teasingly at her before taking a considerable sip of it.

"Have Shield gotten back yet?" You ask, tilting your head to look at her as you remember that you were supposed to ask her about the university she applied to earlier on, your memory too busy thinking of a certain brunette most of the time to function adequately. At the smile that breaks on her face, the redhead attempting to play coy but unable to as happiness carves its way onto her face tells you the answer, a proud expression taking over your face as you grin at her. "Congrats, Nat," your tone is genuine and sincere as she offers you another thrilled smile, "I'm so proud of you." You look at the woman you'd been friends with for your entire life, warmth enveloping your chest as pride filled you, seeing her accomplish her dream making your day.

"Thank you," she whispers, bumping her shoulder against yours before continuing, "Have you heard anything back yet?" She asks, knowing you were hesitant about University, not wanting to leave May all alone and abandon your home as your options for your future were limited.

"The only place that's willing to give me a scholarship is MI: 13," you say, voice growing more unsure as you tell them, Bucky's brows furrowing as he places where he had heard the name, concern growing on his face as he knew you didn't want to travel far.

"But that's in England," His tone conveying his confusion as you shrug your shoulders, not wanting to talk about the possibility of having to leave your home, the university the only one willing to take you.

"Yeah," you whisper, clearly growing uncomfortable with the mere thought of it, causing you to sit upright and check the time, wanting to switch the topic to something else. "Anyway, enough about me," you joke, Natasha knowing you were just pushing the feelings down, face growing sympathetic as you continue, going along with what you were saying to make you comfortable, "Don't we have a party to sneak off too?"

The two of them chuckle at your antics as you jump off the bed, grabbing your own jacket before finishing off your drink, motioning for the other two to start moving, wanting to just have fun for the rest of the night at Tony's party, to think about nothing other than being free for the moment.

***

Chanting echoed around inside your head and the room, the music blaring out of the speakers deafened by the collective cheer as you downed the last of the vile drink someone created for you, your face screwing up into a grimace at the way the alcohol burned the back of your throat. You felt a few pats on the back of your shoulder as you offered Bucky a dazed smile, the earlier drinks from the night seeming to have reached your head as you held onto his shoulder, chuckling at your drunkenness. His face only showed he was just as far gone as you were, the two of you laughing like idiots as you stumbled your way to the kitchen to make yourself another drink, the sound of your tipsy giggle catching the attention of Natasha as she shook her head at the state of the two of you, the pair of you too much of a chaotic duo for her to handle sometimes.

"What are you two doing?" she asks, raising her brow as she fixes herself a vodka, the Russian much better at handling her alcohol than you or Bucky, the two of your attempts at an innocent smile causing a small, endearing smile to break out onto her face.

"Nothing," Bucky mumbles, leaning against the countertop for support, purposely bumping into you to make you bump him back, trying to be subtle in front of the redhead but failing miserably as you annoy one another.

"So you weren't about to get shots?" She teases, grabbing another couple of glasses that were available, seemingly offering to pour you some, your gaze blurring briefly as you try to remember why this was familiar, the redhead confused at your puzzled and thoughtful expression.

"Nope," Bucky slurs, popping the 'p' and smiling at her charmingly, his blue eyes filled with love as he gazes at her, flashing her an affectionate smile to make her roll her eyes as he aims to make her blush. "But if you wanna pour us some that'd be ok," he murmurs, knowing if the two of you tried to do it there'd be a lot of broken glass or spilled drinks as well as an array of disappointed complaints about the waste of alcohol.

"Wait," your tone raising in a dramatic fashion as you point your finger at her, remembering the memory briefly, "Don't trust her. She's gonna give us shots of water," Bucky's face morphs into disbelief that Natasha would do such a thing, the redhead rolling her eyes as she downs her shot, needing it right now.

"I'm surrounded by idiots," she mutters to herself, smiling at you both as she pours you each a shot of Vodka, proving to you she wouldn't to make you both trust her, knowing full well she'd switch it to water for the next round.

"Salut," Bucky cheers before you all take another shot, a grimace taking over your face at the alcohol and the sight of Bucky kissing Natasha, the redhead chuckling at the man she cherished so much before kissing his cheek and wrapping her arm around his waist to keep him upright.

"Get a room," you groan, Natasha sticking her middle finger up at you as she kisses him again, your face showing your distaste for the view causing you to leave the couple alone, not wanting to see anymore.

You mutter nonsense to yourself as you stagger around, trying to slip past people who were dancing to the blaring music to find somewhere a little less crowded for a moment, eyes slowly drifting across the room as your vision blurred once again, the sight of a familiar head of brown hair making your dazed smile widen, warmth bubbling inside you.

Deciding to go and see Wanda, you attempted to make your way through the busy hallways to get to her but the sight of a drunk Maria stopped you in your tracks, the intense blue of the woman staring at you as her mouth moved, rambling to you about something but you couldn't hear anything she said, simply offering her a drunk smile back in response as you stared at Wanda.

God you missed her. You just wanted to go up to her and tell her how beautiful she was, how amazing she was. You wanted her to know how much you loved her, all her little quirks, her pretty smile, that amused look in her eyes when you'd do something stupid. You longed to hear that angelic laughter of hers, to hear that soft, embarrassed giggle. You yearned to hear the more sinful noises too, your drunken gaze eventually being torn away from her face to the outfit she was wearing, smiling to yourself at the skirt she had worn and the red jacket that she knew you loved, your intoxicated mind unable to think of anything but her. You were drunk on the thought of her and you were addicted to it.

Maria noticed your unfocused stare, the expectant look on her face fading away as she realised you hadn't listened to a word she said, a gentle chuckle leaving her as she took in how drunk you were, advising you to go to a bathroom for a moment before leaving as she saw her friend Clint across the room, leaving to have an actual conversation with someone.

You hadn't even noticed she left you, too busy letting the world fade around you as you gazed at Wanda, taking one, unsteady step forward before stopping, the sight of a blonde entering your vision wiping the enamoured expression off your face.

It felt like a piercing pain in your chest as you watched Vision lean next to Wanda, his body towering over hers as she grinned up at him, shooting another shot someone offered her before peering up at him like she always did to you, an ache building in your chest at the sight of them.

Thoughts raced through your mind, anxiety coursing through your veins and mixing with the alcohol, the room spinning a little as you felt that familiar tightness in your chest, your breathing accelerating as you gripped onto a piece of furniture to stop your knees from giving way, somehow unable to look away from the sight that would only cause you more pain.

His hand cupped her cheek before he leaned down to press his lips to hers, his other hand moving to hold her waist as she kissed him back just as passionately, trying to stop the feeling that gnawed away at her as she focussed on him, desperately trying to forget everything else as she pushed her body further into his, unknowingly pushing you further into your state of panic and anxiety.

You wanted to leave, to somehow escape the claustrophobic space of the party happening around you but your body seemed to freeze, your muscles not listening to your screaming brain as your breathing continued to become more laboured, your heart beating harder against your ribcage at the way her hand threaded through his blonde locks, scratching at his scalp as his hand drifted lower, slipping under the hem of her skirt.

At the feeling of bile rising up your throat, you managed to turn away from the painful sight of them, your heart squeezing in agony as you blink back the tears threatening to spill, your hand clutching at your shirt, the fabric feeling restrictive against you whilst you drowned in a spiral of negative thoughts.

Why? Why did she do this? You thought she cared about you. You thought you were more. It felt like more. Was she really that scared? That scared to confront herself? Or was she ashamed of you?

When the thoughts became too much, you realised you needed to get out of there. You needed to be alone. You pushed past people, not caring if they were annoyed at your actions as you stumbled across Tony's house to find one of the bathrooms, slamming the door shut as you fell to the floor, back resting against the wood as you held your head in your hands, struggling to steady your breathing at your incessant thoughts.

Why couldn't she just love you the way you loved her?

***

Leaning your head back against your truck, you felt a deep pit of regret stirring inside you, a tired and defeated sigh leaving you as you waited for the usual footsteps to sound next to you, your eyes closed as you waited for her to arrive. You hated how you agreed to see her again, how you pushed down the events of that night to pretend that nothing was wrong with you, that you didn't have your heart shattered by the woman making her way over to you. You just wanted the anxiety and hurt to go away, the only person in the world who made you feel safe and free from your thoughts ironically the person causing them, Wanda the only person able to clear away the lingering fog of anxiety wrapped around you and clear the sky for you, to make you feel free from all your problems for a brief moment. It was stupid really, you just hoped that if you drown yourself in the safety she provided you'd forget about everything, be able to draw a line under it and move on.

The sound of her footsteps made you plant a smile on your lips, your eyes gently fluttering open as she moved to stand next to you, her green observing the hint of uneasiness in you as she peered up at you, offering you that smile she knew calmed you down. The nerves only subsided a little at her delicate and soft look, the various shades of green gazing into you causing a small flicker of warmth to tickle your heart, not the usual fire that would warm your chest as doubts still gnawed away at you, part of you wanting to confront her about last night but deciding not to, simply asking her where she wanted to go tonight instead of vocalising your thoughts.

You drove her to the Lake as she requested, the car ride filled with light banter as you wanted to hear her laugh, to feel that flutter in your chest every time she did so, your mind slowly starting to push the memory of the party further down as you focussed on this moment with her, her mesmerising green still observing you with a small hint of confusion at your odd behaviour from earlier. Her worry faded as the car ride prolonged, your usual smile growing on your lips whilst your hand moved to her knee, squeezing softly as the country roads passed you by, the scenery of open space soon changing to deep forests as you approached your hidden lake.

Once you had arranged the truck as you always did, you laid down in the back against the pillows, watching tenderly as Wanda climbed in to join you, your eyes widening at the way she effortlessly straddled your lap, intent in her eyes as she smirked down at you, heat naturally pooling between your thighs at the seductive sight of her on top of you.

"What-" your words are cut off by a desperate kiss, a moan escaping you as your mind clouds with arousal, the feeling of her pressing into you, her hands cupping your jaw in an attempt to deepen the passionate and messy kiss, enough to free you of your thoughts as you wanted.

It was similar for Wanda, her mind craving you to push away her thoughts, body begging for you. She needed you. She needed you to touch her, to caress her hips and body in that loving way, to replace the feeling of his large, selfish and over confident hands, to feel your soft and gentle lips claim hers over and over again, not his dry ones that made her feel nothing. She didn't enjoy his wet and wanting tongue, she wanted to chase your teasing lips, to hear that smug little groan you'd offer her at her sinful moans, she needed to feel pleasure crash through her body, not the disappointment that washed through her that night. It was you she needed, not him, she just didn't want to accept that.

"I need you," she sighs out against you lips, a string of saliva connecting them before you lean up to claim her addictive mouth once more, your hands moving to her hips, gently squeezing the soft skin and having her moan in pleasure and almost relief as she concentrated on the way your electric touch made her feel. She couldn't help herself as she ground her hips down against you, sparks of pleasure and arousal building in her abdomen as she moaned and gasped into the heated kiss, your hands guiding her desperate movements as you naturally took control, something the brunette adored about you. You were always in control but also always caring, dominant and soft most of the time but rougher when you knew she could handle it. You knew how to read her body, to tease her and give her what she wanted, unlike Vision.

"Yeah?" you husk out in that smug voice, tone lowering and hands sliding lower down her body, appreciation and adoration in all of your touches, despite how sinful they were, as your fingers ghosted over the edge of her skirt, letting it hitch up slowly. You can't help but think back to the way his hands did the same to her, how his fingers slipped under to reach the soft skin of her thighs as yours did now, your touch faltering as you slide them off her inner thighs, going back to her hips. You try to ignore the unwanted thought as she lets you slide your tongue into her mouth, effortlessly controlling the kiss whilst your hands continue to guide her movements, her clit brushing against her soaked panties with every desperate rut of her hips. "Show me how much you need me," you murmur against her lips, her sinful sighs pushing the memory away briefly before you bite down on her lower lip, soothing the dull pain with your tongue, the brunette's body burning with desire and lust at your teasing actions, her hips rolling against your hips with more vigour, desperate to feel the pleasure building in her to overpower her.

"Fuck," she groans out when on of your hands slide under her shirt, nails scratching against the impossibly soft skin at her stomach, the sensation causing her muscles to tense as a small amount of pain mixes with pleasure. "Please," she whispers, tone pleading whilst her hands leave your jaw, threading through your hair and scratching at your scalp, needing you to do more.

The action however stops you, your mind once again returning to the memory, remembering the same way she let her fingers slide through his blonde, how she pulled his head closer to deepen the kiss, disgust filling you at the unwanted thoughts that followed. Did she do this when he fucked her too? Tug on his hair like she does with you when you push her over the edge over and over again? It sickened you, the mere thought of them, making you break the kiss off, uncomfortable with what was going on. You needed to know what you meant to her, what the two of you were.

"Wanda, stop," you croaked out, your hands stilling her hips as her mouth ghosted over yours, her body pulling back immediately at your tone, the lustful look in her enchanting green dissipating into concern.

"What's wrong?" she whispers, eyes searching yours as her fingers brush some of your hair back affectionately, only further increasing the confusion stirring inside you at her tenderness.

"What are we?" you ask, vulnerability swirling in your eyes as you look up at her, her body still on top of yours, her brows furrowing at your question.

"What?" her tone acts confused as she avoids your gaze, a harrowing sense of dread filling her at what she thinks you mean, not wanting to talk about what the two of you were. She wanted you, she knew deep down that was all she wanted, but she couldn't. You were wrong for her, something to be ashamed of. Her love for you was shameful. She just wanted to be normal.

"What are we doing?" You ask, keeping your gaze on her as you whisper the words, scared to hear the answer but needing to know whether she cared about you. "I saw you and Vision at the party..." your words trail off at the way her eyes instantly snap back to you, guilt and something undecipherable washing over her face whilst you continue, "I just- I thought we were-" you cut yourself off with sighs, not wanting to say what you mean, too scared to be rejected.

"Were what?" her tone hardened slightly, scared you were going to say something that would make her confront herself, a small part of her hoping you'd still say you were something more. She crushed the small glimmer of hope just as fast it came, her reluctance to be like that too powerful. She wasn't one of them. No, she was going to be normal. She was going to have Vision and he was going to give her everything she'd need to fit in.

"I thought you cared," you murmur in a quiet voice, the small tone of your voice creating a dull ache in her chest, her features softening momentarily before confliction etched its way onto her face.

"I do care," she sighs out, trying to figure out how to unravel her messy thoughts and put them into a sentence, her hands moving to brush her own hair back in a stressed manner, her head looking away from you to try and distance herself momentarily. "What we are is... casual," she says after a moment, a nauseous feeling stirring inside her at saying the words, knowing that they weren't true. She was just making another excuse, coming up with another stupid reason to not have that conversation with you.

You scoff at her words, feeling the bottled up anger from the last few days seep into your veins, your gaze conveying your irritation at her as she meets your gaze, her fingers anxiously playing with one another at your reaction.

"You know that's not true," your tone matching her provoked one, shaking your head in disbelief as she looks away from you, trying her best to not let you see the tears threatening to spill as she tries to stop the feelings towards you.

"We agree on this being casual, no strings attached," Wanda manages out, the brunette biting down on her lower lip to stop it trembling as she builds up the courage to look at you, preparing for the pain that would envelope her heart at the idea of hurting you.

"But Wanda-" you try, wanting to argue that this was never just casual, the two of you always having been drawn together.

"No," she interrupts, not willing to hear you out. "We agreed on that and-" she pauses, hesitating over her own words which only disproves her point, "Nothing has changed for me. If it's changed for you we need to call this off."

Her words pierce your heart, the usual playful look in your eyes replaced with a blank stare as you looked behind her at the lake, forcing yourself to keep it together and suffer in silence whilst contemplating your answer. You should tell her the truth, break off the arrangement to stop any more pain for the both of you, but you were selfish. Having her like this, just a little bit, was more important to you than not having her at all.

"No," you whisper out, clearly not meaning the words as you answer her, "Nothing's changed."

"Good," her tone is shaky as she mutters the word, not having it in her to call out your blatant lie.

Once the two of you grew silent, you realised she was still on your lap, the brunette moving off you swiftly and apologetically before sitting next to you, not leaning her head on your shoulder as she usually would, simply staring out at the scenery in front of her as she truly grasped how hard it was going to be to stop the way she felt towards you.

She'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling.

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xanasaurusrex · 9 months

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hi, i love how you write, could you please write some clarisse x daughter of hephaestus drabble? like some love triangle kind hephaestus, aphrodite and ares, but the sapphic version with ares and hephaestus, please ♡

clarisse and hephaestus!daughter hiding their relationship clarisse la rue x hephaestus!daughter!reader a/n: hi!! thank you sm for reading my other stuff, and yes ofc! so this was originally meant to be a drabble, but as you can see from the word count i got carried away. i had an idea and then i just kept writing it, and i couldn't stop. honestly clarisse x hephaestus!daughter is a favorite pairing of mine i love ares children with hephaestus children! ok thanks sm for requesting, i hope i did your request justice! warnings: enemies to lovers, weird transition from enemies to lovers, making out, mentions of getting stabbed, mention of weapons, secret relationship wc: 2k+

a child of ares and a child of hephaestus getting together isn't impossible, and also definitely not unheard of, but it's also definitely not common.

ares kids and hephaestus kids have a sort of natural rivalry that they're sort of inducted into from the second they're claimed.

since hephaestus is married to aphrodite, and yet aphrodite is having a longstanding affair with ares, hephaestus kids tend to not trust ares kids very much.

that was how it was for clarisse and y/n for quite a while.

their relationship was as hostile as any other relationship between a hephaestus kid and an ares kid, but they just felt drawn to each other. there was just something there that they couldn't deny.

everything changed the day they first kissed. they had gotten into an argument after clarisse claimed that the armor that y/n had made for her was faulty.

y/n claimed this was 100% untrue, because she had made it herself, and she didn't half-ass armor making.

it was late in the day, early evening. y/n had finished her dinner early, since there was a sword that she had to have finished within the next two days, the production of which she was still very behind on.

clarisse had caught up with her and cornered her in the forge, and started making the angry accusations.

"the straps are loose, and the whole thing almost fell off me while i was getting stabbed at. i call that faulty, y/n," clarisse sneered.

y/n scowled at clarisse. "then you must've knocked them loose or something, because i know for a fact that i fastened on those straps myself, and they were not loose," there was a fierceness in her voice that would've made anyone else fall back, but only made clarisse get further in her face.

"they were loose, and i almost died because of it!" clarisse snapped back.

y/n rolled her eyes as she went to put her mallet back from pounding down on the metal to create the sword shape. "come on, clarisse, stop being so dramatic. you were in the sword practice area, you wouldn't have died,"

"you don't know that!"

"yes i do!"

the two paused their arguing and stared at each other. there had always been something electric between the two of them, that was something nobody was able to deny, not even the two of them.

after a few seconds of the stare down, clarisse surged forward, her feet stomping loudly on the ground of the forge as she pushed y/n up against the wall. her nostrils were flaring, and her eyes were full of fire.

and as much as she hated it, clarisse couldn't help but look down at y/n's lips.

they looked so deliciously kissable, and yet they were pulled into a sneer at clarisse. she did everything she could to banish the temptation to kiss y/n right now, because that was so not what was going to happen.

"get... off me," y/n breathed out, panting heavily. her teeth were clenched, and her eyes closed tightly, as if warding off unwelcome thoughts.

clarisse could understand the feeling.

clarisse didn't move. the two of them stayed where they were, eyes flicking between their lips and back up to the other's eyes.

eventually y/n closed her eyes again, tigher this time, saying, "clarisse, you need to get off me and leave or something is going to happen,"

clarisse stayed where she was.

the two of them continued to stare at each other for a few seconds, their breaths speeding up and hitting each other in the face, hot and harsh.

everything changed within the span of about two seconds.

surprisingly, it was y/n who surged forward first, her hands grabbing onto clarisse's face and pulling it close to hers, their lips making contact.

the second their lips touched, they both knew that their relationship would never be the same again. they weren't exactly sure how, because there was a good chance that they would just act like this never happened.

but right there, in the moment, they wanted to enjoy it as much as they could.

clarisse's hands found themselves snaking around y/n's waist, holding her tight and pulling the two of them closer together. y/n moved her hands from cradling clarisse's face to wrapping her arms around her neck.

the air in the camp forge felt hotter than y/n had ever experienced it being, and she knew it had nothing to do with the fires raging in the hearths, and much more to do with the daughter of ares, who was currently pressed up against her, kissing her with so much fervor it was making her dizzy.

they both pulled away for a millisecond with the intention of getting some air before going back in, both of them feeling hungry for the other, when of course, an interruption struck.

"y/n!" a voice called from the distance.

they both shoved away from each other dramatically, y/n accidentally banging her hip as she tried to jump backwards, unaware that she was as far back as she could go. they made eye contact for a few more seconds, staring into each other's eyes with the kind of intensity that would even make the gods quiver.

"y/n!" the voice called out again, causing y/n to avert her eyes from clarisse, being worried that if she looked at her for even a second more, she wouldn't be able to look away.

when the voice finally entered the forge, it was revealed to be one of her siblings, looking for her for advice on something to do with a weapon they made.

when y/n's brother entered the forge, he could immediately feel the tension in the space. he shrank unto himself, noticing that clarisse, the widely known volatile daughter of ares, and his older sister, who had a rather funny look on her face. come to think of it, clarisse had the same funny look on her face. like they'd been caught doing something they shouldn't have, but that couldn't be. he couldn't even fathom a thing they would be doing together that would be wrong.

he then saw clarisse's caught expression morph into one of anger. she snapped to get y/n's attention, before saying with as much conviction as she could muster, "just make sure the next armor isn't faulty. i would prefer not to die, and even if i did, i'm sure you don't want it to be your fault,"

and even though this was clarisse who was talking, there was less conviction in her voice than she had hoped. in fact, it almost sounded a little weak. like she was out of breath. which she most definitely was not. no way did a simple kiss rob her of her breath.

(it most definitely did)

y/n stumbled through walking her younger brother through what he had asked, only half focusing on his questions and giving half-thought out answers. she knew she was going to regret that when he tried to forge whatever it was he was wanting to create the next day, but at the moment, y/n couldn't find it in herself to care.

she had just kissed clarisse la rue, and she was sure it had been the best kiss of her life. granted, there hadn't been many, but she couldn't imagine another kiss topping the one she had just experienced.

there was only one problem.

the best kiss of her life had been with... who it had been with.

the next week was particularly awkward between the two. the usual animosity that had come to be expected at camp half blood between an ares child and a hephaestus child was absent between the two, and instead they avoided each other at all costs.

y/n spent most of her time in the forge, crafting anything but the specific style of armor that she knew clarisse favored, and instead found herself self-consciously forging beautiful spears that, despite the expert craftsmanship, she knew would never rival the spear that clarisse's father had given her.

her siblings were becoming increasingly worried about her, since she hardly ever left the forge. when she did, she seemed preoccupied, and irritated about something. they had asked what was going on, but she had refused to disclose anything.

similarly, clarisse was doing everything she could to keep y/n out of her head as well.

she hardly ever left the training fields. she was singing dummies with her magical spear left and right, day and night. specifically the first day after the kiss, people would see clarisse violently taking down whole fleets of dummies within seconds, and were hesitant to train that particular day.

clarisse took more breaks than y/n did, mostly because she wasn't able to spend every waking moment at the training areas, partially because her body wouldn't allow it, and also the harpies that patrolled the camp at night weren't particularly fond of it. if clarisse had the energy to fight them off, she might've attempted it, but considering she spent most of her days training her body in an attempt to train her mind away from thinking about y/n, all that she could really do was sleep.

over time, though, the two of them were forced together in certain situations.

since they were both the heads of their respective cabins, whenever the counselors of each cabin were needed, they needed to be in the same room, and they had to be accustomed to that.

they were also shoved together quite a lot when their campers got into tousles, which happened quite often considering the animosity that was practically drilled into their heads from the second they were claimed and put in their right cabins.

to say that their relationship was complicated would be a gross understatement.

there was something that drew the two together, often finding themselves in situations that could rarely be explained.

like the time about a month after the forge incident (that neither of them had told anyone about) when they both went to the bathroom at the same time unknowingly, and found themselves mere centimeters from each other.

"do you ever think about it?" clarisse asked. it occurred to her that she had no memory of getting this close to y/n, but she wasn't really complaining.

before the kiss they at least interacted. it was mostly negative, with the two yelling at each other or complaining about the other for whatever reason, but they were near each other quite often due to this. after the kiss, and after the two started avoiding each other like a damn hellhound, that clarisse was really missing her company.

she was starting to think that maybe she had only ever bickered with y/n to get the scraps of her attention that she was desperate for.

there were times when this sounded like a completely logical explanation, and there were also times when clarisse had this thought and she forced herself to banish it, telling herself that she didn't need y/n's attention. why would she? they had never been friends, had never even really been acquaintances.

and yet, throughout a lot of clarisse's life, y/n had been one of the only constants.

the first day clarisse showed up at camp half blood, she was there, welcoming her. though clarisse had been rather hostile to her that day, which now that she thinks about it, may have been what caused their more intense rivalry, y/n still insisted on showing her around the camp, showing her all of her personal favorite spots.

"think about what?" the sound of y/n's voice broke clarisse from her trance, and brought her back to the present.

clarisse blinked once, and then y/n was in focus again. clarisse sharply inhaled at really seeing y/n up close, seeing all the intricate details of her face.

she was sure she had never seen anything so beautiful.

"the kiss," clarisse clarified. her fingers, as if with a mind of their own, began seeking out y/n's fingers. "because i do," she murmured. the tips of their pointer fingers touched, and it was as if electricity zinged up their spines. "i don't really want to," clarisse admitted, her head turning to the side as she did everything she could to avoid looking y/n in the eyes. "but i do. i can't help it."

y/n cleared her throat, utterly shocked at clarisse's admission "sometimes... sometimes i think about it, too," she confessed. "o-occasionally,"

the two were silent for a few seconds, before clarisse finally gathered up the courage to look y/n in the eye again. the eye contact was searing, and intense, and before they knew it, the two were leaning closer to each other.

there was no denying it anymore, since they had both admitted it.

they didn't know what happened, when it happened, or even why it happened, but there was something between them. something that was magnetic and uncontrollable... and somewhat addicting.

they were milliseconds away from kissing. their lips were just barely grazing, when the sound of voices startled the two apart.

as electric as the two of them felt around each other, they both knew that this was the sort of situation they didn't want to be caught in.

this need to not be caught like this was only furthered when it was a group of aphrodite girls that walked into the bathroom, looking at the two of them curiously, instantly clocking how close the two were standing. they obviously noted the taut tension in the room, and clarisse and y/n watched as the girls' eyes flitted between the two of them, their previous conversation having come to a halt.

clarisse, so fast y/n wasn't sure she hadn't just disappeared into thin air, turned around and slammed the stall door behind her, locking it with a heavy click.

y/n was left there with a shocked expression on her face, staring at the aphrodite girls, looking a lot like a deer caught in headlights.

she hesitated for only a second more before pushing past them and leaving the bathroom all together. she felt slightly guilty about leaving clarisse in there, but she was the one who had abandoned her first, so she didn't feel too bad about it.

after this, everything changed for clarisse and y/n.

they started meeting up in secret to spend time with each other away from camp. this spending time with each other consisted of talking together, laughing together, and yes... kissing.

it took a while for them to become official, but when they did, they both found themselves happier than they had been in a while.

it was noticeable, too. almost everyone at camp, chiron and mr. d included, that the two were acting... happier.

there was just something in the air around the two of them. whenever they were close to each other, it felt like the air became electric. no one could really place what was happening, since y/n. and clarisse had decided to keep their relationship a secret... at least for the start.

it was a complicated decision they made. people often forget that camp half blood is a large collection of teenagers. and teenagers like to gossip.

it's not exactly uncommon for two demigods to get together, and then everyone has something to say about it, which puts a strain on the new relationship.

it was y/n who suggested the idea.

"i just think... i want to enjoy this," she said while twirling a strand of clarisse's hair around her finger. she adjusted herself where her back was leaned against the rough bark of the tree in the woods at camp. clarisse was laying down as well, with her head in y/n's lap. "i mean, you've seen what happens. everybody has their own opinion, and then they get into fights and then they break up," y/n took a deep breath. "i really don't want that to happen to us,"

clarisse was quiet for a minute, her eyes flitting around at the trees and leaves and branches above her head. "okay," she said. "i don't want that to happen to us either. i want to enjoy us," she said.

y/n smiled, leaning down to give her a kiss on the forehead. she started to lean back up, but clarisse kept hold of her cheeks and pulled her down for a kiss on the lips. they both smiled into it, giggling slightly, enjoying being the teenage girls that they are.

so there they sat, enjoying each other's presence. enjoying being in love, although they hadn't said those three large words quite yet, but they would before long.

because the gods knew that these two were hopelessly in love with each other, and were going to be together for quite a while.

#percy jackson #clarisse la rue #clarisse larue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse larue x reader #clarisse la rue imagine #clarisse la rue x you #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue fluff #clarisse la rue enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers #❛ xanasaurusrex ༉‧₊˚

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in-sufficientdata · 2 months

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ID: Bluesky post by Ro Salarian (@RoSalarian.bsky.social):

I often wonder if abusive people are drawn to the arts, or if a certain amount of notoriety just makes people turn to shit. I am involved in a lot of different art scenes, and every single one has a whisper network about some big names who nobody feels they can address directly.

Kelly Barnhill (@KellyBarnhill.bsky.social) quotes this on July 10, 2024 at 6:47pm EST and responds:

Sexual predation is clearly not limited to the arts, and so-called "whisper networks" exist in every profession. And ultimately these networks always, always fail. They don't reach the most vulnerable and they don't ever remove the offender or prevent future harm. end ID.

At the source, the thread continues:

When I was growing up, I had a friend whose house had a bad stair - a nail sticking up on one side, and on the other side if you stepped wrong, the whole tread could flip up and send you flying backwards. We had to be told to avoid that stair. It was dangerous. We couldn't forget.

The trouble was, it looked like every other stair. Sometimes we did get hurt. This went on for years. Finally, one of the other parents in the neighborhood was like THE CHILDREN ARE GETTING INJURED and the whole "rule" of avoidance, of letting people know, was thrown out. They fixed the stair.

Now, this was dumb, of course. Who just has a stair that looks like every other stair but is boobytrapped in this bonkers way? Well, lots of people, as it turned out. And this wasn't so bad, as injuries go - a skinned knee or the occasional puncture wound.

Imagine if they had a stair that was, say, secretly filled with bees. Or poisoned. Or a one-way portal to one of the various realms of Hell. And it was there, like any other stair, looking benign. Maybe it was even fancied up - attracted the eye and tickled the fancy. A rock star stair. Well.

It's problematic, is my point. Leaving a danger in plain view is problematic. Simply relying on a network of people warning people and washing our hands of the whole affair is problematic. And worse, it abdicates responsibility. This is not how grown-ups should behave.

Part of the problem stems from the Myth of Male Genius - organizations twist themselves in knots to protect their access to whatever Male Genius they've tied their careers to, be they philosophers or physicists, conductors or or inventors, teachers or hotshot attorneys. We've all experienced this.

And while it's [notallmen] or [notonlymen] or whatever tagline you want to throw at me - yes, I know, and yes, I agree, and yes I'm certain that toxic and predatory women exist and have also harmed but I honestly can't think of any at the moment - it all stems from a central problematic fallacy:

Here's a toxic fallacy that I'd like to see dismantled: that genius is rare. That it must be protected at all costs. That it must be allowed to misbehave because the misbehavior is tied to genius in some fundamental way that none of us can understand because we are not geniuses. WRONG.

For every "rockstar author" or "rockstar artist" or "rockstar scientist" or "rockstar academic" there are a thousand others who are just as talented, just as transformative, just as consequential. And by ascribing godlike abilities to those who are more ordinary than we'd like to admit, we allow the person on that pedestal to become unglued from consequence and unhooked from the ties that are supposed to bind us to one another. This is a moral injury and an injury of empathy as well. So it's bad for the "rockstar". And holy hell is it bad for every person they injure. And worse, what about the "genius" of the victims? What about the dreams deferred and the paths upended because the world they've entered has decided to make itself unacceptably dangerous, unacceptably callous. A busted stair in the middle of the ascent in some young woman's career, left for no reason.

Here's what I know: genius isn't godlike or magical or even that rare. Genius is cultivated, nurtured, supported, delighted in. It happens in the context of a myriad of tiny boosts, too numerous to count and too subtle to name. It is as common as breath, and just as precious.

The reason why predatory men are lauded, protected, demurred to, is because we've told a story to ourselves that their genius is special, and have allowed ourselves to believe that the only way to become special ourselves is to bathe in its light, regardless of consequence.

Let's be done with that story. Cultivate more lights. Be the light.

And also? Let's fix that fucking stair, shall we?

#I love this thread #be the light #neil gaiman

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pixelnrd · 2 days

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Jasmine was working on a new PR crisis at work. The matter had been thrust upon her to manage and as she familiarised herself with the client she felt like they seemed somewhat familiar.

Upon heading to the photo studio to meet the client themselves, Jasmine realised that it was family, sitting in front of the blank canvas and arranging themselves. They were dressed for a stylised shoot that was designed to showcase their sophistication and wholesomeness in light of some negative publicity that had been recently thrust upon them. Jasmine was shocked, however, to see that one of their number was Andrew.

But of course it was Andrew - she reviewed the file and it suddenly all clicked. The Chen family were an old aristocratic family here on this side of the world. It had never occurred to her that Andrew belonged to that family. She felt silly the more she thought about it - he was well-spoken, he had never told him exactly what he did with himself other than manage a family business, he loved to play polo... but he was so down to earth, and never flaunted his status to her.

Jasmine went up to him after the shoot was done to say hello. Andrew seemed strained - he explained to her that his sister, Rebecca, a well-regarded socialite in the celebrity world, had recently had one too many negative articles written about her behaviour and it had drawn negative critique against the family as a whole. The firm was managing the crisis for them with a magazine article on how united and strong they were as a family.

'It's been... a headache, to say the least,' sighed Andrew, glaring at his sister. Jasmine noticed that Rebecca seemed less than friendly about the entire affair. But she did recall the many articles written about this girl, and the things she got up to. She felt for Andrew, having to publically lay himself out with his family for judgement.

'Don't worry,' smiled Jasmine. 'We'll make sure this goes away. I'm good at my job, you know. Thanks to you'. She realised that the reason Andrew must have pulled strings to get her here in the first place was because he was a paying client for the firm.

Andrew was grateful to her. And considering the favour he had done for her, he decided to shoot his shot once more with this beautiful woman.

'Perhaps I could take you out to dinner, as a thank you for all the hard work you'll be getting yourself into,' he said.

Jasmine felt awkward. He was asking her out. And she felt bad... she wished she could appropriately thank him for helping her in the past, but she had a boyfriend now. And things were serious.

'I'd love to but... I'm seeing someone,' she confessed. 'But maybe we can grab another coffee some time, once the dust has settled.'

#sims 4 decades challenge #ts4 decades challenge #sims 4 historical #ts4 historical #ts4 legacy #sims 4 legacy #the langston legacy #gen 11 #2000s #jasmine prescott jones

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estapa-edwards · 5 months

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SCARED - J. HUGHES

paring: Jack Hughes x fem! reader

word count: 1.8k

requested? yes - jack being in love with quinn’s long time best friend like everyone knows but her. and he’s never tried to confess because he doesn’t think she likes him and didn’t want to mess up the friendship with quinn.

warnings: use of y/n.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

Jack sat across the room, stealing glances at Y/N as she laughed at something Quinn said. He couldn't help but admire the way her eyes sparkled with joy, the way her smile illuminated the room. She had been Quinn's best friend for years, and Jack had been drawn to her from the moment they met.

But he kept his feelings buried deep, hidden beneath the guise of friendship. He didn't dare confess his love for Y/N, fearing it would complicate things between him and Quinn. Their friendship was precious to him, and he couldn't bear the thought of jeopardizing it.

During the weekend getaway at the Michigan house, Jack found himself captivated by every moment spent in Y/N's presence. From the first evening when she arrived, her laughter echoed through the halls, drawing everyone closer like moths to a flame.

The first meal together was a casual affair, filled with chatter and laughter. Jack found himself sitting across from Y/N, stealing glances whenever he thought she wasn't looking. Her smile was infectious, lighting up the room and warming Jack's heart in a way he hadn't experienced before.

As the weekend unfolded, Jack and Y/N found themselves naturally gravitating towards each other. They took leisurely walks by the lake, the gentle lapping of the water providing a soothing backdrop to their conversations. With each step, Jack felt himself falling deeper under Y/N's spell, her easygoing nature putting him at ease.

Late-night conversations became the highlight of Jack's day. Whether they were huddled around the fireplace or sitting out on the porch under a blanket of stars, Jack found himself opening up to Y/N in ways he never had before. They shared stories, dreams, and secrets, forming a bond that felt as natural as breathing.

"So, tell me about your favorite childhood memory," Y/N prompted, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Jack chuckled, memories flooding back. "Well, there was this one time when I was seven, and I decided to build a fort in the backyard. I spent the whole day gathering sticks and blankets, and when I was finally done, it was the best fort in the whole neighborhood."

Y/N's laughter filled the room, music to Jack's ears. "That sounds amazing! I wish I could have seen it."

They talked long into the night, sharing childhood anecdotes, dreams for the future, and everything in between. With each passing moment, Jack felt himself opening up to Y/N in ways he never had before, a sense of ease settling over him like a warm embrace.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

On another night, they sat out on the porch under a blanket of stars, the gentle rustle of the wind the only sound breaking the stillness of the night. The sky above was a canvas painted with a thousand twinkling lights, a sight that never failed to awe Jack.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Y/N whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

Jack nodded, his gaze fixed on the heavens above. "It's breathtaking. Makes you realize how small we are in the grand scheme of things."

Y/N leaned closer, her presence comforting in the quiet of the night. "But it also reminds us of the beauty in simplicity, the moments that take our breath away."

As the weeks passed by, Jack and Y/N found themselves constantly staying in touch, their messages and calls becoming a regular part of their daily routine. They laughed at each other's jokes, shared the mundane details of their days, and offered support and encouragement whenever it was needed.

Despite the undeniable connection between them, neither Jack nor Y/N dared to confess their feelings, not even to themselves. They danced around the truth, tiptoeing on the edge of something more, but always stopping short of taking the leap.

Yet, everyone around them seemed to sense the unspoken tension between Jack and Y/N. Quinn raised an eyebrow whenever Jack mentioned Y/N’s name, a knowing smile playing on her lips. Friends exchanged knowing glances whenever Jack and Y/N were in the same room, as if silently urging them to acknowledge the obvious.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

Jack sat on his bed, phone pressed to his ear, a smile playing on his lips as he listened to Y/N’s voice drift through the line.

Y/N: “…And then, can you believe it? I tripped over my own shoelaces in the middle of the street!”

Jack chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “Only you, Y/N. Only you could manage to turn something as simple as tying your shoelaces into a comedy routine.”

Y/N laughed, the sound like music to Jack’s ears. “Hey, you’ve gotta find humor in the little things, right?”

Their conversation flowed effortlessly, touching on everything from their favorite movies to their most embarrassing childhood memories. Jack found himself opening up to Y/N in ways he never had before, a sense of ease settling over him like a warm blanket.

Y/N: “So, what about you, Jack? Any exciting plans for the weekend?”

Jack hesitated for a moment, the truth lingering on the tip of his tongue. But instead, he opted for a nonchalant response. “Oh, you know, just the usual. Probably catch up on some reading and maybe hit the gym.”

Y/N: “Sounds like a blast,” she teased, her tone playful.

Just then, the sound of the door opening interrupted their conversation, and Jack’s heart skipped a beat.

Quinn: “Hey, Y/N, hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

Y/N’s voice brightened. “Not at all, Quinn. Just catching up with Jack.”

Jack’s mind raced as he tried to mask the sudden nervousness that washed over him. He knew Quinn had a knack for picking up on things, and the last thing he wanted was for her to suspect anything between him and Y/N.

Jack: “Hey, Quinn. How’s it going?”

Quinn: “Can’t complain. Just thought I’d drop by and say hi. Didn’t mean to interrupt your phone call.”

Y/N: “No worries, Quinn. It’s always good to hear from you.”

As Quinn joined them in the conversation, Jack couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief wash over him. He knew that his feelings for Y/N were still safely tucked away, hidden beneath the guise of friendship. But as he glanced at Y/N’s name flashing on his phone screen, he couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, there was something more waiting to be discovered between them.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

The arena buzzed with excitement as the Devils faced off against the Canucks in a highly anticipated match-up. Jack, clad in his Devils jersey, skated onto the ice with determination, his eyes focused on the puck as he prepared for the game ahead. Beside him, Quinn, sporting the Canucks colors, exchanged a competitive grin, ready to give it their all.

As the game progressed, the tension on the ice was palpable. Jack and Quinn clashed repeatedly, each vying for control of the puck and striving to outmaneuver the other. The crowd roared with every shot, every save, caught up in the intensity of the match.

But amidst the flurry of action, Jack's attention was drawn to the stands, where a familiar figure caught his eye. There, in the sea of cheering fans, stood Y/N, her face illuminated by a bright smile as she waved enthusiastically.

Jack's heart skipped a beat as he watched Y/N, his gaze lingering on her figure. She wore a unique jersey, half Devils red and half Canucks blue, a playful nod to the rivalry between the two teams. Jack couldn't help but grin at the sight, feeling a surge of affection for Y/N wash over him.

Quinn noticed Jack's distraction and followed his gaze, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as she caught sight of Y/N in the stands. He nudged Jack playfully, a knowing glint in his eye.

Quinn: "Looks like someone's got a fan in the stands."

Jack's cheeks flushed slightly as he tore his gaze away from Y/N, focusing back on the game at hand.

Jack: "Yeah, she's... supportive."

Quinn chuckled, his competitive spirit undiminished as he refocused his attention on the game. But Jack couldn't shake the image of Y/N from his mind, her presence in the stands serving as a reminder of the deeper feelings he harbored for her.

As the game wore on, Jack's determination only grew stronger. With Y/N's unwavering support fueling him, he pushed himself harder, skating faster, and shooting with precision. And when the final buzzer sounded, signaling the Devils' victory, Jack couldn't help but feel a swell of pride, knowing that Y/N had been there to witness his triumph.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

After weeks of dancing around their feelings, Jack and Y/N found themselves at a crossroads. The tension between them had reached a breaking point, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air whenever they were together. And one fateful evening, as they sat on the porch under a blanket of stars, the weight of their emotions became too much to bear.

The silence between them was deafening, the only sound the soft rustle of the wind as it swept through the trees. Jack's heart raced in his chest as he stole a glance at Y/N, her profile illuminated by the moonlight.

Jack: "Y/N, there's something I need to tell you."

Y/N turned to him, her eyes searching his face for any sign of what was to come. "What is it, Jack?"

Jack took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly as he prepared to lay bare his heart and soul. "I... I've been holding back for so long, afraid of ruining our friendship, but I can't keep it in any longer. I'm in love with you, Y/N. I have been for as long as I can remember."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding in her chest as she processed Jack's words. She had suspected, had felt the same longing in her own heart, but hearing Jack confess his feelings aloud sent a shiver down her spine.

Y/N: "Jack, I... I don't know what to say."

Jack's heart sank at the uncertainty in Y/N's voice, fearing he had made a mistake in laying his feelings bare. But before he could utter another word, Y/N reached out and took his hand in hers, her touch sending a jolt of electricity through him.

Y/N: "I've been holding back too, Jack. Afraid of losing our friendship, of what might happen if I admitted how I feel. But the truth is, I'm in love with you too."

Jack's eyes widened in disbelief, his heart soaring with a joy he had never known. In that moment, everything else faded away—their fears, their doubts, their uncertainties—leaving only the two of them, bathed in the glow of the moonlight and the warmth of their newfound love.

And as they leaned in to share their first kiss, Jack knew that some risks were worth taking, especially when it came to matters of the heart. For in Y/N's arms, he had found everything he had ever been searching for, and more.

#hockey #nhl x reader #new jersey devils #nj devils #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader

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scarletcomalies · 1 year

Text

when the storm subsides

WandaNat x Fem Reader

Word count: 4,367

Warnings: 18+ content, neglect, stimulation, edging, spanking, degradation, humiliation, praising, masturbation, oral (w. and r receiving), strap-on (r. receiving), face riding (w. receiving), squirting, fluffy ending. Mommy!Wanda and Daddy!Nat.

You had taken real pains to make your little affair with Wanda Maximoff something more. The day you gave up, you gained more than you thought you'd lose.

It was one of those nights when you felt alone in a crowded room. The noise of the people around you only intensified the feeling of isolation.

You looked around, searching for a familiar face, but even the only face you knew seemed like a stranger. You wished for her to talk to you, to share your thoughts, but the fear of another rejection or being misunderstood kept you from reaching out.

With Wanda Maximoff, you began to feel increasingly defeated in your attempts to catch her attention. Despite going out of your way to make conversation and engage with her, you found that her eyes and interest were always drawn to others who spoke to her. Over time, you began to question whether your efforts were worth it, or if you should simply move on and focus your attention elsewhere.

The conversation among the people present revolved around materialistic things. They bragged about their properties, discussed how much their sales had risen in the past months and shared their plans to increase them even more. You noticed that most of them were middle-aged, almost like the woman sitting beside you.

It was surprising to realize that your beloved powerful witch, who possessed a higher state of consciousness, had these friends who were evidently blinded by ambition and were very poor in spirit.

One particular woman made you feel insecure. Throughout the whole evening, she seemed to be in between you and the woman you loved so much. It was as if she knew how to project her confidence and charm in just the right way to make you feel inferior, and she was succeeding. Wanda laughed louder than usual at her jokes, she touched the other woman's forearm or leg at every opportunity, and this other woman at the same time would give you a teasing look whenever you were ignored by Wanda. You felt like you were constantly competing with her, even though you knew deep down that it was a battle you could never win.

The last straw was when she spoke to Wanda's ear, and when her eyes fell on you, she gave you a teasing wink. This small gesture was enough to make your blood boil.

"Wanda, I wanna go," you protested in the Sokovian's ear, once the woman you knew as Natasha Romanoff finally turned away from her. "I'm bored, and this whole evening you've barely turned to look at me."

"They're my friends from High School, do you have any idea how long I haven't seen them? Please let me enjoy this moment."

You tried to put on a brave face and hide your disappointment, but it was hard. You had hoped that this evening would be a chance to meet Wanda’s friends, perhaps connect with her in a more meaningful way, but instead, you felt like an outsider.

"Why did you invite me here if it was to have me as a seat filler? You should have come alone," you snapped. "And alone you will go."

You took your bag and rose from your seat at the dinner table. Before leaving, you made sure to say thank you to the hostess for her hospitality, which was ironic given that the hostess was none other than the red-haired woman.

You decided to go to the bathroom upstairs, and take a moment to yourself before making your way home. Even the bathroom was as large as the main bedroom in an ordinary house. But of course it was Wanda's wealthy friends, they somehow felt the need to live in such an unnecessarily large mansion even if they were by their own.

It was all so difficult.

Wanda would treat you as her special girl, the best thing in her life, but only when you were pleasuring her at that time. It was during moments like these that you realized that her affirmations were not sincere, at least not outside of the carnal area.

Maybe this was a sign. Wanda did not see you in the way you desired: as someone willing to give not only your body, but your soul as well. You didn’t simply want her to hold you after she's finished using you for her own pleasure; you wanted her to count on you on her worst days. You wanted to be the first person she thought of when she wanted to share anything at all. You longed to be included in her plans, to be part of her daily activities, no matter how banal they were.

You had been trying so hard to impress her, for example, with new outfits, but it seemed like she just didn’t care unless she took them off you right after. You felt like you have done everything you possibly could, but it was still not enough. She gave you so many signs that maybe you were not the right person for her, at least not emotionally. She may have enjoyed being intimate with you, nothing beyond that. In the end, this was partially your fault, or at least you felt that way. You were too much of a non-conformist, and that could have been part of the problem, as you expected more from what Wanda was willing to offer.

You tried to hold back the tears were very close to spill from your eyes. You had hoped that things would be eventually be different with Wanda, that she would see you and love you for who you were, but it all pointed to the fact that you were just another accessory for her to show off.

You spent about ten minutes in there, trying to build up the courage to face Wanda and cut all ties with her before she could hurt you again.

But you knew it was in vain, when you heard a few knocks on the door. You knew it was Wanda, and you realized that you would melt into those green eyes as soon as you opened that door.

To your surprise, it was not Wanda who stood on the other side of the door. It was the woman who was the main reason of your mental breakdown.

You gulped slightly.

At least with Wanda, you knew what to expect. But with this woman, you had no idea.

"What's the matter, little girl, are you in the middle of a tantrum because your Mommy ignored you?" Her voice was soft and gentle, but it had a mocking tone.

"I know this makes you happy. Just with little touches she seemed to be whoring herself out to you, so be my guest," you were about to get out of there, resigned to the fact that it would be a long drive home where you would have to invoke every divine force in existence to protect you from an accident from driving in this state.

You were about to exit the bathroom, but she quickly raised her arm to create a barrier to stop you from passing.

"I wanted to get her attention, yes, but also yours,” she confessed. “She is very busy, and may not have the time to give you the care you deserve. That's where I come in."

Your eyes widened like plates, demonstrating how taken aback you were. Natasha was stunningly beautiful, so it was easy for you to be left in awe.

And it was as if your body made an action of its own, disconnecting itself from your brain, when you automatically tugged at the lapel of her jacket and your lips crashed with hers.

She responded eagerly, your mouth opening to allow her tongue to explore the depths of your cavity. It was a battle that neither you or her seemed to win, it was just an endless exchange of kisses, each one deeper and more intense than the last.

"Take me to your room," you spoke between gasps. She pulled away briefly to look into your eyes, and Natasha's sharp nails prickled your skin as she grabbed your cheeks a bit too hard.

"I'm not taking you to my room, I'm taking you to a room," she corrected, and released you roughly.

The room in question was still dim, illuminated only by a soft red glow that emanated from some led lights that were placed on the ceiling and the floor respectively. As your eyes adjusted to the light, the first thing you saw was a queen size bed in the center of the room, its sheets and blankets neatly made. In front of the bed, almost taking up the entire wall, was a large mirror. It reflected the red light in a way that made it seem as though the mirror itself was on fire. You understood immediately why Natasha would chose to put such a large and ostentatious mirror in her bedroom.

Natasha closed the door behind you, and suddenly, she grabbed you by the neck, her sharp nails digging into your skin again. Initially, the pain caused you to gasp, but then you realized that you loved the sensation of her touch.

Finally, she placed her hand in that area and pushed you backwards until you were pinned against the wall next to the bed.

Everything about Natasha was intoxicating, from the way she moved to the way she spoke. She always maintained a neutral tone, which differed from her harsh and straightforward actions. Though you didn’t complained, you knew at this point that actions spoke higher than words.

She pulled up the fabric of your dress, which reached a little above your knees. When it was sufficiently lifted, she slid it up your waist, your torso, and your arms, which you lifted by inertia. Finally, the garment was on the floor, leaving you only in your shoes and bra. And no, you weren't wearing any panties, which was the first thing the redhead noticed.

"What a nasty little bitch you are," she snapped, shaking her head. "I was going to be nice to you, but a whore like you deserves no mercy,” you could feel her staring at you, taking in every inch of your body.

She placed her hand on your chest to keep you in place, and she bent down to reach the drawer next to the bed. Subsequently, she pulled out a rope from there.

The redhead then ordered you to sit with your back resting on the bed headboard, only to take your wrists with a peculiar aggressiveness, and tied them in such a way that there was no way you could defend yourself.

It was very evident that she cared very little about your feelings. She had a deliberate intention to establish herself as your superior, and you were only a subordinate who followed her orders. The most frustrating part of this all was that you could feel the heat between your legs growing with each passing second, for you were completely at her mercy.

She then kissed you with an intense and almost animalistic hunger that left you breathless. You could feel the pressure of her lips against yours, and every once in a while, she would bite down on your lower lip with a strength that made you gasp in pleasure.

Her mouth slowly descended onto your neck, the warmth of her breath making you feel vulnerable. You felt like she had known you for years, like she had done this before, because she knew all of your weaknesses perfectly. It was as if she was reading your mind, knowing exactly what you wanted and needed, as if she had been given a detailed instruction on how to treat you, as if someone else had shared your deepest desires and secrets with her.

Her fingers made their way all over your body, until she reached that weak spot that was desperately throbbing for her.

"Ahhh… fuck y-yes!" You exclaimed, arching your back after feeling an exquisite electric current run from this area, all the way up to your stomach.

“Needy and foul-mouted,” she giggled. Her touch was gentle yet insistent, bringing you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.

Her movements became more deliberate, more focused, and you could notice the desire building within her as well. With each circular motion of her fingers, you felt yourself falling deeper and deeper under her spell, lost in a world of pure pleasure.

The redhead continued to caress and stimulate you, making it evident that the pleasure of your body was her top priority at the moment. Her fingers felt more and more lubricated with your fluids, making you a mess of moans that was almost humiliating. However, you didn’t care, everything was perfect, the intensity just right.

As you gazed into the mirror, you could see your own reflection staring back at you. You let out shameless moans as Natasha was above you with her head buried in your neck. Your arms were positioned above your head, your wrists bound to the headboard. All whilst Natasha's right hand was actively touching you, heightening the pleasure you were experiencing.

Your body began to tense up even more, and the heat rose to your cheeks, it was too much to bear that you could feel a lump forming in your throat. You knew you were on the verge of the climax. Despite the fact that she had not yet inserted her fingers, the older woman had managed to stimulate you in all the right places with just her touch alone.

"Mmm, someone's going to cum," the woman said, her eyes fixed on your body's reaction. "But I told you I wouldn't have mercy on you."

She withdrew her fingers.

“No! No! No!” You exclaimed desperately, your tone carried all the disbelief and frustration you were feeling. This woman was twisted and evil, how could she?

As she got out of bed, you hoped she would grab something to provide some relief, but your hopes were dashed as she exited the room, leaving you laying there angry and unsatisfied.

You then noticed the mirror across the room, which suddenly took on a different hue. Your heart sank as you realized you could see what -or rather who- was on the other side.

To your shock, it was a see-thru mirror! And on the other side was Wanda. She was lying on a similar bed, completely naked and not tied up like you. She appeared to have just achieved her first orgasm, unlike you who had not reached that point yet.

So Wanda had seen it all.

You didn’t know how to feel, whether furious or aroused, as you realized that you had been manipulated by both women.

As Wanda disappeared from view, you were left alone to contemplate the situation. But your thoughts were interrupted when the door opened to reveal Wanda dressed in a bridal robe, and Natasha was standing next to her, grabbing her by the waist.

They were both stunning in their own way, Natasha seemed tough and was indeed tough, on the other side, Wanda held a sweet façade that could be easily shattered into a sadistic being. This has happened on several occasions, and given the expression on her face, this could be one of those occasions.

"Look at your slutty little girl, letting me fuck her without your permission. What are you going to do, Miss Maximoff?" Natasha provoked her, and those words were of great terror to you.

As you stood there, she silently approached you with a determined look in her eyes. Her jaw was tight, and with each step, her face grew more intense.

You expected the worst to happen, since you were in a situation that was perfect for her to do whatever she wanted to do to you, without you being able to defend yourself.

However, she reached out and released the ties that bound you to the bed.

She proceeded to remove your bra and heels, and grabbed you until you were on all fours. It was a rough maneuver that left you feeling exposed and vulnerable to both women. As she knelt behind you, you could feel the fabric of her dressing gown brush against your skin.

She leaned forward, and grabbed your arms to place them behind you to tie you up again.

You heard the door close again, and you knew it was Natasha who did it. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves and think clearly.

Wanda's hand caressed the skin of your ass, her touch was firm as you have always known it.

“Look at how pathetic she is, surrendering herself at just a simple touch,” she addressed Natasha, and the latter hummed in agreement.

Wanda stopped stroking you and you felt her palm drop hard, spanking you aggressively.

It was clear that Wanda was angry, and you could sense that she was taking it out on you. Her intentions were obvious from the way she was acting.

“No, she deserves worse,” Natasha commented, and before you could even question what it was, you felt a whip with a thick belt. It surprised you, but instead of pain, it brought a tingling sensation throughout your body.

“Count!” Wanda grabbed a handful of your hair and tugged on it. You started to think that she believed that harsh treatment instead of simple words was the only way to get through to you.

As you looked up, you noticed that Natasha was watching the scene intently. .

You closed your eyes willingly this time, and braced yourself for the whip, “One!”

When you sensed another whip coming, you took the deepest breath your body could allow you at that instant. "Aahh, t-two," you squeaked this time.

You could also hear moaning in the distance, that's when you realized this was something of a spectacle for Natasha’s pleasure as well.

"Three," all this was sweet agony, and you were drawn into a darkest part of your psyche that surrendered to this most pleasurable sensation.

“Four…” your fists were clenching behind your back.

“Five…” you jumped, this was perhaps the strongest one.

“Six…” your legs weakened, and Wanda held your hips to keep you in place.

“Seven…” a couple of tears started welling up in your eyes.

“Eight…” your voice could barely be heard.

“Nine…”

“Ten…”

She stopped, and turned you over so that you could be facing her. In the midst of all the anger and lust her green irises projected, you could find a hint of appreciation in them.

With your legs spread a little wide around her waist, she removed her dressing gown, finally giving you access to a view of her beautiful body.

She untied your wrists.

Finally, you were free to touch her as you had so longed to do. She leaned over you, kissing you deeply and passionately, her lips lingering on yours before moving down to explore your jawline and neck. Her kisses were hot and intense, and you let small gasps of satisfaction as she trailed her lips and tongue over your skin.

But the pleasure didn't stop there. She descended on your breasts, licking and sucking your nipples with a fierce intensity that left you writhing with delight. As she mercilessly pinched one nipple, she ran her hot tongue over the other, alternating every once in a while.

And then you glanced at Natasha, watching from an armchair a few feet away, naked and touching herself as she watched the scene unfold. The sight of her only added to the intensity of the moment, as the wetness between your legs grew more intense.

Her lips pressed against your belly, leaving a trail of fiery kisses behind. As she moved lower, her mouth found the spot where you needed her the most, and her tongue sent electric waves of delectation throughout your body.

“Mmm… right- right there!” Your voice was unintentionally raspy, as you placed your legs on her shoulders and tangled your fingers in her hair, pushing her head slightly as you were grinding yourself shamelessly on her face. “Yes, Mommy!”

“Fuck…” Natasha’s voice made itself present, as her moans joined yours in a choir-like manner.

You watched her intently, noticing in awe as her long, drenched and shiny fingers were coming in and out of her cunt in an exquisite rhythm.

“Daddy’s about to cum,” Natasha groaned, as her movements increased.

The tension that had been building inside you was finally released, as you cried out Wanda’s name. You lost yourself in the sensations that only she could bring, and the wetness that had been building inside you was finally released in a rush of intense pleasure.

"Oh, my good girl," Wanda mused, and you subsequently noticed that Natasha had finished shortly after you.

She bent down again to clean up the mess she had made of you, but Natasha spoke up, "No, let me finish what I started," she got up from the chair, and walked over to you both.

She grabbed Wanda by her jawline and planted a deep kiss on her lips, so that Natasha could have a taste of you as well. She looked at you, "Malyshka, do you think your Mommy deserves a reward for pleasuring you?"

“Yes, Daddy,” you nodded, eager to accept with whatever was coming.

Wanda smiled widely, “So good for us. I told you, she’s a good girl,” she praised you.

She shifted, and carefully, knelt just above your face. She slowly dropped her full weight on you. You were able to taste her hot fluids in a matter of seconds, and you set to work on her.

You felt something new ramming your insides, and that made you tense in response. This was nothing like you had taken from Wanda before.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Natasha cooed sweetly. “Take what I give you, I promise it’s going to become your favorite thing.”

She firmly took your waist, her thumbs slightly squeezing your pelvis while she gradually buried herself deep inside you.

In response, you buried your nails deep on Wanda’s thighs, earning a small mumble from her. However, that didn’t stop you from eating her out, on the contrary, you were taking it out on her, which made her moan louder.

Natasha then found her pace, and you could hear the nasty sounds your wet cunt was making, which didn’t go unnoticed by both women either.

“Fuck, your little girl is taking me so good, Maximoff,” she exclaimed with pride.

“Mmm… I can tell! She’s taking it out on me,” Wanda panted.

Soon enough, Natasha increased her speed, and you let out muffled moans as your breath quickened. Just as she promised, it became your favorite thing, since your fluids were pouring out, and the fabric of the blanket was beginning to soak under you.

“I’m… I’m… so close!” Wanda exclaimed, whilst you were prevented from moaning, as she choked you with her inner thighs.

“You’ll wait for her,” Natasha commanded.

“Please… I don’t think I…-”

“You’ll wait for her,” Natasha reiterated.

You shut your eyes tight, the only sound that could be heard was Wanda’s slutty moans, and Natasha's pelvis crashing against your ass, creating that familiar obscene sound. Her movements were expertly timed, and her touch tantalizingly rough.

You eventually felt the coil in your lower abdomen losing itself for the second time, as you had just experienced yet another orgasm, this time with a new woman. Natasha had been eager to please you and had certainly succeeded in doing so.

Wanda did as Natasha ordered her, and just as you were finishing, Wanda climaxed, drenching your face with her own pleasure. The feeling of her warm juices all over you was both thrilling and satisfying.

Both redheads lay on either side of you. The room was humid, and you all had sweat trickling down your foreheads while some of your tousled hair sticked in there.

Wanda's fingers started caressing your scalp, "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry for not showing you how much I care about you. I've been so caught up in my own past that I didn't realize how much I was neglecting you. But that's going to change. From now on, I'm going to give you the love and attention that you deserve."

Hearing those words felt as if a long and arduous battle had finally come to an end, and all of the doubts and uncertainties that had been plaguing your mind were suddenly swept away. You finally could discard all the versions of yourself you had shown her for her to notice you, because for the first time, she had finally assured you that she loved you for you. You didn’t have to try that hard, not anymore. This was the start of something new, something beautiful.

You looked into Wanda's eyes, "Thank you, my witchy,” your tone came out more emotional than you intended to. But it didn’t matter, it was a moment of pure vulnerability and honesty, and it felt liberating to finally hear her say those words.

Natasha, who was also there, smiled and stroked both of your cheeks tenderly. "My beautiful girls," she said, "I hope we can meet again soon and continue to share these precious moments together."

That day, Wanda and you said goodbye to the visitors who had no idea what had happened upstairs, already very drunk and immersed in their conversations. After returning home, Wanda confessed to you that she had been intimate with Natasha Romanoff in previous occasions, but you didn’t blame her, that same night, you also felt a certain attraction growing within you. Therefore, you and Wanda agreed this wouldn’t be the first and last time you would be having encounters with Natasha.

And so, as the weeks went by, the three of you went on several dates, and created all kinds of memories. You enjoyed spontaneity at its fullest, no expectations, and overall, you felt special and loved by both women, who made you feel noticed and appreciated.

It didn’t take long for your love for them to grow, and you cherished every moment you spent together.

Looking back on that night, it felt like the world was about to end. Little did you know that it was actually starting.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximommy #wanda maximoff x you #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #wandanat #wanda x natasha #wandanat x reader

664 notes · View notes

bits-and-babs · 1 year

Text

✦ 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 ✦

– KINKTOBER DAY 10: ROLEPLAY

captain john price x reader | smut, 18+ | 1.0k words

summary: rocked by the deployment of your husband, you strike up an unlikely supportive relationship with a captain at his base...

cw: f!reader. cheating, consistent references to the reader's husband, star-crossed lovers vibes, fingering (?), supportive and mild dirty talk, p in v sex mention.

⇽ KINKTOBER MLIST | DAY 11: BREEDING KINK ⇾

You don’t mean to rely on Captain Price so much during your husband’s deployment. Complete mischance. As though you’d tripped and fell into his office– However, it also feels inescapable.

Written in the stars that you would happen to find him that day.

Tear stricken, burdened with the grief of struggling to maintain a healthy lifestyle since your husband flew out to Urzikstan. The weeks without contact, persistent distress without certainty that he was alive– it was all unbearable.

When Price had found you practically prostrating yourself before the barracks in a desperate attempt to petition for some news about your husband’s condition, you were certain he’d throw you off the grounds. When he’d taken you into his arms, informing you he wasn’t at liberty to divulge such sensitive information, you’d been thankful for the kindness he’d offered. Compassionate eyes tracing your face as he gently wiped your tears away with combat-marred palms, John had eased the ache that had been burdening you since deployment day.

You try to convince yourself it isn’t often… But in truth you find yourself visiting every day.

Find the length of time he holds your hands to comfort you extend far past what was reasonable. He laces your fingers together, warming the outside of your wedding band, and squeezing gently in a silent acknowledgement of your loneliness… Even if it was beginning to feel a whole lot less isolating with him.

Find yourself touching him more. You reach to fix his collar when you leave, playfully reminding him that he needed to keep his uniform straight. Picking fluff from his shoulder, straightening that ridiculous hat he always wore. Any excuse to find a way to hold him, to feel that warmth.

Soon, you find yourself relying on him to fill the void of the bed that your husband's deployment had left behind. Inevitable. Those comforting eyes, the ever present physical comfort John offered you– It felt natural to want to feel that beneath bed sheets, to feel the warmth of his kisses elsewhere than your lips. It’s constant, night after night. Soon he stops knocking on the door and lets himself in, stops asking where to find a glass to give you some water. It’s familiar, domestic even. It’s guilt-inducing.

The scratch of John’s beard between your thighs feels like penance for this cardinal sin. You assumed the scratches you’d gouged into his back had the same effect when he stood in the shower following your trysts. A painful reminder of your husband in Urzikstan, unwitting to his wife’s disloyalty. Her desperation.

Truthfully, you wish the shame was enough to stop, to call off this affair and refocus your affections. It wasn’t.

“John,” You whimper as he presses his thumb into your spit soaked clit, pressing slow, messy kisses to the bare skin of your hip. He’s deliberate, circling the swollen nerves with the pinpoint precision bestowed upon an expert marksman. When your hips stutter upwards, seeking more friction, you feel the enamel of his teeth against your hip bone, a small smile pulling on his lips.

“Yes, Love?” His answer is drawn out, voice husky, and it makes the walls of your pussy clench desperately. When you glance to him, his sapphire irises remain trained on the looseness of your jaw, the shapes your lips make when he drags his thumbprint jussst right–

“Oh my god,” you breathe, squeezing your eyes shut when he presses another tender, almost loving kiss to your stomach, his beard scraping your skin. Like flint striking stone, sparks skitter along your nerves, fizzling across synapses. “Fuck fu– don’t stop–”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” John’s tongue traces over the dip of your public bone, barely missing your clit and nearly reducing you to tears with how you want to kiss him– to tell him how hopelessly you love him. It’s twisted and fucked up and utterly deplorable but, oh, you love him. The tingling bliss at your clit pinpoints, and your eyes squeeze closed, your eyebrows pulling in, “Yeah, is that it? Come on, Love, That’s it. That’s it.”

He tightens the circles he’s drawing on your throbbing clit, moving his thumb faster to close in on his target and relishing in the writhing of your body, the heaviness of your breathing and the tightness of your fingers in his cropped hair. You rock your hips to match his, your own pace stuttering as your arousal arcs violently.

Your walls squeeze around nothing, the tightly drawn circles rubbing against your clit practically snapping you in half with the force of your orgasm. It spiders through your limbs, prickling heat forcing your back from the mattress with a wail of John’s name. He kisses at your skin throughout the devastating flood of hormones, murmuring gentle encouragement.

“That’s it, Love. So good for me.”

You can’t deny it anymore, can’t refute the indisputable. You love him– utterly adore the man that practically lays himself at your feet in order to brighten your day. Given the bemused expressions his team would give him when you exited his office, you’d guessed such effort was abnormal for him. Reserved only for you– even if he knew you could never offer him the same unconditional affection.

Glancing to your rings, wedding band and diamond engagement ring strewn haphazardly across the bedside table, the threat of tears prickles your eyes.

“Hey,” you hear John mumble softly, his beard scraping your skin as he pressed gentle, loving kisses against your cheekbone, “Where’re you going? Need you here with me, Love.”

Closing your eyes for just a moment, you rid your mind of your husband. Shove the memory of him into a box in the far corner of your mind as you cradle the face of the man you love, offering him a gentle smile when you look into the sapphire of his irises.

“I’m here,” you murmur.

“Good,” he mumbles back, the edges of his eyes crinkling when you let out a soft gap, the head of his cock gently pushing inside of your slick pussy.

cod mwii/kinktober taglist:

@mockerycrow @bubuslutty @cheezitwh0re @haunt3dh3art @levi-llama @thebiscuitsheep @maelstrom007 @alexxavicry @bug-sy-boy @glennrheesworld @kittenfrostt @luvfromkat @blingblong55 @whore4dilfs @wolfyland07 @doggydale @dog55teeth @cabreezer0117 @cathnoneofyourbusiness @marygraceee @thatchickwiththecamera @legend-o-zelda @whore-for-anime @i-love-ghost @cyberpr1m3 @mockerycrow @bubuslutty @lundenloves @cheezitwh0re @haunt3dh3art @babychoi03 @infectedkura @allekat1988 @whore-for-anime @soupbinsoup @passi0np1t @mockerycrow @cyberpr1m3 @i-love-ghost @allekat1988 @infectedkura @babychoi03 @freakquenci @maviee @yunggoblin @sleepystaarr @watyousayin @soupbinsoup @passi0np1t @damn-dean-blog @pheonyxmoon @magicalreviewphantom @limegreenbabx @johfaam0 @iaur @justsayk

@bloodmoon-bites @wiltedwonderland @doggydale @limegreenbabx @namelesshumanperson @ninahhh-brahh @km-ffluv @decaffeinateddinosauronearth @domaniquessidehoe2 @arrozyfrijoles23 @amisouki @sleepysheepsstuff @chunguk @lundenloves @marylovesdilfs @ninahhh-brahh @namelesshumanperson @limegreenbabx @doggydale @wiltedwonderland @justsayk @pennachilles @harrypotter-loveboat @skeleton-island

@mortallyuniquepeach @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @crybaby-blue-blog @heart-atttack @pansa-1-san @maviee @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @s-u-t @ghostslynx @solidly-indulgent @glitterypirateduck @gummyfang @bii-aan-ckaa @konigsblog @crissteetee

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christinebloodwrittings · 6 months

Text

To hunt or be hunted #6

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader x Lucifer Summary: Bickering, divorces, life and death matters, after-life is so dynamic! Warnings: A little bit of angst.

Hazbin Taglist: @sakuraluna2468 @boogiemansbitch @mysterypotatoink @sibsteria @cherry-cola-100 @readergirlstuff @phoenixica24

Sorry for taking too long, next part will have smut.

The spell had worked far too well, your unconscious and inner instincts were brought to the surface. Meaning: when Lucifer turned around in bed, fast asleep of course, you pulled him back as the big spoon, hugging him close.

The problem started when you squeezed him too much, the pained expression in your face hurt him, he didn’t understood why, but it did. “It’s okay, I’m here, I’m not going anywhere” could it be that you suffered just as much as him? The need for someone was a type of suffering he wouldn’t wish for anyone, not even the worst of sinners.

He leaned close to your face, cleaning your tears away, when suddenly you started making a loud sound, with vibrations coming from your throat, almost sounded like a motorcycle engine tying to start. But then it hit him, like a flying brick no less.

You purred!

Immediately a smile that attempted to break his whole face was drawn in his face, he was terribly tempted to do more things to make you purr.

Your body has a biological clock that started developing seven years ago, matching Charlie’s clock and insane routine. But that morning, your body wouldn’t take the hint and move, you were too busy enjoying the remanent of rem sleep to bother with affairs of life.

Meanwhile, Lucifer was overworking his head thinking what if he gave you too much of a dose of the spell? He did the amount he gave Charlie as a child to help her sleep. Or maybe you were far too tired, that and the spell put you in the state you were in. He sighed, fixed your position to avoid atrophies, then started his routine.

He took over breakfast duty, making pancakes, he found a box full with cards, written on them old recipes with scratched pencil notes around. He smiled following your instructions for the protein shakes for Vaggie and Angel, finding them rather flavorful.

“Woah thanks dad, is Y/n okay, though?” Charlie became suspicious when there was a strange radio silence when she greeted you good morning, as always, and suddenly his father was early doing breakfast, when he didn’t rouse out of bed before noon.

“Yes, but let the poor thing rest okay? She was a bit worn” the dining room fell silent.

“How ya’ know that? Scandal” Angel winked at him, “I wonder what else is cookin’ in the king’s chambers” Husk slipped, earning a slight kick on his ancle from Alastor across from him at the table.

“We slept together last night, not in a weird way of course” Lucifer tried to be as cheery he could to hide his enthusiasm, clearly not helping Charlie’s cold feeling going up and down her body, and Alastor’s neck vein almost ready to pop and ruin his coffee.

“Dad, no” she knew the condition of your deal, one more year and you’ll be as dead as she will, literally. “What do you mean?” she had to swallow her concern to shape it as a ‘Dad I don’t think your new girlfriend is going to stick’ act, like a true divorce trauma kid.

“I mean it’s Y/n, okay? She’s often unpredictable and a very closed up person” all eyes went on Charlie, suspicion, what else was she not speaking of? Not they got a reason to doubt. “Well, She’s rather sweet when she wants to” she knew that, but that was not the point, “Yes, but…don’t get attached, that’s all”.

Lucifer burrowed his eyebrows, “Why would you say that, Charlie?” she easily begun to loath how weird her own name sounded entwined with his father’s hurt voice, “I just don’t want you to get hurt, if she someday…leaves, okay?” to just mention the incident brought a pain in them that Alastor would enjoy any other day, but you, he slept with you, now that was a thought hammering in his head non-stop.

“I won’t kiddo, I’m the big boss remember?” his happiness couldn’t make him glow more than he already did, it pissed the Radio man, but his coffee took a detour to his lungs when Angel asked with a mischievous wink, “How was she like, shorty?” he embraced the pain of holding the impulse to cough out of reflex, Lucifer noticing that he smiled and ‘innocently’ finished cutting Alastor’s head off, figuratively. “Very warm and soft” ‘bastard’ Alastor thought.

As Lucifer prepared your plate of pancakes, also frying some bacon, one of Alastor’s tendril’s flew inches passed his cheek, striking the wall in front of him.

“If you want to kill me, this is the wrong way to do it buddy” He didn’t flinched, nor moved at all, he just casually flipped the bacon, not even bothering to see the enraged demon behind him.

“What did you do to her?” his distorted voice echoed though the walls, “I simply wanted to sleep a bit better, and boy I did, her body is so soft, it’s exactly like falling asleep on a cloud” suddenly their faces were dangerously close, Alastor’s eyes had gone completely black, his mouth dripping a green gooey looking liquid.

“If you hurt her-” the radio demon got interrupted by the king’s mock laughter, “Since when you care about someone that isn’t yourself?” that hit him hard in his honor, “That’s for me to know, pest, stay the fuck away from her” he noticed his intimidation wasn’t really working, so he fumed down into his regular form.

“Mister deer is feeling threatened? Or even better, jealous?” Lucifer took the crispy bacon out of the pan, plating it into a separate dish from the pancakes as the demon laughed, “HA! You wish, she’s a darling friend, I just would hate to discover she has a bad taste” he emphasized the word friend, his mouth burning like acid being poured onto his tongue.

Alastor was about to leave the room, but Lucifer’s tone turn into a heavily severe one, “You better step up your game pal, she came out of your room crying and insanely alert” the radio hist froze in place, “I don’t know what you did, but I doubt she’ll forgive you” Lucifer came into view, holding a silver tray.

“My advice, apologize, from your non-existent heart” Alastor rolled his eyes, “Apologizing is for the weak and the stupid” the king moved past him, levitating a tea pot, poring freshly made tea into your designated mug, “Perfect, you’re being both”.

“If I find out that you caused her to cry again, I will erase you” he switched back to his cheerly attitude, so easily that it took Alastor out of guard, “Do he have an understanding, fawn?” the insult rolled out Alastor’s tongue as easy as breathing in response, “Fuck you”.

“I’ll take that as a yes” just as Lucifer was taking his leave, Charlie opened the door, “Is everything okay here?” his father smiled and patted her shoulder, “Yes! Matter of fact, Alastor here offered himself to take over dish duty while Y/n’s resting” he then left a very Alastor fuming and a shining in happiness Charlie.

When he opened the door of his room, you were sat on the bad stretching, “Oh golly, you’re awake!” your hair was messy, pajama shirt falling off your shoulder, “I was afraid I had over done it; how do you feel?” he made his way to you, setting the tray on the nightstand, handing you the tea cup.

“Like I was ran over, I don’t think I’ve ever slept that soundly in my life” the bitter taste of the tea made it to your mouth, you immediately felt better. “I bet, I made you some pancakes, I got fruits and bacon in case these aren’t enough” he sat next to you handing you a bite piece of pancakes on a fork.

Fussing, you opened your mouth and allowed him to feed you, “How is it? Maybe I added a little too much sugar” too much sugar, but when food is made with care it shows on the taste. Worst thing happened when you started purring, your hand went straight to your throat, “Ignore this, please, it will go away on its own”.

Lucifer smiled lovingly, “Well I have to say, I was pretty surprised when I first heard you purr, I thought you had a monstrous snore, but even if you did it was pretty cute” he giggled, again you were flabbergasted, how many times you could be in less than 12 hours?

Everything, is that weird? Everything you knew about him, what the nuns of the convent you winded up in told you, was awfully misguided or it was just one side of the moon. That one was a funny one, you killed a mob boss, and then ran away with a bullet stuck on your knee, thank god adrenaline is a serious booster. A nun found you bleeding on the statue of whomever saint that was, and offered you housing.

When they started yapping about how submissive a woman should be to a man, you ran away.

“Oh, sorry, was it something I said? Does it taste that bad?” he must’ve seen you spacing, otherwise his anxiety wouldn’t had shown up. “It’s been a while since someone had cooked for me” if you had a tail that could wag, it would be doing it.

“How long?” he tucked a lock of his golden hair behind his pointy ear, for some reason you wanted to do that. “Since I was around…fifteen” his expression looked pained, “That’s so sad, I’m not an expert cook, but I can take over if you’d want me to” you took another bite, they were too sweet but fluffy and crispy on the edges, it was delightful.

“It’s okay, I like to have a function, makes me feel useful” looking down at his hands, he wasn’t wearing his gloves, his fingers had burnt spots and old cuts, looking around at the ducks in the room kind of gave you an idea.

“I understand that, now please eat, you will feel the pain of hunger if you don’t” his intoxicating good mood was starting to rub off on you.

He happily told you that you could use his shower and whatever you needed, he insisted when you reminded him that your room was down the stairs, you didn't want to continue arguing with him so you gave in.

You materialized clean undergarments and uniform, while the citrusy caramel smell of his shampoo was delightfully replacing your lavender normal scent. Now what was on the devil’s mind when he offered? Nothing, he was being nice, but he hoped to have you as his guest in his chambers more often, so the least he could do was being a good host.

The door opened, your hair up in a wet bun, you wore a black shirt with white leather straps, a pair of black dress pants and brown high knee boots. He enthusiastically offered to do your hair, glowing like Charlie did when she offered the same a few years back.

He had you sat on a stool while he blow-dried your hair and combed it.

“Going back on taking over, I may need you to, I won’t be here for dinner” you spoke, remembering a certain rendezvous you had later, “Lady’s night?” the Goetia had a reunion, sadly since you had killed some of them, you had also inherit their titles (On paper) so making an appearance was mandatory, otherwise they would drag you from wherever you were, like last year.

“Something like that” you dismissed the subject, “I’ll compensate you for it, you can go crazy but leave everything clean, otherwise Nifty will have your head” he hummed in agreement as he ate a piece of fruit that you left on your plate.

“Hey” you called for him, softly, before he could turn around, you hugged him, having to lean down a little given the height difference, “Thank you, for last night” since your arms were across his chest, he took your hand and placed a kiss.

“I’ll be returning late tonight, there’s no need for you to wait up for me” he feared you would be too tired to walk up the stairs to return to his room, “You know you can…come back, right? Here, I mean” you nodded, “Yes, I’ll slip in between, I just don’t want you to wait me up” he turned in your arms and gave you a good squeeze, “Okay”.

🍎📻

Being the chef wasn’t your only obligation, it was also the tobacco distribution company you owned. At least in the pride ring, you were the only supplier.

Valentino, as annoying as he could be, was your highest buyer. No matter how much he wanted to fight you he can’t, otherwise he would have to arrange deals in between the rings of Wrath and Greed, the paper work that involves that would take a literal eternity to sort out.

The main fabric is managed by an Imp. Anyone could ask why, if hell-borns are known for being untrustworthy, but she was the only hell-born who willingly asked you to work for you, (Demanded is a better term), she was also loyal and hardworking. The rest of workers were souls who are under contract via soul.

Like other overlords, you managed them under a schedule and a monthly salary, what makes you stand out is the free housing on fabric grounds, health insurance, strict conduct policies and a safe work environment.

It was a known fact that Valentino does not offer health insurance…He should, though.

You had another set of obligations, with the Goetia.

After the duels that cost the clan three members, you were brought to a meting with tons of paper work. Then a mock ceremony with Paimon naming you part of royalty of hell. All with a ‘what the fuck’ face, because the three nobles forgot to mention that detail.

It was a very old tradition in their clan, that the winner of any official duel earns the titles, lands, possessions and current income of the defeated. So you got royally screwed.

You were forced to sit and listen to Paimon blabbering about himself, the nepotism going around his family of arrogant and selfish bastards, except stolas of course, and how much he hates other demons or Imps…Yes, with you being in or outside the room, he didn’t cared.

Stolas was in the middle of a divorce procedure, since he didn’t had a network of friends you offered to be his witness for the signing.

Which brings you to that very moment: Stella fussing and cursing, Andrealphus, as her witness, throwing you either shit or intents of seduction. Stolas re considering his entire life, you with a very thin string of patience left, and Paimon stretching the meeting as much as he could as to not get the divorce through.

“Whiskey, neat no ice” you wanted to dissolve, right on the seemingly pine smelling bar table you ended up on after the meeting. “Looking rather overdressed for a joint like this one, miss” the bartender sassed as he put your drink down, “One more comment and you’ll be breathing through a tube” he retreated to clean some glasses.

“That’s some jolly attitude” you recognized that voice, “Not today James, I ain’t in the mood for your shit” your ex-husband, build like some kind of bug demon, his smile as gross as it was in life, stood in front of you, smelling like cat piss and having his suit all worn out.

“Oh come now, I just came here to chat and gamble” you rolled your eyes at him “What else is new?” he chuckled, “How about a hand of poker? For old times’ sake” he made a little bow, as if he was still a gentleman, pathetic.

You said yes, reluctantly. Good thing that the bartender picked on your sour mood, refilling your glass every time he saw it empty.

“Hey Alden, it’s not like you can gamble your daughter twice” one of his drinking buddies referred to how bad he was losing, “That’s a fucked up joke” another said, “I wish it was, drunk people always tell the truth” your poker face was so bad, only they looked at your hate filled eyes with fear, James being completely unaware.

“Okay James, how about we bet something?” he looked up from his shitty cards, “If I win, I’ll introduce you to a friend of mine, your dream of being in the showbiz will finally be true” you thought Alastor could have a swing at him, “Swell, and if I win I get to make you my bitch again” his pals tried to warn him, but you had a royal flush on your hands, and the biggest shit eating grin in your face “Sure pal, let’s see how this ends”.

You pushed the Hotel doors, tripping on your heels and the hem of your long dress, “Woah hold right there, hot stuff” Angel helped you up, eyes shooting open as he saw you, “Y/n?! You sure as hell clean up NICE!” you laughed, hanging onto his shoulders, slowly steading yourself, “Where were you all dolled up?” he sat you at one of the bar stools, “Just a business meeting, but I appreciate the compliments” Angel made a move to Husk, “Have a drink with us then, on me” he served you water on a shot glass, to make you sober up a little, “Can’t, I’ve worn out my gams*” you still took the shot as if it was vodka.

The Radio Demon was in for a little night cap at the parlor, when he took a look at you, a drunken mess in a beautiful hair-do and dress. He felt an electric feeling going down his knees, especially when you smiled at him, “Alastor, just the man I wanted to see, you want to be forgiven and have the laugh of your life?” you jumped off the stool, tripping again on your dress, and falling against Alastor’s chest.

“Yes?” he brushed your dripping mascara off with his thumb, “Just outside this door is my ex-husband, I just found out he sold my new born daughter to the mafia, would you care to make him a voice in your broadcast? A permanent one” the pain in your expression was drowned by the fleeting happiness the alcohol created, at the same time as he picked on the situation, he also founded terribly difficult to remain unfazed.

“On one condition” you melted on the way he spoke, and his hand touching your face, “That I don’t shove my axe up your ass for the stupidity you told me last night? Or spill the fact that you have a little fluffy tail?” his ears shot back as you whispered the last bit, “Join me afterwards for a chat” you laughed, again making yourself a little steadier on the floor.

“Let’s have breakfast tomorrow, I already drank twice my weight in whiskey” he took your hand, kissed your palm and your knuckles, his eyes full of determination, “Deal” his prongs grew as much as his body as he directed himself to the door.

“And Alastor” He stopped midways, looking back at you, “Please make him regret it” he was about to burn the guy alive, only for you, “It will be my pleasure” after saying that he disappeared at the other side of the door.

Immediately after that, you figured with your current level of alcohol, you needed to reach a soft spot. Somehow you made it upstairs, stumbling your way to the king's room. Your heels were left on a corner, so did your dress when you changed into the kitty pajamas.

The sound of sheets drawn your attention to the bed, soon after you saw him sit up, rubbing his eyes as he stretched a little before smiling when he finally saw you. His loving face made you want to hug him.

"Hey~, how was it?" He extended his hand, making grabbing mannerisms as you walked to his side to take his hand, "Awful, I stink of alcohol, so I'll be back after I-" he pulled you to himself, not caring about the raw whiskey smell, "You had a bad time wearing that dress? Next time I'll tag along" he sassed, chuckling into your neck.

"Prince Stolas got divorced, good for him to be honest, his ex-wife is a case" he made an ah sound in understanding, "A royal pain in the ass, those meetings with Paimon, right?" You sighed into his hair, he knew what you were going to do, he just wanted you to tell him.

"There's no fooling you, huh?" You got him to laugh again, "They got you so good, now, I imagine you're doing those three guys chores" you pinched his side for his audacity, "The boost of rep was not worth it, and now they want me to marry and fuck one of them, over my dead body" he moved to top you, his face inches away from yours.

"Funny, I thought they were sticks in the mud" his eyes sparkled, as he laid down on your breast, slowly, testing your reaction, you just kept sighing and talking.

"They are, but their slurs won't bring those assholes back, so they have to deal with me" he weighted a bit, but you didn't mind it, in fact he almost began purring when you absentmindedly started petting his head.

"Next time I'll go with you, they won't say a thing about you in my presence" he enjoyed how your hand made its way through his scalp, he missed that, very much.

"I don't think I'll make it to the next one, my deal ends before that, I have to start planning who will inherit my shit" his blood froze, a familiar feeling invaded him as he remembered what Charlie had told him.

"Where will you go?" If you had been sober perhaps you would have thought of an excuse not to answer him, but whiskey took the only opportunity you had to blackmail Alastor about his tail, and now you were half-confessing your deal with his daughter.

Blame the alcohol and his abandoned puppy face.

"I can't explicitly tell you, neither can Charlie, but I will tell you this, please don't let her burry me in hotel grounds" Reality hit him like a truck on the highway. With his arms on the sides of your head he stood up, looking more serious and hurt.

"You will die? What kind of shitty deal are you in!?" the high note in his voice made your ears hurt, "The kind a person does when doesn't want to live anymore?" out of nowhere you started laughing, "Actually, Charlie's mission was for her to find a reason for me to continue living, so far, nothing worth my time".

"Then...make me your reason".

----------------------------------------------

Gams*: Woman's legs.

Part 7

#alastor x reader #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #radio demon #cursed cat alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel fanart #alastor x lucifer #alastor fanart #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #radioapple #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #hazbin #hotel hazbin #hazbin hotel

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tokkiwrites · 8 months

Text

┈─ 𖧷 Harvey Wallbanger ⸝⸝ 🥃◞

ㅡㅡㅡ in which you're curious about how a classic harvey wallbanger tastes so you ask Joel, your dad's best friend, for a sip of his. he lets you try itㅡ in a not so conventional way.

★ ͘ dbf!joel miller, age gap, fem!reader, afab reader, no use of y/n, hair pulling, spit kink, p in v sex (unprotected), creampie, kind of voyeurism, lots of pet names, lmk if i missed anything.

The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the backyard where the family gathering unfolded. The scent of barbecue lingered in the air, intermingling with the fragrant aroma of magnolia blossoms that adorned the edges of the patio. Strings of fairy lights twinkled overhead, adding a touch of magic to the evening. Mismatched lawn chairs and a weathered porch swing created a cozy seating area, where laughter and chatter filled the air. The wooden table, adorned with an array of homemade dishes, bore witness to the love poured into the get-together.

but that wasn't something you cared about right now.

Joel Miller, a man weathered by years and life's challenges, guarded his emotions behind a rough exteriorㅡㅡ at least that's what it seemed like.

You couldn't help but stare, unknowingly drawn towards him, as he conversed with your aunt. Family gatherings were a bittersweet affair; you resented his constant presence yet yearned for it, more than you cared to admit.

With a sip of the overly sweet virgin mojito, you suppressed a sigh, wondering if your dad had momentarily forgotten your age, given the drink he made for you. attention fixated on Joel, you observed the way your aunt touched his bicep; it sent a pang of jealousy through you. The effect he had on you was undeniable. You hated to admit it.

"Everything's alright, sweetheart?" Your dad's voice interrupted your envy-induced trance. "Huh?" You furrowed your brows, snapping back to reality. "Oh, uh... yeah, Dad. I'm just trying to get this drink down," you laughed nervously, swirling the cold glass around.

A knot tightened in your stomach. What if your dad sensed the unspoken tension between you and his best friend? you couldn't help but wonder how he would react if he knew the truth.

"What, you don't like my mojitos?"

"Dad, this is in no way a mojito." you laughed, settling the glass down onto the table next to you. "Well, you're still my little girl. I can't have you drinking alcohol now, can I?"

As you laughed off your dad's questionable mixology skills, your eyes inadvertently found Joel. His rugged silhouette stood against the backdrop of the setting sun. Why does he have to be so...him?

You didn't know much about the man, even though you grew up with him around all the timeㅡ you didn't know much. just knew how much you wanted him and how wrong it was.

On so many levels so wrong, yet you couldn't help but tremble as a wave of unspeakable thoughts had drowned your mind. Pressing your thighs together, you breathe heavily and decide to save yourself while you can, swiftly making your way inside the house.

No one seemed to notice. Almost.

"Now why'd you run off like that? the ping-pong game just started." His voice, a gravelly drawl, cut through the air.

fuck. he knows. he saw you stare at him the whole night, of course he knows.

turning around, you meet his gaze. he towered over the kitchen entrance, a small glass in his rough hands. Jesus christ. You force out a smile, voice hitching.

"Hi, Mr. Miller! we didn't get to talk tonight, huh?" You slowly back up towards the kitchen island. "Why are you inside?"

"Don't change the subject, darlin'. i saw you tonight..."

oh, fuck.

"sneaking in to steal some of your dad's alcohol." he laughs, pointing towards you. "now, i told your dad you ain't one to drink those kiddie things."

thank god.

you laugh in relief, throwing your hands up. "you got me!"

"yeah, all grown up now. need a grown-up drink, no?" His eyes lock onto yours, and you gulp down the lump in your throat. nodding your head, you reach to play with the hem of your dress. "what are you drinking?"

"oh, this? 's a Harvey, don't think you'll like it much. old man drink." the corners of his mouth lift up into a smile. "can i have some?" you pip. "i bet its better than what dad made me drink." laughing, you try and stare out the window, as to avert Joel's gaze.

"that so?" he hoarsed. oh my god, this motherfu-

he circled around you and made his way to the cabinet that housed your dad's most cherished whiskey. Joel settled his glass down, the amber liquid catching the warm glow of the kitchen lights.

"C'mere, girl." He motioned you over, a command that sent shivers down your spine, and you obeyed. There was a magnetic force in his presence, an unspoken poison in his voice that drew you closer. As you approached, you caught a hint of his cologne, a rugged scent that added to the intoxicating atmosphere. He could ask anything of you right now...you'd do it.

Joel poured a generous amount into a glass filled with ice, the sound of the liquid gliding against the crystal and echoing in the quiet kitchen. The air thickened with anticipation as he handed you the drink, the warmth of his rough fingers grazing yours.

"i-i'm kind of scared to try it now, honestly." you divert his gaze. "come on, now." he pushed closer to you, his scent enveloping you. joel grabs the glass from your hands, his fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary. His other hand cupped your cheek, thumb pressing against your chin.

"open up." your eyes widened. did you hear that right? are you drunk? maybe that mojito wasn't virgin at all. "don't make me repeat myself, girl. "

you complied, uncertainty and excitement blending in the air. Joel tilted the glass, and the rich, hard whiskey slipped past his lips. Leaning down, palm still around your jaw, your breath caught as he slowly spat the liquid into your mouth.

his eyes never leave yours, and your heart feels like it could rip through your chest right now. Joel withdrew, the warmth of his touch lingering on your skinㅡ the taste of that forbidden sip plastered on your tongue.

The air crackled with an unspoken tension, and for a moment, time seemed suspended. As you caught your breath, Joel's expression remained unreadable.

"really think i couldn't see you starin' at me, angel?"

"I'm - so sorry, mr. Millerㅡㅡ"

"sweet girl. been dyin to know what's inside that pretty head of yours when you look at me like that." His fingers brushed a loose strand of hair from your face. "you know how much i had to hold back? wanted to ravage you, toㅡ" he trails "to destroy you. make you beg for me to stop..." joel leans down, his rough beard tickling your neck, drawing a soft moan from between your lips.

"dirty girl." a dark chuckle evades his throat "wonderin' how soaked that pussy is right now, hm?"

"mr. Miller, p-please..."

"so fuckin needy, i ain't even touched you yet." His voice, a husky murmur, resonated with a mixture of amusement and a raw need. his hot breath against you belied the intensity of the moment, leaving you yearning for more.

Desire hung thick in the air as Joel's hands lingered, teasing and exploring. Each touch ignited a fire within you, and the temptation between you two pulsed like a heartbeat faster than your own.

"Sure you want this, darlin?"" Nipping at your bottom lip, he waits for your signal. "So sure." This is it, the moment you had only dreamed of. that's when his lips crashed against yours, his mustache pricking your skin. you kissed back, hungry, so hungry like you've never felt before.

at any moment someone could walk through that doorㅡ but you didn't care, couldn't care. not whilst joels tongue clashed against yours. your arms wrapped around his neck, his slipped down to your ass, squeezing it, prompting you to yelp into the kiss.

"wanna fuck you over this counter, baby. want that pretty pussy wrapped around my cock." you moaned at his dirty words.

dirty. dirty like his touch that left your skin tainted, dirty like how you know you'll feel after all of this is over.

but you like dirty. you love dirty.

you were too deep into it. Maybe it was the booze or his voice digging at your core. you barely realized when he turned you around, bending you over the kitchen counterㅡ The cold surface almost sizzled against your skin.

joel pressed himself against you, still clothed. fuck, he was huge. pulling your dress up and panties down, he traced his finger agains your dripping folds.

"fuckin hell, baby, all this for me? c'mon, let me hear you say it."

"'s all for y-ou, mr. Miller ㅡ" you choked back a moan, pushing yourself back onto his bulge. he laughs, tilting his head to the side slightly. " a fuckin dream 's what you are, girl. didn't know what i was missin all this time."

joel unbuckled his pants in a hurry, pulling them to the ground and positioning himself better behind you. he drags the pulsing tip up and down, up and down as if he didn't make you wait long enough.

after he thinks its sufficient, he starts to push inside, causing you to bite onto your forearm and shut your eyes as tears welled up in them. "atta girlㅡ you can take it. you're a big girl, ain't ya?" he teased.

by the time he was fully inside, you were a mess, tears stained your cheeks, drool at the corners of your mouth covered in smudged lipstick ㅡ a dream.

joel moves, at first, slowly as to let you adjust. he's patient. praises trail onto you as he kisses little pecks on the small of your back. "That's it, darlin'. take it all like a big girl." your body trembles from every breath and touch of his.

his pace picks up, skin hitting yours roughly, fingers tangled in your hair and his other palm flush against your belly. "feel me there, sweet girl?"

"I- yes, yes, please, p-please ㅡ " you were hanging on that counter for dear life, your brain foggy. nothing made sense but this. Joel buried deep inside of you.

he fucked you hard, and deep, your stomach churning at every hit. his calloused hands gripped tightly at you ass, his moves now more ragged.

"f-uck, baby ㅡ i gotta come. where, tell me where?"

"inㅡinside-"

"god, fuckin dammitㅡ" with that white ropes painted your velvet walls, causing you to reach your high also, squeezing joel in.

and for a moment there was silence. this really just happened. joel pulled out, letting his seed drip down your thighs. "shit, babyㅡ look at that. so pretty." he smiles kissing your shoulders, "so pretty like this, f' me."

you sigh, of relief you didn't get caughtㅡㅡ or maybe of sadness because it was all over.

"let's get you cleaned up, huh? we're lucky your family takes ping-pong games so seriously." joel laughed, helping you up.

"mr. Miller?" you chirp.

"yeah, angel?"

"I really didn't like the Harvey."

⏜⃞♡⠀⠀🐰 guess whos baaack???? sorry for the extremely long time i was gone. uni drains me of all my powers. but i wrote this short 2k word story as an apology. dont forget to leave requests guys!!!! muahh i hope you like it.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you

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vlrghoes · 3 months

Text

Legal Affairs | Roman Reigns

Authors Note: Okay so bare with me as I've had my Tumblr for ages but was more of a wattpad girl so still finding my way around the formatting of this. I want to just drop a small teaser/overall synopsis of the story and see if you guys are feeling it before I continue to write on here (I'm actually doing exams rn which is why I am not just posting the whole story right now as I’ll use it to procrastinate but ignore that) also still figuring out if I can be bothered to switch between Joe and Roman. We’ll find out at some point

Status: Coming soon

Pairing: Roman Reigns x Black! OC (November “Nova” Harrison)

Warnings: None but will be some in future chapters

•• ━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━ ••

November Harrison is a divorce lawyer at the top of her game, renowned for her professionalism, sharp intellect, and the distinguished legacy of her legal family. Her life is meticulously organized, with clear lines drawn between her personal and professional worlds. But when Roman Reigns, a world-famous wrestler embroiled in a high-stakes divorce, walks into her office, those lines begin to blur.

Roman, with his commanding presence and turbulent personal life, is unlike any client November has encountered. As they work closely together, their professional relationship evolves into something deeper, something neither of them expected. Despite her better judgment, November finds herself drawn to Roman’s vulnerability beneath his public persona.

As their connection intensifies, November grapples with the ethical and emotional complexities of their relationship. The pressures of her demanding career, the weight of her family's expectations, and the shadows of Roman's past create a whirlwind of challenges. Amidst this turmoil, a sudden revelation changes everything, forcing November to confront her deepest fears and desires.

#wwe imagine #wrestling imagine #wrestling fanfiction #roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns x black oc #roman reigns fic #wwe x black oc #liyah’s literature

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azen13 · 3 months

Text

The General's Garden - Chapter Two: Summer

CW: Yandere Themes, Kissing

Description: You're just a simple gardener hired by Jing Yuan to care for his garden. Little do you know that the General thinks of you quite highly, and wishes to make you his.

Pairing: Yandere!Jing Yuan x GN!Reader

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

It is a sweltering summer day when Jing Yuan invites you out for dinner.

As the weather had become warmer, the greens had become greener, and the conversations had become deeper. No longer do you simply share tea for mere minutes with the General of the Xianzhou Luofu before getting back to work; no, you now find yourself steered in Jing Yuan’s direction like a ship at sea.

The day he invites you out begins like any other mundane morning. You wake up draped by ruffled bed sheets, a line of drool running down your face, and the imprint of a hand on your arm. The sun hasn’t even risen yet, the only sign of dawn is the slice of yellow on the horizon. There are signs of the Xianzhou Luofu beginning to awaken already, though. The crowing of a rooster, and the quiet hum of hushed conversation between pedestrians on desolate roads.

You get yourself ready for the day, dressed in inexpensive, loose clothes. Although recently, your wardrobe has begun changing, along with your budget in general. With your recent raise, you could probably afford anything the universe had to offer: a lifetime vacation in Penacony, a whole planet, IPC business investments, the stuff you could only dream of affording. But thanks to your job, you can envision whole galaxies of possibilities hanging just out of reach of your eyes, so close you can touch them.

The walk to the General’s home is a familiar affair. To Jing Yuan, these morning hours are painful and drawn-out. Oh, how he wishes your face, framed by your ruffled hair like an angel’s halo, could be the first thing he could see every morning. Subconsciously, a part of him wishes he could be the first thing you see every morning as well.

When you do arrive, Jing Yuan is already waiting for you beneath the branches of a gingko tree. The gold in his eyes is shrouded by shadows, painting them a duller color. Still, even the darkness cannot obscure his soft smile–evergreen on his handsome face–when he sees you. He approaches with a lazy stride, eyes fixated on your own. “Good morning, Y/N. I hope you slept well,” he greets, taking a moment to drink in the sight of you. Even in those understated clothes, you look positively divine.

You offer a smile and a small wave. “I did. How are you?” You ask, shifting on your feet a little. Despite how many mornings you have spent getting to know this man, you cannot help but feel your stomach doing somersaults every passing second you spend talking to him. Your heart thrums in your ears, beating out in racing rhythms.

Jing Yuan stifles a chuckle at this. You are so beautiful to him, even when you are nervous, even when you are sad, even when you are frustrated, or feeling a million other emotions that cannot be named. It’s truly endearing to him, seeing you try to hide the fidgeting of your hands or the flitting of your eyes. Even so, he hopes that one day your gaze will be locked on to him, and only him. “I am well, thank you for asking.” There is a brief pause in the conversation as Jing Yuan scans your face, envisioning this moment as a chessboard. You are brilliant in his eyes, but he knows he can and will outsmart you. It is only a matter of how.

He decides to take a simple, subtle route. Slow and steady is the way to win a heart

“I was wondering,” he continues, breaking the silence, “if you would like to come with me to dinner in Exalting Sanctum. A new restaurant has opened up. Consider it a token of appreciation for your work,” he says. His eyes watch with a concealed anticipation, eager for your surprised reaction.

Of course, your eyes widen with surprise, though you don’t immediately deny him. The sight almost breaks his facade. For weeks you would refuse even the slightest gift from him. A cup of tea, a break, a small raise, anything and everything. And that simply won’t do, not with what Jing Yuan has in store for you.

“I would…” you hesitate, carding through calendars in your mind, checking today’s date to see if you had anything planned, “but-” “But what?” The reply is fast, but it is not sharp. The General’s tone is inquisitive and soft, like the last rays of sunlight at dusk. He tilts his head slightly, gazing at you with those big, golden eyes. More and more, you find yourself falling into those pools of molten gold, delving into odd feelings and falling sick to strange maladies that you cannot diagnose. Again, you hesitate. Jing Yuan does not rush you. He only gives you that soft, quiet stare. “I…I think I have something going on,” you mumble, feeling a little embarrassed for refusing an invite to dinner from the most powerful figure on the Luofu.

Jing Yuan’s reply is quick again, though his cadence is as relaxed and lazy as ever. “We can reschedule, then. Just let me know what dates you are free, and I’ll make a reservation,” he says, taking a moment before he continues. “If you don’t mind me asking, what are you busy with tonight?”

You tell him, and he listens with rapt attention, nodding along to your words. The question is an easy lead-in to the normal morning conversations you share with him, though his eyes seem to shine a little brighter.

After a few minutes, you and him part ways; Jing Yuan heads off to work, and you go into the depths of the garden. The rose bushes are just days away from blooming, and they need your attention.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

A few days later, and you are anxiously pacing the floors of your tiny studio apartment like the floor is on fire. It only took hours for Jing Yuan to set up a reservation on a night you were free, saying he would pick you up and walk with you to Exalting Sanctum. Luckily, your apartment is close to where the new restaurant is, so it shouldn’t be a particularly long walk.

Minutes pass. Your feet drum a steady rhythm on the hardwood floors. The tenants living beneath you probably hate you by now, but you could care less what they think. The General of the Luofu is coming to take you to dinner. As a “token of appreciation for your work”.

The moment you hear a soft knock against your door, time seems to pass by like a rock skipping on the surface of a pond. One moment you are opening your door, the next Jing Yuan is walking next to you down a busy street, one hand gently placed on the small of your back, the other hanging by his side. He walks on the side of the sidewalk closer to the road, eyes scanning ahead. Then you’re at dinner, divulging more and more details of your life and hearing more about Jing Yuan than you had ever known before. He says something that makes your cheeks burn, and there’s an edge to the brilliance of his eyes that you’ve never seen before.

You must be inebriated, if not from something you’ve drank, then from Jing Yuan’s spirit itself. He pays for dinner and walks you home, once again making sure to place himself between you and the road. Before you can return to your apartment, he says something unintelligible. Your lips move on their own in a breathless response.

The General of the Xianzhou Luofu kisses you, then and there, before bidding you goodnight.

One step closer to victory.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere drabble #yandere imagine #yandere hsr #yandere hsr x reader #yandere hsr x you #yandere jing yuan #yandere jing yuan x reader #i am most definitely editing this asap bc #yeah #the writer's block is killer too like #but yeah will fix this! just wanted to at least post something lol

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horeformilfs · 9 months

Text

An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind

Alcina Dimitrescu x Fem! Maid Reader

TW: Blood, Violence, Anger, Mention of Eating Disorders, Angst

------------------------------------------

The imposing doors of Dimitrescu Castle creaked open, heralding the return of Lady Alcina Dimitrescu. As the tall, elegant figure made her way through the grand foyer, the echo of her footsteps reverberated through the vast halls. The atmosphere seemed charged with an unspoken tension.

Y/N, the head maid of the Dimitrescu household, stood in the dimly lit corridor, her fingers tracing the intricate patterns on her apron. She had spent the entire day managing the affairs of the castle, all while pondering the peculiar absence of Lady Dimitrescu's usual morning presence.

When Alcina swept into the dining room, her daughters, Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela, were already seated. Y/N approached them, her eyes searching for an explanation. "Where is Lady Dimitrescu?" she inquired, her tone respectful yet tinged with concern.

Bela, the eldest of the three daughters, looked up, her gaze meeting Y/N's. "Mother left for a meeting with Mother Miranda before dawn," she replied, her words carrying an air of indifference.

Y/N's brow furrowed in confusion. Alcina had never left without informing her, especially for matters concerning Mother Miranda. It left a subtle ache in her chest, a silent question lingering in her mind.

Throughout the day, Y/N carried out her duties, the silence of the castle amplifying her contemplations. Her mind replayed the moments leading up to Alcina's departure, searching for a reason, an explanation that remained elusive.

As dusk settled over the castle, the heavy wooden doors groaned once again, signaling Lady Dimitrescu's return. The air seemed to thicken with an unspoken tension as Y/N caught a glimpse of the anger etched on Alcina's face.

The tall woman's steps were sharper, more forceful than usual, as if carrying the weight of unresolved frustration. Y/N, ever attentive, approached with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. "My Lady, is there anything you require?" she inquired, her voice steady.

Alcina's eyes, stormy and unforgiving, met Y/N's. "You should have known better than to let things fall into disarray in my absence," she reprimanded, her tone cutting through the air.

"I assure you, Lady Dimitrescu, everything has been overseen meticulously today," Y/N responded calmly, her gaze meeting Alcina's unwaveringly. The tension in the room seemed to escalate with each passing moment.

A scowl etched itself deeper into Alcina's face, her anger palpable. "Do not presume to speak back to me, maid," she hissed, the words dripping with disdain. Y/N, however, stood her ground, her patience waning.

"Forgive me, my Lady, but I won't stand idly by while unfounded accusations are thrown my way," Y/N retorted, her voice steady, yet an undertone of frustration lingered.

Alcina's eyes flashed with an intensity that bordered on fury. "You dare to challenge me?" she exclaimed, the sharpness of her tone cutting through the air.

Y/N's irritation reached its peak, and she snapped, "I only speak the truth, Lady Dimitrescu. If there's an issue, let it be known so I can address it."

The confrontation escalated, each word exchanged adding fuel to the growing inferno. Alcina's daughters, drawn by the rising commotion, entered the main hall with concerned expressions, their eyes shifting between their mother and the head maid.

Bela spoke up, "Mother, what's happening?"

Cassandra added, "Why are you arguing with Y/N?"

Before Alcina could respond, Y/N, fueled by a mix of frustration and confusion, uttered something that struck a nerve. Alcina's eyes flared with a dangerous intensity, and in a moment of unbridled rage, she unsheathed her claws.

The metallic sound echoed through the hall as Alcina swiped at Y/N, leaving a searing trail of pain across her face. Y/N stumbled backward, a scream escaping her lips as she clutched her injured face.

The daughters rushed to Y/N's side, their expressions a blend of shock and concern. Alcina, her claws still unsheathed, stood there, stunned by the gravity of her actions.

"What have I done?" Alcina whispered, the realization of her hasty actions sinking in. The once imposing figure now seemed vulnerable, and regret flickered in her eyes as she looked at the consequences of her unchecked anger.

Bela, her expression marked by concern, handed Y/N a cloth to stem the bleeding, her eyes reflecting a mixture of sympathy and disapproval. Cassandra and Daniela exchanged disapproving glances with each other and then turned their attention to helping Y/N to her feet.

"Let's get you to your room," Cassandra suggested, her tone filled with empathy.

Y/N, still processing the shock of the incident, shook her head. "No, not our shared room. I want to go back to my old room."

The sisters exchanged a glance, a hint of worry flickering in their eyes, but they respected Y/N's wish. Together, they guided her through the dimly lit corridors to the room she once occupied before her relationship with Alcina.

Once inside, Bela took charge, helping Y/N clean the wound with a gentle touch. Y/N remained silent, her mind overwhelmed by the unexpected turn of events.

Bela, breaking the heavy silence, spoke softly, "It's going to be okay, Y/N. We'll talk to Mother about this. This is unacceptable."

Cassandra nodded in agreement. "She can't treat you like this. You deserve better."

Y/N, still in shock, whispered, "No, it's my fault. I shouldn't have pushed her."

The sisters exchanged glances, their worry deepening. Daniela spoke up, "Y/N, this isn't your fault. No one should be treated like this, especially not by their partner."

Bela added, "You're Alcina's girlfriend, and she shouldn't have reacted that way. We'll make her understand."

After ensuring that Y/N was settled in her old room, Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela left her to rest and made their way to their mother's quarters. The atmosphere within the castle was thick with tension, and the sisters were determined to address the issue at its source.

As they entered Lady Dimitrescu's room, they were met with a sight that caught them off guard. Alcina Dimitrescu, the formidable mistress of the castle, sat on the edge of her bed, her usually composed demeanor shattered. Tear stains marked her face, revealing a vulnerability the daughters rarely witnessed.

Alcina looked up, surprise and concern crossing her features. "What happened? Why are you all so upset?" she inquired, her voice strained.

Bela, her frustration evident, spoke up first. "Mother, we need to talk about what you did to Y/N."

Cassandra added with a stern tone, "She's hurt, and it's because of you."

Daniela, her expression mirroring her sisters', continued, "Bela managed to stop the bleeding, but we won't know the full extent of the damage until it heals. Mother, this is not acceptable."

Alcina's eyes widened, a mix of guilt and realization settling in. "Y/N? What did I...?" Her voice trailed off as the weight of her actions sank in.

Bela crossed her arms, her anger evident. "You attacked her, Mother. With your claws."

Cassandra's gaze remained unyielding. "She doesn't deserve to be treated that way. No one does."

Daniela, her voice stern, concluded, "We're furious, Mother. This isn't how you should handle things."

Alcina, realizing the gravity of her actions, lowered her gaze. "I didn't mean to... I was angry, and I lost control."

Bela's tone remained firm. "That's not an excuse, Mother. You need to fix this."

As the hours passed, Alcina, wrestling with the weight of her actions, mustered the courage to approach Y/N's old room. The grand halls of Dimitrescu Castle felt eerily silent as she reached the door and tentatively knocked.

A hushed, broken voice emanated from within, "I don't want to talk right now, Alcina. Please, just give me some time."

Alcina's heart sank at the sound of Y/N's quiet plea. The usually strong and composed head maid now sounded fragile and wounded. The reality of the situation hit Alcina with a force she hadn't anticipated. She respected Y/N's request, understanding that she needed the space to process the events that had unfolded.

"I understand," Alcina responded, her own voice carrying a mix of regret and sorrow. The door remained closed, a physical barrier reflective of the emotional distance that had suddenly grown between them.

The Lady of Dimitrescu Castle, with a heavy heart, turned away from the door, leaving the corridor shrouded in a somber atmosphere. Her usually confident strides now carried a hint of hesitance as she retreated, realizing the depth of the damage she had caused to the bond with the person she held dear.

As Alcina disappeared down the corridor, the echoes of her footsteps mirrored the echoes of the shattered trust between her and Y/N. The castle, once a symbol of grandeur and strength, now harbored the lingering traces of a fractured relationship, awaiting the healing touch of time and understanding.

A few weeks passed, each day stretching into a monotonous routine of solitude for Y/N. The door to her room had remained closed, a silent barrier against the outside world. One day, a soft knock echoed through the chamber, drawing her attention.

Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela stood on the other side, expressions carrying a mix of concern and determination. "Y/N, we have someone here to take a look at your injury," Bela informed, her voice gentle yet resolute.

Y/N hesitated, her gaze fixed on the floor. "I don't want to see Alcina," she replied, her voice a whisper.

Cassandra assured her, "It's not her. Please, just let them in."

Reluctantly, Y/N opened the door, allowing the sisters and an unexpected guest to enter—Mother Miranda. Y/N's eyes flickered with a mix of surprise and anger, her resentment towards the woman whose meeting had set off this chain of events palpable.

Miranda, her demeanor composed, spoke with a calm authority, "I've come to check on your injury, Y/N. May I?"

Y/N nodded, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. Miranda approached, examining the scar that marred Y/N's face. The questions she posed were gentle, yet Y/N's anger simmered beneath the surface.

As the examination progressed, Miranda's expression shifted subtly, revealing a somber realization. "The injury has started to scar over, but I'm afraid the vision in your right eye has been lost," she disclosed, her words hanging heavily in the air.

The weight of the news struck Y/N, and tears welled up in her eyes. The daughters exchanged glances, a mixture of empathy and frustration etched across their faces.

Once the examination concluded, Miranda and the daughters left the room, leaving Y/N alone with her emotions. As the door closed behind them, the dam of suppressed anger and sorrow burst, and Y/N cried out in frustration, mourning not just the physical loss but the irrevocable changes that had befallen her life.

In the dimly lit room, Y/N grappled with the harsh reality of her lost vision. Frustration and sorrow built up inside her until it erupted in a storm of emotion. Objects flew across the room, crashing against the walls, and anguished screams echoed through the castle halls.

On the first floor, the sounds reached Alcina's ears, her sharp senses detecting the turmoil unfolding above. Concern etched her features as she turned to her daughters. "What's happening? What's going on up there?"

Bela exchanged a worried glance with her sisters before reluctantly responding, "It's Y/N. She just found out about her eye."

Alcina's eyes widened in realization, the weight of guilt settling in her chest. "I need to go to her," she declared, her urgency evident.

Cassandra placed a hand on Alcina's arm, holding her back. "No, Mother. She needs time. Let her be."

Alcina's eyes flickered with a mixture of anguish and determination. "I can't just stand here. I need to be with her."

Daniela added, "Give her space, Mother. We'll be here for her when she's ready."

The distant sounds of Y/N's anguish continued, a heartbreaking symphony that resonated through the castle. Alcina, torn between the instinct to comfort and the understanding that she needed to respect Y/N's space, reluctantly acquiesced. She lingered on the first floor, her gaze fixed on the staircase leading to the source of the tumult, a silent prayer echoing in her heart for the strength to mend what had been broken.

As the weeks crawled by, Y/N remained ensconced in the solitude of her room, an unyielding barrier separating her from the world outside. The sisters, growing increasingly concerned, approached their mother with their worries.

"Mother, Y/N hasn't been herself. She refuses to eat, talk, or see anyone," Bela expressed, her concern etched across her face.

Alcina's brow furrowed with worry. "Have you tried talking to her? Maybe she needs someone to reach out."

"We've tried, Mother, but she won't let anyone in," Cassandra added.

Determined to break through the walls Y/N had erected, Alcina nodded. "I'll talk to her. Give me some time alone with her."

The next day, Y/N cautiously returned to her duties, attempting to immerse herself in work while steering clear of Alcina and her daughters. The whispers of the other maids reached her ears, their gossip fueled by the visible scar on her face. It was a constant reminder of the events that had unfolded.

One day, as she went about her tasks, a particularly cruel maid approached, taunting her about the scar. Y/N, already on edge, couldn't suppress her irritation and retorted. Before the situation could escalate, Alcina materialized, her presence commanding attention.

"What is going on here?" Alcina's voice cut through the tension, her eyes narrowing as she surveyed the scene.

The maid, caught off guard, stammered, "I was just... having a little fun, Lady Dimitrescu."

Alcina's gaze shifted to Y/N, awaiting an explanation. Y/N, though visibly distressed, spoke up, "She was making comments about the scar on my face. I couldn't just stand there."

Alcina's expression hardened, a protective glint in her eyes. "Such behavior is unacceptable. Leave us, now."

The maid scurried away, and Alcina turned her attention to Y/N, her demeanor softening. "Come with me. We need to talk."

Alcina led Y/N to her private chamber, the heavy door closing behind them, creating a cocoon of relative privacy. The room, adorned with opulent furnishings, felt both familiar and distant as they settled into an uneasy silence.

Alcina, her concern palpable, observed Y/N closely. The once vibrant head maid appeared frail, her features worn and her form diminished. Finally, breaking the silence, Alcina spoke gently, "Y/N, you've changed. You're not taking care of yourself. What happened?"

Y/N, still shrouded in her own turmoil, remained silent, her eyes fixed on a distant point. Alcina, persistent, continued, "You've lost so much weight, and your health has taken a toll. Please, talk to me."

The words hung in the air for a moment before Y/N's composure crumbled. She broke into sobs, the weight of her emotions pouring out in a torrent. Alcina, her stern exterior softening, moved closer and wrapped her arms around Y/N, offering a comforting embrace.

Y/N, between gasps for air, managed to utter, "Everything is falling apart, Alcina. I can't... I can't see, and everyone treats me differently. I feel so lost."

Alcina tightened her hold, offering a steadying presence. "You're not alone, Y/N. I'm here for you. We'll get through this together. Please, tell me what happened."

As Y/N poured out her heart, detailing the loneliness, despair, and the weight of her physical and emotional pain over the past weeks, Alcina listened with an understanding gaze. Her touch remained a steady anchor, a reassurance that Y/N wasn't alone in the darkness that had consumed her.

"It's okay to feel this way, Y/N," Alcina murmured, validating the tumult of emotions Y/N had laid bare. "You've been through so much, and it's perfectly normal to feel overwhelmed."

As Y/N's sobs gradually subsided, exhaustion claimed her, and she felt herself drifting into a fatigue-laden slumber. She hesitated, apologizing as she began to withdraw from Alcina's embrace, intending to retreat to her own solitude.

Alcina, however, gently tightened her hold. "Don't apologize, Y/N. You can stay if you want, and you don't need to be alone tonight."

Y/N, both surprised and grateful, managed a weak smile. "I don't want to impose."

"You're not imposing, Y/N," Alcina reassured her. "This is your room too."

Y/N, looking up at Alcina with a hint of shock, asked a question that had been haunting her thoughts. "Do you still want me to be your girlfriend, even though I'm... hideous now?"

Alcina tilted Y/N's chin, meeting her eyes with a tender gaze. "Y/N, I didn't fall in love with you because of your looks. I fell in love with your caring and empathetic personality, the way you get along with my daughters, your confidence, and perseverance. You're still the gorgeous woman I fell in love with, changes and all."

In the soft glow of understanding, Y/N felt a weight lifted from her shoulders. It was a pivotal moment, a testament to the resilience of their connection.

As Y/N let out a weary sigh, Alcina's gaze softened. "You need to take care of yourself, Y/N. I want to help you, starting with your eating. We can take it at your pace, no pressure."

Y/N hesitated, her eyes reflecting both gratitude and trepidation. "I... I don't want to be a burden."

"You're not a burden, Y/N," Alcina affirmed, her voice gentle but firm. "We're in this together. I'll support you every step of the way, at your pace. You're not alone anymore."

Gently, Alcina lifted Y/N and guided her to the bed, ensuring she was comfortable. She left momentarily to prepare for bed, the room bathed in the soft glow of the evening. When she returned, Y/N had shifted, her eyes heavy with fatigue.

Y/N moved closer to Alcina, who welcomed her with open arms. Alcina, with a tender touch, pulled Y/N close, wrapping her arms protectively around her. Y/N, feeling the warmth of Alcina's embrace, couldn't help but apologize.

"I'm sorry, Alcina. I shouldn't have pushed you that day after the meeting," Y/N whispered, a trace of regret in her voice.

Alcina, with a gentle touch, guided Y/N's face to meet her gaze. "Draga mea, you have nothing to apologize for. None of this is your fault. It was my mistake, and I should have never let it escalate to that point."

The room was enveloped in a serene quiet as Alcina, their faces mere inches apart, made a promise that hung in the air like a vow. "It will never happen again, draga mea."

In that moment of shared vulnerability and understanding, Alcina's eyes flickered to Y/N's lips. As anticipation lingered, Alcina leaned in, closing the distance between them, and pressed a soft, tender kiss upon Y/N's lips. Y/N responded, reciprocating the kiss with a warmth that bridged the gap of the painful past, her fingers gently lacing into Alcina's raven-colored curls.

The kiss lingered in the air for a timeless moment, a delicate exchange that spoke of forgiveness and a shared commitment to moving beyond the shadows of the past. As they broke the kiss, their foreheads met, a shared sanctuary of quiet understanding and the weight of unspoken emotions.

Alcina's eyes, still locked onto Y/N's, reflected a blend of sincerity and tenderness. The promise lingered in the air, a silent vow that carried the weight of redemption and the hope for a different future. The room seemed to hold its breath, cocooned in the aftermath of the shared connection.

Softly, Alcina pressed a gentle kiss on Y/N's forehead, a symbol of reassurance and protection. Y/N, touched by the tender gesture, rested her head in the crook of Alcina's neck. In this intimate closeness, Y/N breathed in the scents that defined Alcina — the rich undertones of wine, the lingering fragrance of her perfume, and the faint hint of cigarettes, a distinctive blend that was uniquely and unmistakably Alcina Dimitrescu.

The room, once a witness to turmoil, now became a haven for two souls seeking solace. Alcina's fingers traced gentle patterns on Y/N's back, a soothing touch that spoke volumes of unspoken understanding. The quietude was only broken by the occasional crackling of the fireplace, casting a warm, flickering glow that danced across the room.

In the silent exchange between them, words seemed redundant. The complexities of their shared history were reduced to the simplicity of this moment, where forgiveness, love, and the promise of a different tomorrow unfolded in the gentle interplay of their breaths.

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