#wanda x yn

[maximoffsgirl]

Baby It's Cold Outside

summary: When helping Wanda move into her new apartment, Christmas feels just a little closer as she convinces you to stay, after all, it was too cold outside

warnings: Alcohol consumption, established relationship, Christmas songs/vibe, otherwise there's none, this is pure fluff.

author's note: to everyone who celebrates, MERRY CHRISTMAS!!! I hope you're all having a wonderful Christmas, stay safe! ❤️

just a small christmas thing :)

words count: 2380

not proofread

You sank deeper into Wanda’s new couch, the plush fabric practically swallowing you whole. Wanda couldn't help but smile at the sight of you so comfortably curled up in her living room. She appeared moments later, holding two cups of eggnog, the glow of the Christmas lights reflecting softly off the glasses.

Aa she approached, you sat up just enough to take one from her hand, fingers brushing hers as you did. A small sigh escaped your lips as you gazed down at the creamy, alcoholic drink.

“I really can’t stay…” you murmured, eyeing your girlfriend who gave no mind to your words.

It was meant to be a quick visit—a simple “hi” and a little help rearranging some things in her new apartment. Somehow, that quick visit had stretched into an afternoon of unpacking, followed by hot chocolate and a Christmas movie she insisted on watching. “For good luck,” she had claimed.

Now, you sat there with a eggnog on hand, waiting for her to join you again, knowing full well that you should be going soon.

Wanda swayed her hips playfully as she approached you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Leaning down just enough, she brought her lips close to your ear, her voice a low murmur as you sip little by little your drink.

“It’s cold outside, beautiful. What’s your hurry?”

You couldn’t help but smile, tucking a stubborn strand of hair behind her ear. “My family is here, Wanda. My parents will start to worry,” you reasoned softly, though the teasing smirk tugging at her lips made it clear she had other plans in mind.

She chuckled, nodding as if she agreed, though her expression betrayed her pretense. “Finish your drink, princess,” she coaxed, her tone both sweet and persuasive.

“Babe, I’m serious,” you muttered, though your resolve was already faltering. “They’ll start calling me nonstop soon.”

Gently taking your wrist, Wanda guided your hand with the eggnog to your lips. “Just half a drink more?” she tried again, her sweet smile all but sealing your fate.

You rolled your eyes playfully, tapping her thigh twice as you relented. “Go put some records on, then.”

Grinning, she placed her mug on the side table and sashayed toward her collection of vinyl records. After a brief search, she pulled out a Christmas classic and placed it on the turntable, letting the festive melody fill the room and lighten the mood.

You took another sip of the eggnog, humming at the familiar, warm taste as Wanda reached for your free hand. Gently, but with that unmistakable air of playful dominance, she pulled you toward her. One arm wrapped securely around your waist as she began to sway, her movements perfectly in time with “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town,” which echoed softly through the apartment.

You couldn’t hold back your laughter at her playful antics. Mimicking her, you swayed your hips jokingly, lifting one arm high to keep your drink from any accidental spills.

“Mind if I move in closer?” Wanda murmured, her voice low and teasing as she pulled you even tighter against her.

Your smile only grew as you felt the slight dizziness creeping in—whether from the drink or Wanda’s presence, you weren’t sure. Maybe the extra liquor she’d mischievously added was finally taking its toll.

“I really can’t stay,” you managed to remind her, even as your body instinctively followed hers.

While moving around, Wanda pouted dramatically, her hands tightening their grip on your hips. “You’re hurting my pride,” she said, nodding along with her words, as if trying to make a convincing case.

You laughed, the sound light and teasing. “Your pride?!” you teased back, arching a brow at her.

She simply nodded, a mischievous glint in her eyes, and tugged you even closer. Before you could react, she stole the eggnog from your hand, bringing it to your lips.

“Drink,” she commanded softly, and you complied, raising your eyebrows as you took another sip. She followed your actions, bringing the drink to her own lips, before giving it to you again. You took another sip, setting the glass on the kitchen counter.

Wanda began to sing along with Frank Sinatra, her voice soft and smooth as she moved her head to the rhythm. Her smile was radiant, but her eyes were fixed on you with a teasing intensity.

With every sentence, she inched closer, her hands still guiding your movements. Just as you thought you could predict her next move, she leaned in and stole a quick, unexpected kiss, her lips brushing against yours while she continued singing.

“What’s in that drink?!” you exclaimed, glaring at her playfully as her arms remained draped around your neck, guiding you in a slow dance across the living room.

“Lots of love,” Wanda teased, stepping back just enough to twirl you around, her mischievous smile never wavering. You giggled, letting her pull you back into her warm embrace.

As you caught your breath, you grabbed her hands, playfully lifting them to rest on top of your head. Both of you spun together, your movements fluid and in sync until you came back face-to-face, laughing softly.

Wanda was quick to pull you even closer, humming the tune of what you recognized to be “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas,” her voice soft and sweet.

You swayed lazily across the room, your bodies moving in a rhythm that wasn’t guided by the music but by the simple joy of being together. Wanda’s hands rested gently on your waist, her touch warm and reassuring, while your own arms draped loosely around her neck. Every so often, she’d spin you playfully, her laughter blending seamlessly with yours, filling the apartment with a melody of happiness.

The faint scent of pine lingered in the air, mingling with the eggnog scent. The soft glow of fairy lights illuminated the space, casting a warm and cozy light over the new apartment. The sound of your laughter echoed against the bare walls, making the empty corners feel full of life and love

“Your hands are still just like ice,” she teased, taking your hands gently and pressing soft kisses to the backs of them. The warmth of her lips sent a small shiver up your spine.

Before you could respond, the sharp buzz of your phone broke the moment, its vibrations echoing in the quiet room.

Wanda let out an exaggerated groan as you pulled away to check it, rolling her eyes at the interruption. You managed to glance at the screen before the call ended, the name “Dad” glowing brightly.

“See?” you said, raising an eyebrow at her while slipping the phone back onto the table.

Your expression said it all: I told you so.

As you started gathering your things, Wanda stood behind you, grumbling softly as she slid her hands around your hips, gently pulling you back against her.

Her lips brushed against the curve of your neck, her kisses soft and deliberate as she tried to distract you from packing.

“You’re very pushy, you know,” you murmured, unable to suppress a smile as her touch sent a wave of warmth through you.

You felt as she shrugged behind you, her smile pressing into the curve of your neck. “Hm… I like to think of it as being opportunistic.”

With a gentle but firm turn, Wanda spun you around to face her, her gaze soft yet filled with mischief. You groaned dramatically, pretending to be exasperated, but deep down, you couldn’t help but marvel at how stunning she looked in the soft glow of the apartment lights. How could one be this beautiful?

“I don’t want to worry them, love,” you whispered, trying to maintain your resolve even as her fingers gently traced your waist.

Her fingers traced soft, lazy circles against your skin, slipping under the hem of the oversized sweater you wore. Wanda’s touch was warm despite the chill that hung in the air.

“And look at that! It’s already snowing and—” you began, your words tumbling out in a rush. You weren’t sure if you were complaining, reasoning, or simply trying to distract yourself from the way her fingertips skimmed along your waist. Somewhere in the middle of your rambling, Wanda’s lips curled into a knowing smile.

“Gosh, your lips look delicious,” she said, her voice low and teasing.

The words pulled you out of your tangent, and suddenly you were acutely aware of the way her hands had wandered higher, resting just below your ribs. Her lazy smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth, and her eyes—soft, deep green—pinned you in place.

You faltered, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks as you took her in. Wanda had this way of looking at you, making you feel as if the whole world had quieted down around the two of you. Her cheekbones, flushed pink from the cold, seemed to invite your lips closer. And her mouth, just by simply breathing, curved in a way that made you want to kiss her endlessly.

“No, no, no,” you mumbled, more to yourself than to her.

With a sudden twist, you wriggled free of her hold, spinning away and putting as much distance between you and her gravitational pull as possible.

Wanda laughed, low and soft, as if she knew exactly what you were doing. Her gaze followed you as she plucked her drink from the table, taking a slow sip while leaning casually against the armrest of the couch.

“I really have to get home,” you muttered, narrowing your eyes at her as if to warn her not to try anything.

“Baby, you’ll freeze out there,” she teased, her laughter echoing through the room. The way you paced back and forth, flustered, only seemed to amuse her more.

You continued, rambling on about how your parents would worry, how the snow was starting to stick—until somehow, you found yourself directly in front of her again.

Wanda saw her chance and took it.

In one smooth motion, she tugged you closer, pushing until the backs of your knees hit the couch. With a quiet yelp, you fell onto the soft cushions, only for Wanda to follow, climbing over you with ease. Her drink now long forgotten on the small glass table.

Her weight pressed you deeper into the plush fabric, and instinctively, your hands slid to her hips.

She leaned in slowly—agonizingly so—until her face hovered inches from yours. And when she finally closed the distance, capturing your lips with hers, the world outside ceased to matter.

The kiss was slow at first, her lips warm and familiar, as she carefully slid her tongue across your bottom lip - not that you could ever deny her the silent ask. Wanda’s fingers tangled in your hair, softly trailing down to your neck, tilting your head just so as the kiss deepened, your tongues moving in a mutual pleasure.

Your hands gripped her waist tighter, pulling her impossibly closer. Each movement felt like second nature, as if the two of you had danced this dance a thousand times before.

Wanda's lips brushed against yours, lingering softly as she pulled back just enough to watch your reaction. A quiet hum escaped your throat as you instinctively leaned forward, chasing her for another kiss.

“Gosh, your lips are delicious,” she teased, her voice low and warm as she smirked down at you.

Letting out an exaggerated sigh, you flopped back onto the couch with a dramatic groan. “How can you do this to me?”

Wanda laughed, the soft sound echoing through the cozy room as her fingers lazily traced small circles over your sweater. The simple touch left goosebumps trailing in its wake.

“Darling, it’s cold outside,” she said sweetly, tilting her head as if she were earnestly concerned. But the glint in her eyes gave her away. “I wouldn’t want my pretty girl to catch pneumonia and die. That would be such a shame.”

She pouted, the very picture of faux sincerity, but you knew better. Wanda only pulled this act when she was feeling particularly smug—or when she was trying to get her way.

“Would we, baby? Hm?”

Your resolve wavered as you met her gaze.

Begrudgingly, you shook your head, looking at the ceiling, completely unamused with the way she was acting. You sank further into the couch while Wanda’s smile grew.

She smiled at your playful - cute - action, gently cupping your chin, guiding your eyes back to hers with the lightest touch. The playfulness in her expression softened just enough to make your heart flutter.

“I guess… I could finish my drink,” you mumbled, attempting nonchalance as if you weren’t completely giving in.

Wanda’s eyes sparkled, and she twirled a lock of your hair around her finger, leaning closer with a soft, content sigh. “Well, that took a lot of convincing,” she quipped, lips twitching into a grin.

Rolling your eyes, you swatted at her arm in mock indignation before abruptly sitting up. Wanda yelped softly as she lost her balance, falling back against the couch with an indignant glare.

But before she could retaliate, you were already on your feet, making your way to the kitchen counter with an exaggerated sway of your hips—one you made sure she wouldn’t miss.

Wanda’s eyes stayed glued to you, and you could practically feel her gaze burning into your back.

“Tease,” she muttered under her breath, though you caught the fondness laced in her voice.

As “Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!” drifted from the speakers, blending seamlessly with the crackling warmth of the apartment, she stayed sprawled on the couch, her gaze following you as you finished the last sip of your drink. The satisfied smile tugging at her lips told you she knew she’d won—without ever needing to say a word.

With a content sigh, you padded back over to the couch, curling into her like it was second nature. The space between you vanished as Wanda’s head rested comfortably on your chest, pulling you flush against her side, your hands tightly around her waist and legs tangled together.

You reached for the remote and lazily tossed it into her lap. “Your turn to pick,” you mumbled, already feeling the soft lull of sleep tug at your edges.

Outside, the snow had started to fall harder, blanketing the city in shimmering white. But inside—wrapped in Wanda’s embrace, the soft rhythm of her breathing on top of you—the cold felt like a distant thing.

The weather outside was, indeed, frightful. But being tucked against her, fingers intertwined beneath the thick blankets, felt far more delightful than anything you could have wished ��Dear Santa” for.

✄╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌

thanks for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it💌

Masterlist

[imtryingbuck]

Regrets

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!Reader

Summary: you and Wanda were best friends until she left you in the Hydra base.

Word count: 963

Warnings: abuse. death (starvation). no happy ending.

Masterlist

Today is the anniversary of escaping Hydra for Wanda, it should have been a happier time since it meant that she was no longer in the clutches of those that used and abused her, but everyday she was plagued by the constant memory of what she had done that day, and just like everyday the last words you ever spoke to her play on her mind, day in and day out.

"You were my family.”

The way your voice cracked broke her heart, she remembers the way you stuttered as you willed yourself to look at her through the thick glass window, the way you turned around and dropped your head along with your shoulders in defeat as you moved further into the room, into the darkness.

Leaving you in the Hydra base wasn’t something she wanted to do, she wanted the life you both had planned and dreamed about with each other. However, Wanda was selfish as she walked past your cell door, you clocking her straight away and begging for her to let you out, but all she said was she needed to find her brother. You told her you would help her, she told you just to wait and she’ll come back to you.

You knew, you knew she wasn’t coming back for you and you accepted it. She didn’t have any obligation to do anything for you but you still begged anyway, thinking-hoping that everything you two had planned together would become a reality.

But she left, left you alone scared and confused for what what’s happening and what was to come. 

It wasn’t until Wanda was safe up high in the sky that it dawned on her that she had left you behind.

Every night since being at the tower she sits on the soft fluffy carpet in her room and talks softly to herself through the a hole she had made in the wall. 

Every night she’s cries when you don’t reply. The realisation that you’re not there, safe just the same as she is hits her hard. Every time.

As the years passed she thought of you daily, hoping that you were safe, hoping that you was with Pietro and causing mischief wherever you two were.

She tried to justify what she had done not like it made any difference. She tried to live her life like she thought you hoped she would, but it didn’t make it any easier as you weren’t by her side.

The only people that knew what she had done was her, you and Pietro and since you and her brother were no longer here, it made it easier for Wanda to suffer in silence.

Though Wanda did smile and laugh more there was always times where the Avengers - her found family - would notice her smile or laughter fading away quickly. Never knowing that she would torment herself for wondering if you would have smiled or laughed at the thing that was being said or done.

She didn’t have many regrets in her life but leaving you behind was number one.

Wanda couldn’t breathe or take her eyes off the screen.

Her chest tightened painfully, her vision blurred with thick burning tears.

“-Wand? Wanda? Are you alright?” Steve asks when he noticed the change in his friends demeanour.

“I-I know h-her” she rasps.

The teams eyes bounce from Wanda to the woman in the photo. The woman was found by SHIELD chained to a wall at the Hydra base they overtook, the bruises and deep lacerations that covered her very slim frame made Steve gulp and Tony’s eyes drop down to his hands.

“How?”

“She was with me when I was with Hydra, her cell was next to mine” She stutters out.

“Was she not there when we found you?” Steve asks again.

“I-I told her I’d come back for her but-but I didn’t  I didn’t go back” Wanda cries.

“Wanda…”

“I know alright I left her all alone”.

“I’m sorry”. Steve sighs, a beat or two go by before he speaks again “Wand did she have any abilities?”

“She can heal faster than normal”

“What was the main reason for her being there? Do you know?” Tony now asks.

“Because…so we-the experiments could train on her, they would make us do awful things to her but she always survived it.”

“Jesus…”

“Was-was it quick?”

“Wan-“

“Yes or no Steve was it quick?”

Finding his eyes filling with tears, he looks at his friend with remorse. “No. Sh-she died of starvation, Wanda I’m so sorry”

“Do they know when she died?”

“Don’t do this to yourself, it’s not going to cha-“

“Steve please!” She begs him to tell her the truth no matter how much it was going to pain her.

“Th-they estimate that s-she died seven hours before they found her”

All this time and you was still alive, because she left she assumed you had died. You were alive and being tortured by god knows who. You were all alone, probably thinking no one even cared about you and it was all her fault, if she had gone back or even got you out first then you would have known the love and warmth of a family. 

You had given up, lost the fight seven hours before you were found. And it was all her fault.

The team watches as she stands up and walks away, she doesn’t get far as the heart breaking, gut wrenching scream tore through the barrier of her lips causes her to drop to her knees.

She didn’t have many regrets in her life but leaving you behind was number one and the second biggest regret she had was never being able to tell you how much she loved you.

~ banner credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

[darkenedwhispers]

A dream unraveled

Pairing | Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Warning | Smut

Her thumbs traced slow, featherlight circles over the bare skin of your hips, sending a warmth curling deep in your stomach. Her lips followed the curve of your neck, pressing soft, lingering kisses that left your skin tingling. "You're mine," she whispered, her breath hot against your ear.

The scent of cherries surrounded you—sweet, familiar, intoxicating. She always smelled like that, like something rich and overripe, something you wanted to drown in. Her fingers drifted lower, slipping beneath your skirt, teasing, promising—

And then your alarm ripped through the moment, yanking you back into reality.

You groaned, fumbling to silence it before collapsing face-first into your pillow. Five weeks. Every damn night, the same dream. The same woman. Just close enough to touch—only to disappear the moment you reached for her. It was starting to drive you insane.

The weight of the dream still clung to you, thick and heavy like honey, making it almost impossible to pull yourself out of bed. With a deep sigh, you finally forced yourself up, stretching as the cool morning air kissed your skin. Your body still hummed from the ghost of her touch, the scent of cherries almost lingering in the back of your mind. It was ridiculous. It was just a dream. And yet…

Shaking off the thought, you dragged yourself to the bathroom, flicking on the light. The brightness stung your tired eyes, but you ignored it, turning on the shower and stepping under the stream of hot water. The warmth seeped into your muscles, washing away the remnants of sleep, but it did nothing to erase the lingering frustration coiling inside you. Five weeks of this. Five weeks of waking up aching for someone who didn’t even exist.

You pressed your forehead against the cool tile, letting the water run down your back, trying to shake off the feeling. It wasn’t working.

Eventually, you sighed and reached for the soap, the familiar scent grounding you in reality. Wake up. Move on. Forget.

By the time you stepped out, steam curled around the small bathroom, blurring your reflection in the mirror. You wiped a hand across the glass, meeting your own tired eyes. “You need to get a grip,” you muttered to yourself before toweling off and heading to your closet.

You threw on a simple outfit—something comfortable but presentable. Nothing too fancy. You weren’t in the mood to overthink it.

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand just as you were slipping on your shoes. A message from Natasha.

Natty: Don’t forget we have that meeting today. Pls don’t be late again.

You rolled your eyes but typed back a quick “Yeah, yeah. I got it.”

Natasha was your coworker. Kind of your friend. Kind of a pain in the ass. She had a way of making sure you stayed somewhat functional, though, and for that, you tolerated her early-morning texts.

Grabbing your bag, you made your way out of the apartment, locking the door behind you. The city air was crisp, the sidewalks already busy with people rushing to work, to school, to whatever lives they had. You fell into step with the crowd, the dream still lurking at the edges of your thoughts.

A coffee shop sat on the corner of your usual route, the scent of roasted beans pulling you in. The line wasn’t too bad, and within minutes, you were standing at the counter.

"Morning," the baristi greeted with a tired but friendly smile. He had dark brown eyes and a name tag that read Peter. "The usual?"

You nodded. "Yeah, thanks."

As he moved to make your drink, your gaze drifted to the window. For a second—just a second—you swore you saw her. The woman from your dreams. Standing on the other side of the glass. Watching.

Your breath caught, heart lurching into your throat, but when you blinked—she was gone.

"Here you go," Peter said, setting your drink on the counter.

You hesitated for a beat before shaking it off, forcing a small smile as you took the cup. "Thanks."

Your hands felt unsteady as you walked out, the warmth of the coffee grounding you. It was just your imagination. Just your stupid, exhausted brain playing tricks on you.

And yet, even as you continued toward work, you couldn't shake the feeling that someone—somewhere—was still watching.

The office buzzed with the usual hum of productivity as you entered, the sound of keyboards clicking and phones ringing filling the air. You took a deep breath, letting the scent of fresh coffee and paper hang around you for a moment. Today was going to be long.

You spotted Natasha in the corner, already settling into her cubicle. She gave you a quick look as you walked by, raising an eyebrow. "Cutting it close again, huh?"

You just waved her off, walking toward your desk and dropping your bag on the chair. Not the first time. You opened your laptop and quickly logged in, your fingers automatically hitting the keys as you organized your calendar for the day. You had an 8:30 client call, a 9:00 status update with the team, and then the big meeting at 10:00. The one where they’d be discussing project deliverables, timelines, and making sure everyone was on track. It was always a tightrope walk—between the pressure to impress and the unavoidable, silent judgment from your managers.

You heard Natasha tapping away on her keyboard, probably already planning out her day with the precision of someone who had done it a thousand times. As much as you found her overly punctual mornings annoying, you had to admit, she did know how to stay organized.

You took a deep breath and started pulling up the client documents you'd need for the call.

"Ready for the meeting?" Natasha asked, her voice cutting through the air as she looked over from her desk. Her tone was surprisingly neutral, but you could tell by the way she straightened her posture that she was already mentally preparing for the worst.

"Absolutely not," you muttered, glancing at the clock. "The usual chaos, you know."

She smirked, shaking her head. "You really need to stop acting like this is the end of the world. It's just a meeting."

"Just a meeting," you repeated, trying not to roll your eyes. "Tell that to the boss."

The redhead snorted. "Fair point. Let's just get it over with."

As the minutes ticked down, the office started filling with more noise—people moving in and out of the break room, printers whirring, colleagues laughing quietly as they gathered papers for their own meetings. You ran through your presentation one last time, adjusting a few figures here and there, and double-checking that you had everything in line. You were ready enough.

At 9:00 sharp, Natasha stood up and stretched. "Let’s go. I think Tony wants to start right on time today."

You nodded, grabbing your notebook and walking with her toward the conference room at the end of the hall. You passed a few colleagues on the way—Steve , who was already looking at his phone, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and Bruce, who was shuffling papers in his hands, likely trying to hide his nervousness. You couldn't blame him; meetings like these could easily turn into mini hellscapes if things didn’t go well.

The conference room door was already half-open when you got there, and you could hear the low murmur of voices inside. As you walked in, you spotted the usual faces: Tony, the project manager, sitting at the head of the table; Lena, the senior analyst, typing away furiously on her laptop; and Clint, who was always early but somehow still late to the actual conversation.

"Morning, everyone," Tony said, offering a smile as you and Natasha took your seats. "Let's get started."

You opened your laptop, ready for the next hour of tedious updates, slides, and bullet points. Tony kicked things off by going over the high-level objectives for the quarter—keeping everyone on track for deadlines, reviewing budget allocations, and making sure no one was missing any key data. Then, the floor was opened up to the rest of the team for progress updates.

Your turn came up quickly.

"Alright," Tony said, tapping his pen on the table as he looked at you. "What’s the status on the Smith account? Any roadblocks we need to address?"

You cleared your throat and stood up, the familiar pressure of presenting creeping in. "So, we’re on track for the deliverables this week. There were a few issues with vendor delays, but I’ve been in touch with Laura, and we’ve worked out a solution. We’re still on schedule for the client’s review by Friday."

He nodded, scribbling something down. "Good. Keep an eye on those vendor relationships, though. We can’t afford more delays."

You sat back down, feeling the weight lift slightly, but the meeting kept going—each team member reporting on their projects, the conversation moving back and forth with a smooth rhythm, but always slightly tense. It wasn’t that anyone disliked each other; it was just the nature of corporate life—the unspoken competition, the subtle judgment, the pressure of having to look like you were always ahead, even when you weren’t.

Eventually, the meeting hit a lull, and you could feel the tension ease just a little.

"Alright, let’s wrap up," Tony said, tapping his pen one last time. "We’re all clear on next steps. Let’s make sure we keep each other updated."

As the group began to pack up, you exchanged a quick glance with Natasha. She was already shutting her laptop with a satisfied look on her face. "Well, that wasn’t so bad, huh?"

You nodded, though you weren’t as convinced. "Sure, it’s over. But now we have to deal with the aftermath."

"That’s what we get paid for," she said with a grin, standing up and stretching.

"Yeah, yeah," you replied, rolling your eyes. "Let’s get to it."

The rest of the day was filled with the usual post-meeting tasks: updating progress reports, responding to emails, following up on action items. But now, at least, there was a bit of relief in the air. As you settled back at your desk, the tension from the meeting slowly melted away. It was just another day, just another week of the endless grind. But for now, you could breathe.

The clock seemed to drag its hands toward 5:00 PM, the minutes ticking by slower than you'd like. The day had been long, but you finally managed to finish up the last of your tasks—closing out emails, updating your project tracker, and responding to a few last-minute requests from the team. You glanced at the clock. It was 4:50, and after one final click of the mouse, you powered down your computer and grabbed your bag.

Natasha of course, was still sitting at her desk, typing away with the kind of focus that only seemed to come when everyone else had mentally checked out for the day. You slung your bag over your shoulder and waved goodbye as you headed toward the exit. "See you tomorrow," you said, already knowing Mia would probably be staying an extra hour to finish her own work.

The evening air was cooler than you'd expected as you stepped outside, the crispness of the wind a welcome contrast to the suffocating office heat. You pulled your jacket tighter around you, feeling the tension from the day ease away with each step. The city was buzzing with its usual rhythm—people heading home from work, cars honking, the distant hum of traffic.

You stopped by the corner store, picking up a few essentials for dinner—nothing fancy, just a quick fix. Some pasta, tomatoes, garlic, and a bottle of wine. It was one of those days where you just didn’t feel like doing anything too complicated, but you still wanted something warm to end the night with.

Back in your apartment, you kicked off your shoes and tossed your bag onto the couch. The familiar quiet of your space wrapped around you like a soft blanket. You sighed, the last remnants of work stress slipping away with each passing moment. After setting the groceries down on the counter, you washed your hands and got to work.

The kitchen smelled like garlic almost immediately as you chopped it up, the tiny bits of garlic releasing their rich aroma. The tomatoes were diced, and you added them to the pan, letting them soften in the olive oil as you stirred. The sizzle was comforting, almost like music after a long day. You added the pasta to the boiling water, letting it cook while you sipped the glass of wine you’d poured earlier.

The faint sound of the faucet running in the background, the quiet hum of your apartment—everything felt peaceful, a far cry from the chaos of the office. As the pasta finished, you tossed it in with the sauce, letting everything simmer together just long enough to marry the flavors. You took a bite, nodding at the simplicity of it all. It wasn’t gourmet, but it didn’t need to be. It was comfort food, something to help you unwind.

After finishing your plate, you cleaned up quickly and headed for the bathroom. The sound of the shower running was like a sigh from your own body, eager to rid itself of the weight of the day. The warm water hit your skin, the tension melting away as the steam rose around you.

You stood there for a while, eyes closed, letting the water wash over you. The scent of your shampoo mixed with the lingering fragrance of garlic and wine. You scrubbed away the day, the simple act of being clean enough to make you feel human again. Your thoughts drifted back to work for a moment—that meeting earlier, the weird tension in the air—but you pushed it aside. It was over.

When you finally stepped out, the bathroom was foggy, the mirror almost completely covered in steam. You wiped it down with your towel, looking at yourself in the reflection for a second. Your eyes were a little tired, your skin a little worn, but you didn't mind. You were doing okay. Just another day survived.

You dressed quickly in something comfortable—just sweatpants and an old tee—and made your way back to the living room. The evening felt endless in the best way. You plopped down on the couch, pulled a blanket over yourself, and grabbed the TV remote. After flicking through a few channels, you settled on something familiar—nothing that required too much thought, just background noise as you finally let your body rest.

It wasn’t exactly an exciting night, but that was fine with you. It was quiet. It was yours.

The night stretched out, quiet and soothing, as you settled under the covers. The soft glow of the lamp in the corner dimmed as you turned off your bedside light and snuggled deeper into your pillow. You closed your eyes, letting the sounds of the city outside blend into a low hum. Sleep came quickly, an easy escape after a long day.

The dream came back to you, familiar and yet different this time. The moment her presence enveloped you, it felt deeper, more intense than the previous nights. Her scent—the sweet, intoxicating smell of cherries—was stronger this time. It was real, almost as though it had filled your room, wrapping around you like a blanket. You could almost feel her body next to yours, the air charged with anticipation.

You felt her hands on your skin, soft and gentle, tracing patterns on your arms, your hips. Her lips were now more tangible, more real, as they pressed against your neck, your jawline, slowly making their way down. The sensation of her lips on your skin felt so vivid, it almost burned. The warmth of her breath against you sent chills rushing down your spine. Her touch was intoxicating, and for a moment, you couldn’t tell if you were dreaming or if this was something more, something real.

Then, her lips found your cunt, and you gasped softly, the feeling so much sharper than anything before. Her kiss, her soft caresses, felt more deliberate, more alive. Each touch was electric, and the air around you seemed to hum with an energy that made it impossible to breathe without feeling her presence filling every part of you. Her lips traveled against your slit smoothly, taking off all of your lasts drops of sanity

You felt her hands shift higher, trailing up your body, teasing your skin with every inch of contact. But before you could even process the sensation, everything shifted, the dream turning into something darker, more tangible, more visceral.

You blinked, eyes opening in a haze of confusion. The room was dim, and you realized your legs were spread, her body nestled between them. You could feel the weight of her against you, the warmth of her breath brushing against the inside of your thighs. She was here. No longer a figment of your imagination. Real. You could almost feel her, too real for it to be a dream.

Your heart hammered in your chest as the situation became clearer. The scent of cherries filled the air, unmistakable. The warmth of her body, the press of her lips against your clit, all too vivid. You gasped softly, your breath catching in your throat.

"You’re awake," she whispered against your core, her voice low and husky. It wasn’t a question—it was a knowing. As if she had always intended for you to wake at this moment.

You swallowed hard, feeling a mix of confusion and something else rising in you, something that pulled you toward her without hesitation. You didn’t want to push her away. The connection was too strong, too undeniable.

Her lips moved, tracing your pelvis with slow, deliberate kisses, each one making it harder to think clearly. Her touch was so real, her presence so overwhelming, you couldn’t help but react. You gasped softly, feeling her warmth against you, the electricity building with each touch.

"You’re not dreaming," she murmured, her voice thick with something unspoken, something powerful. Her words weren’t a question, but an affirmation, as if she knew exactly what you were feeling—knew exactly what she was doing.

"W-what..." You barely managed to form the words, your voice a whisper. “How are you... here?”

She didn’t answer right away, instead pressing her lips softly against your bundle of nerves , as if tasting you, savoring the moment. Her hands moved over you, pulling you closer, urging you into her touch with a steady, possessive force.

"You’ve been dreaming about me," she whispered against your center, her tone teasing, as though she’d been waiting for you to finally acknowledge what had been happening between you both.

You gasped, breathless, as she pulled away slightly, her fingers tracing the curve of your jaw, tilting your face up toward hers. There was something in her eyes—something intense, almost dangerous, but not in a way that frightened you. It was hunger, desire, and it made your pulse race faster.

"I couldn’t stay away," she whispered, her lips brushing against yours, a kiss that felt like an unspoken truth, something deeper than either of you could yet understand.

You didn’t need to ask who she was. In that moment, you knew—it was irrelevant. There was only the undeniable connection between you. You were pulled to her, unable to resist the force drawing you closer, deeper into her embrace.

Her hands were on your body, guiding you without hesitation. She was in control, but there was no fear in you—just the pull of the moment, the raw energy between you. You could feel her, taste her presence, and for the first time, you realized that this was no dream. She was real. This was real.

The boundaries between you faded, leaving nothing but the heat of her touch, the press of her lips against your skin, and the undeniable, magnetic pull that kept you both entwined in this moment.

[oizysian]

I Need You | Wanda Maximoff

Pairing: Scarlet Witch x Spiderwoman!Y/N

Summary: Spiderwoman!Y/N helps Scarlet Witch get her kids back.

Warnings: magic cock, breeding, slight dubcon

Word count: 1.3k

AN: a post by @hopelesslygaysstuff inspired this. Also, I’m just perverted so that’s what happened.

“Now that you’ve found me, what do you intend on doing with me?” She asked, almost sarcastically, a playful lilt to her voice.

“I just want to help you, Wanda.” I said honestly, my heart beating out of my chest.

“If you can’t help me find my boys, you’re no use to me.”

I watched as she sauntered around the temple, a very large, very evil looking book hovered in the air in front of her, the pages flipping on their own.

“I-I don’t know how.” I responded weakly, her black tipped fingers flicking the air, red wisps forming around her.

I began to panic, not knowing what she was doing. I shot my web at the book and pulled it toward me, holding it in my hands. Her eyes began to glow red with anger, the wisps heading straight towards me now.

“Oh, oh, oh,” I mumbled to myself, not knowing what to do. “Dammit.”

I ran, avoiding her magic the best I could. It was fast, instantaneous, but I was just a bit faster. I looked down at the book in my hands, and then back at Wanda, who was very, very angry.

“Just make more children!” I called out.

With a huff, she finally caught me, the wisps wrapping around my hands and feet, causing me to drop the book and to return to her.

“Make more children?” She asked, looking me over. What was she thinking?

I felt an odd sensation between my legs, like a stretching ache, and looked down to see the outline of a cock through my suit. My eyes widened and I looked back at Wanda, who was now eyeing me with a different kind of hunger.

“Wanda …” I said softly, wriggling slightly to try and release myself from her magic. “What have you done? What are you doing?”

“I’m taking your advice. We’re making more children.”

“W-we?”

She brought me closer to her, our faces almost touching as her dark fingers ran along my stomach, making the cock between my legs twitch ever so slightly.

“I know you like me, Y/N.” She whispered. “Help me get my children back.”

I swallowed roughly, my mind flooded with images of us, feelings of immense pleasure and I tried to shake it off. I did like Wanda, but I didn’t want it to be like this.

“I made you well endowed.” Her fingers trailed down and stroked the cock through my suit and I couldn’t hold back a moan.

“H-how?” I trembled under her touch, aroused and afraid.

She smiled, the wisps tightening around me as she began to take off her clothing.

“I’m much more powerful than I used to be.”

“Wanda,” I watched as her breasts bounced free from the outfit she was wearing. “You don’t wanna do this.”

I was losing my mind. This was the woman of all of my fantasies, of all my dreams, and she was now naked in front of me. I struggled against her magic, but she was right - she was much more powerful than I remembered.

“I know you want this as much as I do, Y/N. I can hear your thoughts about me - so loud, so desperate for me.”

I did my best to clear my mind, to calm down, but she was in front of me and she was the only one I ever wanted ever, and she knew that.

She grabbed the back of my mask and slipped it off my face, my flushed cheeks and hungry eyes finally coming into her view.

“See?” She ran her hands over my breasts, down to my hips. “I can tell you’re ready for me.”

I nodded, just wanting to please her now. Whatever she wanted me to do, I’d do it. She was inside of me; my mind and my senses. She fully consumed me and I would do anything for her.

“Let’s get this off.” She said, talking about my suit, and before I could even register her words, it was gone, leaving me bare before her.

I looked down between us, the girthy red cock sprung up from between my legs and I swallowed roughly. That was part of me.

She nodded and kissed me softly. She was reading my mind. I kissed her back, no longer upset that she was taking control of me. This was what I wanted.

“Now,” she said as she released me from her magical hold. “You have to fuck me good, pup. Don’t let a drop of cum go to waste.”

I nodded, grabbing her by the hips and pulling her against me, kissing her with a feverish heat. She smiled against me and laid us down on the ground, letting me settle between her legs. She spread them and I looked down in awe at her delicious wetness. The cock between my legs was beyond ready, as if it had a mind of its own, and I didn’t waste any time in grabbing it and bringing it to her entrance. How she had managed to make it a part of me that I could feel was beyond me, but it didn’t even matter anymore. What did matter was my intense desire to be inside of her. I slid myself into her heat, moaning lowly as I bottomed out inside of her.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” She said as she rolled her hips against my own, her breathing becoming heavy.

“Y-yes.” I practically whined as my hips rutted against her.

“Yes, what?” She taunted me and I looked into her deep, red eyes, feeling her inside of my mind.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Such a good pup,” she panted softly as I fucked her. “So obedient.”

My hands balled up into fists on either side of her head as I pounded into her, the feel of her addicting. She wrapped her legs around me and pulled me closer, trapping me against her.

“Wanda,” I moaned softly, looking into her eyes. “I c-can’t …”

“You can’t what, pet?” She asked, her pussy clenching around me as we practically melded into each other.

“I can’t hold it.” I was going to cum already. The new sensations were just too good.

“Don’t hold back.” She grabbed me by the ass and pulled me against her, making sure I couldn’t pull out.

I let out a whine and came, my cum spurting into her and coating her walls. She fucking milked me and wouldn’t let go, making sure every drop of cum made it inside her hungry cunt.

“Keep going.” She said, her eyes glowing red.

I could feel myself getting hard inside of her again and I realized that she was doing it with her magic. I could go on forever if she kept it up like this.

Red wisps wrapped around my neck and pulled me against her, our noses touching.

“Fuck me, pup. Don’t make me do all the work.”

“Y-yes, ma’am.” I choked out, my airway slightly restricted by her magic, which only turned me on further.

I pounded into her and I could feel her squeezing me, which just heightened my pleasure. I wanted to last more than a few minutes this time, but fuck, she felt so good. She was so wet, so tight, I could lose myself in her if I let myself.

“I’m gonna cum, pup.” She moaned and I realized I hadn’t even done anything for her pleasure, she was just going to cum from me fucking her - not touching her at all.

My hips jerked and my stomach clenched as she came, her pussy squeezing and milking me again. I couldn’t hold back any longer and I came inside of her, my hips bucking weakly.

“Keep it in there.” She said as I tried pulling away from her.

“Please,” I begged her. “I can’t.”

“You can.” She slapped my ass and I cried out. “And you will.”

“Wanda,” I moaned. “I can’t cum again.”

“You need a break, that’s okay.” She said with faux sympathy. “I think I’ll keep you for a while.”

I felt her magic wrapping itself around my body, holding me in place.

“Maybe I’ll hook you up to a milking machine and use you for breeding.”

“Wanda, please.” I begged and she smiled.

“I want a very big family, Y/N. I think I’ll be needing you for a long time.”

[wandamaximilf]

Make Me Feel Something

pairing: wanda maximoff + y/n ( mentions of vision )

warnings: 18+, overstimulation, teasing, spit, fingering, lesbian, clit play

summary: when you share disappointing news with wanda about catching vision acting out behind her back, her anger spirals and she takes it out on you, but she has no idea of the wormhole of feelings she's just opened up

3.6k words

“i didn’t need your help!”

wanda’s hand rockets towards you, jarring you square in the shoulder and nearly knocking you backwards. her other hand, dispelled in crimson swirls, sending the door behind herself slamming shut with such a force you swear the entire compound heard the commotion by now.

“-and what was i supposed to do,” you furrow your brows, perplexed, but with enough venom on your tongue to portray you have no intention of backing down, “not to tell you that i didn’t see your robotic boyfriend with some other woman?”

you stare back at wanda cross, but the bubbling hurt and anger only seems to swell behind green, flecks of red dancing like static in them momentarily.

“vision would never, he actually loves me unlike you spilling lies at me, you’re supposed to be my best friend! why would you make up something like this, out of jealousy?” she spits, seething at this point as she steps towards you in intimidation, though you know the reality of her nature is she would never actually lay a hand on you. 

“you’re not thinking clearly,” you shake your head, sympathy laced in your tone, “even if i am lying, why would i do that knowing it would hurt you? do you think that low of me, wanda?” you can tell your words ring logic through her, she knows you would never do something or say something to intentionally hurt her, but right now she is too jaded to even remotely put herself first over another she loves, nothing unusual for her character.

wanda seems to hesitate, as if her initial counter to your question was not a substantial enough response. she can’t fight logic, not right now. her mind

behind it all, you know she’s hurting, reeling behind a fairytale of whom she saw as a lifelong partner now having deceived her. 

yet, a part of you always saw this coming after all, he was just a construction of wires and vibranium. at some point his ‘brain’ would malfunction, and you didn’t merely assume that just based on your original disdain for him coming into wanda’s life.

“y/n, just go,” the words nearly sting, as selfish as that feels right now when really wanda is the only one with the right to feel anguish. 

unknown to her that for years you’d sat, watching and observing her, silently mesmerized and foolishly in love with the idea that maybe one day wanda would come to terms that the idea of being with you would’ve been a more viable option over vision to begin with. it was torture enough watching them oggle over one another around the compound. 

but now he’s the villain in the story, and it’s not exactly the prime moment to confess your feelings long hidden for her. no, it would be too selfish and look as if you were spinning her hurt into an opportunity. you know it would not be the ideal way to confess your deep desire you’ve held for her, imagining her like a high school crush and what it would be like to be loved in that way by her, instead of the friend pledged in loyalty to her.

“wands-“

“get the fuck out!” this time her words are the ones landing venomously, usually the innocence in the nickname grounds her, but not now. not today.

“i can’t just leave you-“

wanda lurches forward, reaching with brisk hostility to grab your upper arm in an attempt to drag you back to the door and out of her bedroom. but you’re quicker, your reflexes are more time–  thanks to romanoff’s training. your fingers spool around her wrist, stopping the motion and catching her off guard, enough to send her tripping over herself.

“fuck- you-“ this time wanda’s voice cracks, a pant between each for her loss of balance and catching herself before she falls against you. you can hear the innocence and muddled hurt even under the harsh words. any sparks of red had dissipated from the green in her eyes, now overtaken by the rising swell of tears giving them a glassy aura.

your eyes flick to her mouth as the slur falls from her lips, it even looked unnatural coming from them and you certainly couldn’t bear to watch those tears fall. you’d seen her say those words before, but this time it was different. it wasn’t in jest, yet it wasn’t necessarily in hatred or true anger. the only place it was coming from was agony and the incomprehension of her own emotions right now. 

she’d lost so much already, given so much of herself for those she cared about, it only made your heart wretch further. all you wanted to do was console her. 

wanda was so inexplicably close to you right now, enough to feel the heat of her breath on your face. it made the hair at the base of your neck stand up, her scent overwhelming you. your thoughts only whirled further, flashes of knowing how in pain she was.

a mix of impulsivity and selfishness to give in to temptation was overwhelming. all you wanted right now was to try and take her pain away in any way possible right now. a distraction. but also a longing release of your own feelings for her. your thoughts swirl a million miles a minute, briefly forgetting about the current situation you’re in.

before you can comprehend your own thoughts, deciding between right and wrong, the heat of wanda’s breath recedes, replaced with a harsh and violent pressure against your lips. it takes you a moment to understand the situation, wanda’s lips now pressed feverishly against yours. there’s a swelling taste of salt and copper washing through your mouth. a mix of her tears, and a stray drop of blood from the newly opened cut on your bottom lip, caused by the velocity of your lip caught between hers and your teeth. her hands had cupped your face at the initial contact, black nails pressing into the back of your jaw as if you might slip away. it stings at first, but you let it be.

you have to break it, this isn’t right, this is wrong. wrong on so many levels. wanda’s heart was broken right now, and this seemed disingenuous.

but you also can’t ignore the immediate warmth that travels through your abdomen, feeling it spin in guilt but also reprieve for finally feeling wanda’s lips against yours that doesn’t stem from a drunken dare.

still, your mind temporarily outweighs your heart and body, and you jerk back, “wanda.. i can’t, th-this isn’t right.” you fumble over the words, almost trying to explain yourself for an action that you didn’t even initiate. meanwhile, sliding your tongue along your bottom lip to quell the sting and erase any last evidence of blood on the small cut.

“you want to make me forget, you want to help, you want this. so just shut up, and make me feel something else- please.” her tone is desperate, pleading, but also firm on where she stands.

your mouth falls agape, wanting to rebuttal, argue this isn’t how you want it to go, that you actually do love her. but now’s not the time, you can connect the dots that she’d already gotten this idea because she’d picked through your thoughts in that moment of silence where she couldn’t find her own words.

now you only had one thing you could do to actually help her in this moment- make her feel something else. her words, right? she was giving you approval.

wanda seeks the opportunity again, impatient and just as harsh with need. aside from the swelling guilt, you can’t help but indulge simultaneously. you can still taste the reminisce of a stray tear or two, but it’s begun to fade. she’s already begun to lose herself in the moment, letting every other thought leave her mind as she sought safety and pleasure in the only person she had left that she truly cared for. 

you.

both of your feet are nearly tripping over the other, trying to walk backwards towards her bed as your hands finally give in, rising around the back of her neck. your fingers instantly tangle into locks of fiery orange, gripping just enough to encourage wanda to continue. and she does.

the room has already begun to envelope in a heavy heat, ragged and desperate breaths laced in a mix of emotions but ultimately indulged in the moment. the worry of guilt is still there, but now just a small pit in your stomach as her breathing hitches with each step and between barely audible moans.

wanda pressures you further until you’re both stood parallel to the bottom edge of the bed. you prepare for her to break the kiss when you feel her mouth fall slightly more agape. you want to ask her for reassurance, that this is okay.

before you can manage the words, wanda quickly presses her tongue between your parted lips, not hesitating to explore along your own, running hers along the roof of your mouth. you almost feel embarrassed at the amount of saliva welling up in your mouth and hers, but she only swallows it back hungrily. 

a twisting thought wonders if wanda had fantasized this in someway, especially by the speed of her actions, seeming to barely think twice. was there a part of her who had wanted this as well?

the guilt seems void right now, replaced by a thrumming heat gathering between your thighs. wanda seems entirely awash in lust, both your tongues taking turns exploring one another’s mouths.

this time you make your move before wanda can. your hands abandon her hair, quickly working off her jacket, allowing her to shrug it to the floor between kisses as you begin to pull at the bottom hem of her shirt. this time she’s pulls away, but only enough for you to allow space to pull her shirt up and over her head. at first, she doesn’t jump back into the kiss, allowing herself to catch her breath as her hands reach behind her back. it takes you only a second to comprehend.

you had tried not to stare, but as wanda reaches for the strap of her bra to unhook it, you take a second to take in the sight. her breasts perfectly fill the cups of the black bra. it’s simple, no lace or embroidery, just black silk cotton, and still she makes it look like an expensive garment.

in a heartbeat, everything in your face runs cold, as she slips her bra from her shoulders and lets it fall to the ground. you can’t help but indulge now. you’d inappropriately fantasized about wanda’s body before, especially her breasts when she wore that one corset, but having her exposed and vulnerable in front of you felt entirely on another plane of existence.  

her nipples are a perfect tone of rosey-pink, already perky and hardened from what you can only assume is arousal considering you were already both panting from the desperation in the previous kisses. 

you can’t stop yourself, you raise a hand, palm cupping the under of her breast and swiping a thumb over the hardened bud. when the action elicits a shy moan from wanda, it nearly makes you groan in approval as the heat between your legs surmounts with need. “wanda..”

“keep going- i promise, it’s okay, y/n-“ she manages as she seems to adjust herself so that her one breast is flush in your palm now, garnering another subtle moan from the sensitivity. 

you realize this moment is truly going to be all about wanda. not you, even despite the ache between your legs, but honestly, you wouldn’t have it any other way tonight. you had dreamt of wanda desiring you in this way and now she was explicitly asking you.

“i’ll take care of you,” you hold her eyes with yours as you gently readjust you both so that the back of her knees are against the bed, “just can i ask one thing from you?”

wanda wants to question you, you can tell by the faint look of confusion, but she only nods.

“stay standing until you can’t…” even in the dimming light of the room from the sun beginning to set, you swear you can see the faint flush of red in her cheeks as you slightly lower yourself just enough to get your mouth level with her breasts.

wanda gives you a single nod, her hips shifting leading you to assume she’s become as aroused as you are now. for a moment, as she’s looking down to you, you swear you saw the shadow of a nervous smile. you hold her gaze for a moment as you take one of her nipples into your mouth, using a hand to palm and massage the other abandoned breast. 

wanda nearly crumbles at just that, it’s been too long since she’s been touched like this, but she remains upright. 

her head lolls back, a strained “y/n..” falling from her lips in a sultry moan that only encourages you to continue.

you suck at her nipple, occasionally using your teeth to graze the sensitive tissue. your hand stays busy, switching between massaging her breast in your palm and using your thumb to tease the nipple. 

wanda is rather shy for the time being, you can tell she’s trying to hide any roll in her hips, desperate for friction where she needs it most. her moans are still barely audible, but they’re there as you make sure to alternate each breast fairly. 

your free hand massages up her thigh gingerly, following along her pelvis until you stop to work at the button and zipper of her jeans. you’ve been careful to take your time, but not enough to drive her mad just yet.

when you pull your mouth away from her breast along with the other hand, you could’ve sworn you heard the faintest whimper. it satisfies you for a moment knowing how indulged wanda is, and how tentative you’re being with her body.

“why…” wanda manages, but you don’t give her a response. instead, you fully lower yourself, the hand previously working at her jeans now slides the zipper down fully.

“oh…” she manages, chin dropping to watch you get on your knees as you begin to shimmy her jeans down, not hesitating to bring her panties down along with them.

the denim and a pair of black underwear, falls to a clump around her ankles, her legs breaking into an array of goosebumps at her now exposed lower body. as she begins to step out of the restrictive clothing at her feet, you take the opportunity to look at her face for one last vow of approval.

“yes…” wanda’s lips are barely parted, the cold on her mound making her ache even further, “please, y/n… i promise it’s okay.,” 

as if offering further permission, she carefully adjusts her legs enough to just leave ample room for you to glimpse her pussy. she’s still standing in place, knees against the bed just in case they give out as your attention finally shifts to where she needs you most.

you nearly feel the immediate gush between your thighs as you settle onto your knees, now seeing the true picture of desperation. 

wanda’s folds are quite swollen, the tip of her clit just barely peaking out between them, this time you can’t stifle the groan at the sight before you. her slick is painted perfectly along her slit, a bead of it daring to fall at the back of her pussy.

you hungrily lean in, want and temptation over powering anything else now as your body drives you. wanda attempts to brace herself, feeling the heat of your breath against her core as your tongue immediately darts out to lap up the string of slick at her entrance. you barely have a moment to adjust before she cries out from sudden sensitivity. it’s been quite some time for her since she’d been touched like this. vision had long seemed to distance himself, they’d barely shared any intimacy of the sort around the compound in a month or two.

wanda’s knees immediately buckle as her hips rocket forward involuntarily, painting your mouth with her slick as her clit ruts against your nose, “oh– fuck, y/n!”

hearing wanda cry out your name like that only spurs you on further. you’d anticipated teasing her, making her wait, but now it’s you who can’t after tasting her. 

both of your hands shoot up, fingers splaying against the crux of where her thighs meet her pelvis and thumbs delving between wet folds to fully expose her pussy. 

wanda can only react with a string of weak whines, a hand of hers shooting down and fisting into your hair to guide you to where she wants you most. you only oblige, spurred on by the visual of her swollen clit before it’s pressed flat to your tongue.

“fuck!” wanda rolls her hips, encouragingly as her shy moans turn into a slur of expletives and gasps as she rakes her clit over your tongue with each movement and tug of your hair.

her taste is overwhelming, already beginning to saturate your face as she fucks herself against it. you can’t help but moan into her, which sends vibrations along her slit that only makes her drag her entire length along your mouth now, “fuck, yes- you’re doing so good…” she swallows roughly as her head tips back, “make me feel only you, y/n.”

you’d fantasized this moment for a few years now, and the reality of now coming true has you in a chokehold. one of your hands abandons her thigh, eagerly using your ring and middle finger to press between her folds. within a second, her wetness coats your fingers, pressing them deeper until your just brushing against her entrance.

without warning you delve both fingers into her, and wanda immediately loses her balance. the one hand you have at her thigh catches her, allowing her to regain some composure as you withdraw your fingers, only to thrust back into the cling of her walls. 

wanda cries out, her head falling back feeling weightless in her stomach and knees. a good portion of her weight is seated in your palm, the only thing keeping her upright at this point. she’s tight around you as your curl your fingertips to touch at the soft spot that makes her stomach flutter. she can barely manage anything coherent between gasps and whining moans from the slight sting. 

you can already feel wanda chasing her climax. with each thrust of your fingers, her clit slams against the bottom of your palm. it sends her body in near convulsions as her legs tremble as she grows closer to release.

the sound of how wet she is sends you into a frenzy, your fingers diving deeper and more quickly into her pussy. the entirety of your palm has begun to become wet from her slick, beginning to lose friction of her clit as your fingers dare to slip out each time. 

“wanda– cum for me now,” you manage as you readjust your hand more upright, not hesitating as you lean in to drag your tongue across her swollen clit. the taste of her makes you feverish for more. it’s a perfect balance of her sweetness and slight salt. 

wanda immediately buckles, a slur of expletives as the heat in her stomach rises as your tongue continues to rake viciously against her clit, your fingers driving in and out of her. it takes only a few more seconds before she completely unravels. her walls snap tightly around your fingers as she falls to her knees, being unable to catch her in time, you only help her to the ground. 

her hands fall beside her, bracing on the floor as her hips just upwards and as her head falls backwards onto the edge of the bed. your fingers feel slightly sore from her tightness, her pussy fully exposed in front of you as her knees are spread as she sits in front of you. the carpet beneath her garners a small wet stain as she lets her release paint over your hand and down to the ground.

“y/n– that… i’m so sorry,” wanda pants out with remorse as her body settles, you withdraw your fingers quickly, not disingenuously, wiping them on your leg to be able to cup her face as she lowers her head back to look at you. there’s a bit of regret behind her eyes, and she notices the flash of worry, “no– no, you didn’t do anything. i just don’t want you to think i took advantage of you,” wanda’s body relaxes more, beads of sweat on her skin as she sits naked in front of you, apologizing for something that she has no need to. 

“wanda, you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do that with you,” you look at her sheepishly, and she somewhat offers a smile back to you.

“we’re not done then…” she manages, now looking at you reassuringly, “let me take care of you.”

you look at her, nearly stunned as her hands reach to pull you back into her. “wanda- what about vis-

“no, nothing about him right now, please,” she shifts, her face growing closer to yours, “let that be tomorrow’s problem. let me enjoy you and i tonight, we will worry about tomorrow when it comes.”

you hesitate, but only flash her a toothy smile out of helplessness. if this is what she wants, even after the exhausting outpour of emotions, it gives you the necessary reassurance that wanda wants you in some capacity as well.

so you let her.

[screaminglygay]

I get it now

pairing: wanda maximoff x reader

summary: wanda refuses to watch arcane - until she secretly does, and suddenly, she knows way too much

warnings: swear words, just some teasing!

word cout: 1.6k

an: hiii!! I’m back… kinda? Is anyone still here? Hehe. It’s my birthday today, so as a little gift, here’s a fun fic for you all! And yes, before you ask, I am still obsessed with Arcane, thank you very much. Enjoy! 💕

“Baby, I love you, but the game is horrible. I’m not gonna watch it.”

Wanda’s voice is soft but firm, the kind of tone that usually means she’s made up her mind. She’s curled up on the couch, her feet tucked beneath her, holding a cup of tea with both hands, since today is very cold day. Her eyes meet yours as you stand before her, hands mid-motion from your very animated explanation.

You freeze. “Okay- no, I mean, yeah. You’re right. The game is… questionable at best, but that’s not the point! The show, Wanda, the show is amazing.”

Wanda exhales a small laugh, shaking her head. “You say that about a lot of shows.”

“Because I have great taste,” you counter immediately, climbing onto the couch beside her. “But this one is different. It’s... it’s like a painting came to life, but with an incredible story, deep characters, and emotional damage.” You start to move your hands around once again.

Wanda quirks an eyebrow, “emotional damage?”

“Yes.” You nod. “The best kind... not the best kind the worst kind actually, but you get me."

She takes a slow sip of her tea, eyes still locked on yours. “Mhm.”

“You’re not convinced.”

“Not even a little.”

You groan, dropping your head onto her shoulder. “Wanda, please. I just want to share this with you. You don’t even have to like it! I just- I want to hear your thoughts. I want to see you react.”

She hums thoughtfully, setting her mug down. “Let me guess. You won’t spoil anything for me, but you will keep talking about it whether I watch it or not?”

“…Yes.”

Wanda chuckles, tilting her head against yours. “Then I guess I’m in for a lot of Arcane talk, huh?”

You lift your head, grinning. “So much. An ungodly amount.”

She sighs, but there’s no real negativity behind it. Just fondness. “I suppose I can live with that.”

You beam at her, leaning in to press a quick, enthusiastic kiss to her cheek. “You’re the best.”

“And yet, still not watching it.”

You huff, flopping dramatically against her. “For now.”

...

And you were right. After listening to you ramble about Arcane night after night, Wanda finally gave in. She told herself it was just curiosity, just a way to see what had you so captivated. It wasn’t good, no, definitely not. But it was interesting. And, let’s be honest, for you? Wanda would burn the whole world down. So watching a show? That was nothing.

Wanda sat on the couch, remote in hand, staring at the Arcane title screen like it had personally offended her.

“God, I better not regret this,” she muttered to herself before pressing play.

At first, she was skeptical. The animation was… different. Not what she expecteed. Yet within minutes, she found herself absorbed. Powder and Vi were adorable, their sisterly bond tugging at something deep in her chest.

“Oh no,” she mumbled when things started going south. “This isn’t gonna end well, is it?”

Then came Vi. Grown-up, all muscle, all attitude. And Caitlyn. When Vi pinned Caitlyn down with that stupidly confident smirk and purred, "You're hot, Cupcake," Wanda’s mouth actually dropped open.

She blinked. Rewound. Watched it again.

“No wonder why (Y/N) likes this show,” she muttered, shaking her head but unable to stop herself from grinning.

And then she kept watching. And watching.

The fights? Incredible. Ekko’s moment with the stopwatch? Breathtaking. Jinx? Oh. Oh. Wanda had to pause for a second, just to take in how heartbreakingly messy and brilliant she was.

Days passed, and she kept sneaking in episodes whenever she could, inching her way through the series. Every time you brought up Arcane, she played it cool, just nodding along, letting you ramble, acting as if she was still clueless.

But inside? Inside, she was counting down the moments until she finished it. Until she could finally drop the act.

And then, one evening, after the final episode rolled credits, she sat back with a satisfied sigh. That’s when she heard the front door open.

She didn’t even realize she was smiling until you walked in, took one look at her, and narrowed their eyes. “What’s going on?”

Wanda quickly wiped the grin off her face. “What do you mean?”

You squinted, stepping closer. “You’re smiling.”

“I just made dinner for my love,” she says casually, gesturing to the kitchen as she stands up, walking there.

You eye her as you set your things down. “Okay… but what´s the reason?”

Wanda just smiles, pulling out your chair for you. “I just missed you very much.”

You narrow your eyes, still not entirely convinced, but your heart flutters at the softness in her voice. "Alright, charmer," you mumble, sitting down.

Dinner is warm, cozy, Wanda asks about your day, listens intently, and there’s something about the way she looks at you tonight that makes you feel like the most important person in the world.

When the plates are empty, you stretch with a satisfied sigh. “You cooked, I’ll clean up.”

Wanda doesn’t argue. Instead, as you start washing the dishes, she drifts toward you, leaning herself against the counter beside you. Close enough that you feel her warmth. Close enough that your brain starts short circuiting just from her presence.

You try to focus on the dishes, but her eyes are on you, her smile teasing.

You swallow. “Alright, seriously. What’s going on?”

And that’s when she leans in, just enough for her voice to drop a little lower, enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“You really think I needed all the guards at the Hexgates?”

Your hands freeze in the soapy water. Your breath catches. Your brain? Completely malfunctions.

Slowly, you turn to her, eyes wide as if she just dropped the biggest plot twist in history.

“Oh my god.”

Wanda just smirks.

“Oh my god.” You grip the edge of the sink, staring at her in shock. “You’ve seen it.”

Wanda laughs softly, and that’s when it fully hits you.

She’s seen it. She’s seen Arcane.

And you? You’re about to lose your damn mind.

Your hands are still frozen in the soapy water, your brain struggling to catch up. “You actually watched it?”

Wanda hums, tilting her head, turning the water off. “Mhm.”

“For real? Like... the whole thing?”

“All of it.”

You gasp dramatically, turning fully to her now, water dripping from your hands. “Okay, okay, thoughts! What did you think? Did you like the animation? What about the fight scenes? And the music?! oh my god, the music- wait, who’s your favorite character? Oh! And what about-”

Wanda places a hand on your arm, squeezing gently. “Slow down, baby.”

You blink up at her, but you’re practically vibrating with excitement. “You do like it, don’t you?!”

Wanda’s lips curl into a smile. “It was good. Really good.”

You let out a tiny, victorious squeak, bouncing on your toes. “I told you! I told you it was amazing!”

Wanda chuckles, crossing her arms as she leans back against the counter. “Mmm. I should’ve known, considering how obsessed you are.” She gives you a look then, one that instantly makes your stomach flip. “Though, I gotta say… After seeing Vi, Caitlyn, Sevika, Lest, Mel…” she clicks her tongue. “I’m really not surprised you like it so much.”

Your face burns. “Wanda- ”

“I mean, Vi pinning Caitlyn down? Sevika with her whole arm thing? Mel just existing? Interesting taste you have, sweetheart.”

You cover your face with your hands. “I hate you.”

Wanda laughs, all smug and amused, before gently tugging your hands down so she can see your flustered face. “No, you don’t.”

You huff. “Okay, but who’s your favorite?”

She pretends to think, tapping her chin. “I liked Ekko a lot. But…” She glances at you with a knowing smirk. “Vi was fun to watch.”

You groan. “I knew it.”

Wanda laughs again, leaning in just enough that her lips brush your cheek. “Relax, you’re still my favorite.”

Your face somehow gets even hotter. “Oh my god, stop.”

“Make me,” she teases, grinning as she presses a kiss to your temple.

You swear your brain completely short circuits, and all you can do is melt into her touch, heart full, stomach fluttering, and utterly, utterly in love. Just when you think you’ve recovered from Wanda’s relentless teasing, she tilts her head, pretending to think. “You know… maybe we should also get the hexstrap, no?”

Your entire body locks up.

Your head snaps toward her so fast you’re surprised you don’t get whiplash. “WANDA.”

She just shrugs, all casual, like she didn’t just say that. “What?”

“How do you- how do you even know about that?!” Your voice cracks in the middle, and you feel the heat rush straight back to your face.

Wanda grins, leaning in slightly. “My sweet sweet thing,” she says, voice smooth, “I am on social media.”

You let out the most indignant noise, covering your face again. “I hate it here.”

Wanda’s laughter is absolutely wicked. “I mean, it is a very interesting concept…”

“DO NOT FINISH THAT SENTENCE!”

She just smirks, resting her chin on her hand as she watches you suffer. “What? You don’t want to be my Cupcake?”

You dramatically exhale, “I cannot believe you.”

“Oh, come on,” she purrs, stepping closer, her fingers grazing your arm, “you love that I watched it.”

You let out a high pitched, flustered sound that is absolutely not a whimper. “That is not the point!”

Wanda just leans in even closer, voice dropping to a whisper. “But you do want to get the hexstrap, don’t you?”

You roll your eyes, shoving her playfully. “I am not having this conversation with you!”

Wanda laughs, catching your wrist before you can escape. “Mmm, fine,” pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “For now.”

You groan, head dropping back. “I hate you so much.”

Her lips curl into a smirk. “No, you don’t.”

And unfortunately… she’s absolutely right. You love her. So much.

Spoiler alert: you did received the hextrap later and you loved it.

This was so fun to writ:P thank you for reading!!

[charlotte1253]

Dating Wanda Maximoff Is like.

Wanda X Reader

MasterList

• You and Wanda would first meet after she joined the avengers, you two would bound over sharing your past and dreaming about the future.

•Wanda would be super careful with her power’s around you because she is scared of hurting you. If you have similar powers, she will train them with you.

•if you don’t have any powers, she will be protective of you.

• As soon as Wanda meets you she starts calling you nicknames in Sokovian, because she knows you don’t understand her and if you do, she likes your reaction.

•she would try and teach you Sokovian but if it doesn’t go well, she’d call you the pet names.



•Wanda loves cooking with you and loves teaching you new traditions meals. But if you can’t cook that well, she would love to cook for you.

•She is secretly very clingy and is scared you will leave her. She sometimes falls asleep on your chest.

•After her brother died, she sometimes gets quite and avoids everyone but you.

•She loves reading your mind when she catches you staring at her and loves teasing you.

• Wanda loves to sing but is shy about it.

•She loves having movie nights with you. Cuddling all night and wanting lots of movies.

•She loves hugs.

•she always kisses your forehead whenever she can.

•she would do literally anything for you.

• Strangers to friends to lovers

•she would admit her feelings first.

[inkblot-inc]

DEATH ROLL

Summary: When you're at the end of the rope and you're given one last chance, what lengths are you willing to go to climb your way out?

Pairing: Crocodile!Hybrid!Reader x Snake!Hybrid!Wanda Maximoff

Warning(s): Dark Themes; Depictions of violence, a general warning for racketeering and all that that entails my guy, strong language… extensive Identity Theft I guess?

Note(s): It’s a brand spankin’ new AU bud! Hell, I've seen the movie Bobby Z about a billion times since I was… probably too young to understand what I was watching, but rewatching it as an adult led me inevitably down this particular rabbit hole, of course with my own changes and shenanigans and all that good stuff. Reader written as a butch lesbian that uses he/him pronouns for clarification. All of that being said, I hope you enjoy :3

Word Count: basically 2.5k

ALSO: *squints* I give NO ONE permission to repost or translate my work. Make your own shit

Louisiana State Penitentiary (Angola, Louisiana)

It’s not like you were ever  meant for greatness. Born to a croc hybrid mother who could never hold onto a man, raised in a city where even the rain felt sticky and oppressive most days. You were  a burnt end, a measly little asterisk in a world that couldn’t pretend to care long enough to reference properly. You grew up on the streets of New Orleans, moving from foster home to foster home until the system gave up on you entirely. By the time you were eighteen, you may have been a two-bit thug, but you’d already accumulated a rap sheet longer than most politicians' promises.

But if there was one thing you weren’t gonna do, it was give a damn. About anything. Especially the people who told you what to do. And by the time you were closing out your twenties, you were locked up on death row for a slew of robberies, assaults, and eventually manslaughter. It sounded about right, you going out this way; a selfish coward that came into the world with a crack and a whimper about to fizzle out with no impression to leave behind.

But then, on one particularly hot night in a cell that felt more like a coffin, you’d gotten an offer.

Inside a dimly lit prison cell, You sat with your back pressed against the cold cement wall, staring at the flickering bulb highlighting the peeling white paint above you. It’s all you really could do in the  cramped space, the scutes along your tail scraping against the concrete floor as it lashed idly back and forth. The rhythmic tick of a clock echoed through the room, its sound blending with the distant hum of the crickets outside. It was a lonely, suffocating place — but at least it was a familiar place after all this time.

The unlocking of your cell door broke you out of your thoughts.

The warden entered, his face expressionless as always, but there was something different about him tonight. He sighed before he spoke. “Y/Ln. You have a guest… With  a proposition for you,” the warden said, moving aside to make room for a man behind him. This “guest” wore a pressed suit and his eyes hid behind sunglasses propped up on his face like the poster boy for some secret agency. The man held a file with him that he  dropped onto the small table in front of you.

You didn’t answer immediately. You’d heard enough rumors around the penitentiary. Deals made in the shadows, trades that only the desperate and the damned would consider.

“You’ve been selected for a special mission,” the guard continued. “A chance to get out of here alive.”

Despite everything, your brow raised in intrigue. “Get out alive?”

“That’s right,” the guard replied, pushing the file closer. “We need you to become someone else,” the agent continued, his tone casual, as if talking about a simple job. “More specifically, we need you to impersonate Boon Ballou.”

You stopped fiddling with the corner of the manila folder. “Boon Ballou?” You had heard the name. Everyone had, human and hybrid alike. The infamous drug and arms dealer with charisma that could charm a snake and a temper that could end a life. The kind of person who operated in the shadows of the world, pulling strings and ruining lives. “I’m sure he’s probably off in the Bahamas doing fuck all, ain’t he? Why don’t you just go and hunt the real thing down and leave me out of it?”

The agent's words were blunt and left no room for debate. “Because Boon Ballou is dead. He was killed a year ago during a botched escape attempt from a Colombian prison.”

Well that was definitely a reason…

“No one other than the authorities knows this information. So that’s why you’re gonna slip right in to assume Boon’s identity, Y/n”

They sure sounded like they had this all figured out for you. It didn’t even sound like you had a choice. “I don’t even look like him,” You eventually spoke up, your voice laced with wariness and a bit of disbelief.

The agent smiled, a cold, calculating expression. “I’d beg to differ. Aside from you both bein’ crooked crocs, you got the same general build and the same scales. You two even have the same damn face, Y/Ln. You could walk right into his operation, and no one would know the difference.”

“I’m sorry, can we double back to the part where you want me to play a dead guy?” You leaned forward, your voice laced with incredulity. “Why do you even want me? Is it slim pickins out there in Quantico or wherever the hell you’re from?”

The warden smacked you upside the head as the agent ignored your jab and opened the folder after he flipped it around.

You stared at the folder, reaching your cuffed hands forward to leaf through its contents. Photos of Boon, the swagger in his walk that translated even through static photographs. The designer suits and gold chains he wore glinted in the light of the pictures taken in the daytime. The file also had pictures of Ballou’s associates, with detailed entries on Boon Ballou’s exploits, his connections, and his patterns of behavior. There was even a small baggy that held the gold custom-made piercings he’d had in his face. Hell, it was as if his entire existence had been reduced to these documents.

There was one photo that caught your eye: a woman, stunning, with dark brown hair and the telltale piercing eyes and scaly accents of a snake hybrid. Wanda Maximoff. She was listed as one of Ballou’s last known lovers, someone he’d had a deep connection with before his rather lackluster death.

“What do I get outta this?” You quipped, your voice sharp.

“The deal’s simple. We get you in with Boon’s crew, and get you close to his operations. You help us take down Ballou’s empire, take down the members of his circle who’ve also been slipping under our radar for years, and put this shit to bed dead in the dirt. They have one of our operatives captive as we speak, and your final test will be the trade off to get our guy back in exchange for you. All of Boon’s biggest players should be there, so this is a one and done deal. You play this right, you walk free. No more death row. No more prison. You’ll be free to go with a clean slate.”

Your eyes narrowed. “And if I fail?”

“You won’t,” the guard said, his voice suddenly cold. “You’ll be dead before you realize you made a mistake.”

----------

Eight months later

It wasn’t as easy as it sounded… And it didn’t even sound easy in the first place-

You had to change everything — your voice, your mannerisms, the way you carried yourself. You’d spent the last few months in seclusion, with a team of experts helping you get the look just right. Every detail was crucial.

You idly fiddled with the two new golden snake bite piercings while biting the inside of your lip. They were the first thing you were made acquainted with during your damn near right after your agreement left your mouth. You got new ink moths ago too, all pieces the OG Boon had, but they weren’t nearly as much of an adjustment as the fucking metal in your mouth.

The cosplay aside, Boon Ballou wasn’t just a name; he was an institution. Every piece of the kingpin’s past had to be learned and studied, every habit adopted. It was like walking around with your gut sucked in until you forget you were doing it at all.

Nobody even called you Y/n anymore.

You’d spent hours in front of a mirror, practicing Boon’s sneer, the tilt of his head, the slow drag of a cigar between his fingers. Your diet had shifted to match Ballou’s preferences — whiskey instead of beer, crawfish instead of steak.

You were fed stories of Ballou’s notorious escapades, his love life, and, most importantly, his final days — how he’d disappeared from public view for more than two years now, last heard going off to The Philippines for business before his body turned up in Colombia where he’d very quietly died. Fortunately or unfortunately (depending on who you ask), the underworld kingpin of the Hollywood South had an operation that practically ran itself while he was gone.

And now Boon Ballou was coming back.

-----

Then came the night of the deal.

The night was humid, the sky hanging heavy with the promise of rain. Adrenaline coursing through your veins, you could hear your heart pumping in your ears.

The deal was supposed to go smoothly. Now dressed in Boon Ballou's signature black leather waistcoat over a suit, you stood surrounded by armed agents, the tension crackling in the air. You were about to be handed over to the waiting criminals, Boon Ballou’s people, in exchange for a government agent who looked like he’d seen better days. You didn’t know how long he’d been over there or what he’d seen, but it was painted thick on his face. The melodramatics aside, it was supposed to be a simple handoff.

But most things start off simple until they’re not.

You had been betrayed. You inevitably outlived your usefulness to the government agents escorting you across the territory line. They’d planned to shoot you while you walked across the invisible line, gun you down, and leave your body behind as evidence that the criminal empire was dismantling itself.

“Boon Ballou” was meant to die here and tonight.

The first shot came from behind you. For the first time in your life, you felt a real rush of fear. But you had a way of surviving. You didn’t think—you just acted, charging through the chaos and breaking free. You spun, using your tail to knock an agent off their feet and then tore through the surrounding chaos, all teeth and claws. Gunfire erupted around you, but your strength and speed had always been your advantage. You were a croc, after all—built for survival.

You dashed into the thick shadows of the bayou, moving through the dense foliage, but no matter how fast you ran, the shots never stopped. In the distance, you could hear the shouts of your would-be killers as your massive tail sliced through the muck and submerged beneath the murky waters.

For a long while, you just swam through the bayou, the only sound being your own breath and the gentle lapping of the water against the shore. Eventually, when you surfaced against the endiscript bank, you caught sight of a blacked out SUV. You weren’t sure if it’d always been there, but an owl hybrid, grizzled and rough-looking, stepped from the cover of the nearby truck. His eyes locked onto you, recognition sparking.

“Boon?” the man asked, his voice low but urgent. “That you?”

You didn’t respond verbally at first, still catching your breath. Nobody called you by your name anymore, but it startled you how quick you responded to being referred to as Boon Ballou.

“Get in, man. ’Less you tryna get shot out here. You straight?” The barred owl grabbed you by the arm, still soaked, and pulled you toward the SUV. 

That seemed to pull You out of your stupor. “I’m fine,” You grunted, your voice rough, trying to mimic the deeper tones of Boon’s Southern drawl. “Just get me outta here.”

 "Two years talkin’ to nobody an’ ya still act like youse untouchable." the older man grumbled as he opened the back door to the SUV and ushered you inside. As you sat in the back of the vehicle in wet clothes and squelching boots, you watched the glimmering lights coming from the edge of the French Quarter. This city was now both your prison and your possible salvation.

As the car screeched to a halt outside a lavish estate, Your mind was spinning. The game had just changed. The owl hybrid that drove you here got out of the van and opened the car door for you to get out, both of you walking up the steps leading up to the front door.

Inside the house, amidst the luxury and wealth that seemed so far removed from the prison cell you’d left behind, you found yourself face-to-face with her. Wanda Maximoff.

Her eyes locked with yours, and for a moment, you saw something in them — something that made your breath catch. The woman who had once been Boon’s lover, the woman who had been a part of Ballou’s past.

But now, she was standing in front of you, looking at you with the same intensity.

This is the woman that Boon Ballou left behind.

And in that moment, you realized something: You weren’t just impersonating the deceased croc. You were responsible for breathing new life into his name.

You were Boon Ballou now. And in this world, that might just be the most damning thing of all.

“You’re back,” she said softly, her brows furrowed in disbelief and voice trembling slightly.

You swallowed hard, your heart heavy. You were way beyond your depth. You don’t know how to run a fucking drug ring. Sure you studied for the test, but you didn’t know a damn thing when standing in front of people with no choice to interact. You couldn’t go back out. There were no takesies backsies. Not if you wanted to live. And when everything you’d worked for for over half a year, when your freedom depended on her and all the people around her believing that you were Boon Ballou? You have no choice but to step up to the plate.

So, you lied. You embraced her.

“Wanda,” your voice was rough with just a hint of unspoken guilt as your fingers brushed the deep red scales that fanned across the outside of her neck and her cheekbones as they gleamed even in the warm, dim light. You didn’t have to pretend to admire her. You’d run into a lot of snake hybrids in your own time, but you hadn’t met one that had so quickly held your attention like she did. That tempted you toward her gravity like she did.

“I’m back.”

No one knew Y/n, the orphan slated for lethal injection. They only knew the man that was their lover, their boss, their friend, and even their rival. Could you really fill those shoes when your foot was essentially forced into them? And more importantly—could you survive long enough to figure out your next move, or would the past of a dead man, and the lies that came with it, consume you until there was nothing left of you?

You were playing a game with stakes that were beyond deadly– and if Boon Ballou proved anything, he proved that no one gets to play forever.

[moonlightbae7775]

Yn:hey i just noticed your first name is my middle name

(Natasha gives Yn a tight lipped smile)

Yn:there’s a high possibility if I don’t see my girlfriend in the next twenty four hours I’m burn down this tower with everyone in it.

Bonus

(Natasha watching the tower burn down and yn being detained)

[annasfantasies]

Mischief’s girl

/Loki x fem!Stark!reader

masterlist

ENGLISH ISN’T MY FIRST LANGUAGE

。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.

yourusername_private

Liked by tonystark and more

yourusername_private date nights with my bitch🥰

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。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.

yourusername_private

Liked by lokilaufeyson and more

yourusername_private July dump🎞️

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lokilaufeyson didn’t have to expose me like this

yourusername_private @/lokilaufeyson I have no idea what you’re talking about🥰

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pepper.potts @/tonystark your wife🥰

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。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.

yourusername_private

Liked by lokilaufeyson and more

yourusername_private family🫂

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pepper.potts why is he everywhere

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natasharomanoff why is he standing on a counter?

yourusername_private @/natasharomanoff you don’t wanna know

。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.

yourusername_private

Liked by lokilaufeyson and more

yourusername_private life lately👯‍♀️

View all comments

wandamaximoff I’m your biggest fan

yourusername_private @/wandamaximoff and I’m yours babe

tonystark I did not need to know that

yourusername_private @/tonystark I have no idea what you’re talking about

lokilaufeyson your father already hates me and you post our messages?

yourusername_private @/lokilaufeyson he doesn’t hates youuu

tonystark @/yourusername_private I do

natasharomanoff what a cutie on slide 4

yourusername_private @/natasharomanoff my gf💋

thor I got bigger one

lokilaufeyson @/thor nobody asked

yourusername_private @/lokilaufeyson you’re just jealous Lo

。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.

ALL CREDITS GO TO THE AUTHORS OF THE PICTURES

A/N: hiii guyss! I hope you liked this❤️

Don’t forget to reblog, follow and leave a comment🫶

[maximoffsgirl]

Wanda Maximoff X Reader

☆ bad idea, right?

I) Peace In Chaos II) Airplane Mode ✈︎

☆ Baby It's Cold Outside

☆ Felis

[imtryingbuck]

Theses are the fics I’ve read each month and would highly recommend you reading. Please go and show some love to these amazing creators!

Please read the warnings to each fic🤍

Divider by @saradika

November 2023 / December 2023

January 2024 / February 2024 / March 2024 / April 2024 /

[local-crying-boy]

you should write something where pietro is a vampire since it’s almost halloween!

🄿🄸🄴🅃🅁🄾 🄼🄰🅇🄸🄼🄾🄵🄵

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𝕄𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕒 𝕊𝕡𝕖𝕖𝕕𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙿𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚘 𝙼𝚊𝚡𝚒𝚖𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚇 𝙵𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙾𝚗𝚎-𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝, 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚟𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎!𝙿𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚘, 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚒𝚌

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 '𝚅𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜' 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 '𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗' 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝𝚢 (?), 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚈/𝚗, 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚔, 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 (𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚏𝚕𝚢) 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊𝚋𝚛𝚞𝚙𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚍

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙿𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚘 𝙼𝚊𝚡𝚒𝚖𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎’𝚜 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗, 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊’𝚜, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙿𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚘’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚛. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜, 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚠𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚜

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 2k

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pietro Maximoff was an odd fellow sometimes, especially after a certain mission that he and Wanda refused to talk about when they got bad.

Wanda seemed different, like she had seen something that she would never be able to forget, never be able to escape. While Pietro grew more distant to the team, he seemed paler, he never came out during the day because he'd spend it all sleeping.

The team respected the fact that neither of the twins wanted to talk about what happened on that mission, that they didn't even acknowledge that it even occurred. The whole team didn't.

Apart from you.

How could you forget it?

You were the only one awake that night. You couldn't sleep, once again, and was in the Compound's kitchen, drinking a cup of tea.

It was a peaceful night, silent, unlike how it would usually be during the day. There were no squabbles between team members and no overbearing presence of a certain egotistical billionaire, it was nice to be on your own for a bit.

However, all that seemed to crash down immediately as Wanda and Pietro rushed into the room.

Neither had noticed you for the entire ten minutes they were rushing about. You didn't move, you felt like you couldn't. You were sure you were holding your breath the whole time they were in there.

Pietro was covered in blood, the sickening crimson dripping from his wrist onto a puddle on the ground, a bloodied nose and mouth. Wanda was covered in his blood, too, though she seemed so much more panicked and than Pietro had.

At one point, Pietro was leaning against the wall, panting heavily as he groaned out in agony. As soon as Wanda reached out to help, he shouted, pushing her away. You had no idea what he said, but he was cursing in Sokovian, leaving you to wonder what happened that was so bad that would cause Pietro to lash out at his own sister.

After that horrifying scene, you had the image of Pietro and Wanda bloodied stuck in your head, it coming to light every time you had seen Wanda.

How had they not noticed you? Were they too focused at whatever had happened? If they were so bothered by it, why didn't they call for help? Pietro obviously needed it.

You wanted to approach Wanda about every single day, demand to know what happened that night, hell, even on that damned mission. But the rest of the Avengers had caught onto your burning desire to know what happened and always was able to move the topic along before you even got the chance to bring it up.

Then there was the choice of asking Pietro, a fete that seemed impossible to do now that he was sleeping all day and out all night. No one even knew where he went in those late hours, but F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s CCTV always caught him leaving and coming back as soon as the sun went down and just before it came up. By the time everyone woke up, he was tucked comfortably in bed, without a single inch on sunlight coming into his room.

You could not explain how back you were itching to find out about what happened. It was not out of pure curiosity, you were terrified that night, each night you would pull out different scenarios about what might have happened on that mission and each night you scared yourself even more.

But enough was enough.

One day, rather early in the morning, you had stayed downstairs in the kitchen, waiting for Wanda to come down. You mostly figured out everyone’s routine, mostly because they were starting to all get similar.

You were sipping on your drink, fingers tapping against the glass, a hand holding up your chin. Steve and Wilson already went out for a run and wouldn’t be back for a while, Natasha and Barton ate breakfast together and started their stretches for the day’s training. Now all you had to do was wait for Wanda.

You heard her footsteps start to get closer and you perked up in your seat, back straightening for a moment as you kept your eye out for her. When she emerged, wiping away sleep from her eyes, walking over to the counter to start making herself a cup of tea.

After a few moments you spoke up. “Wanda.”

Her head turned over her shoulder for a moment as she stirred her drink, before looking back over to it. “Yes?”

“What happened that day?” You asked bluntly, no point beating around the bush.

She paused, her spoon hitting the side of her mug rather suddenly. Despite not looking at her face, you could tell that she had that same scared look on her face that she had when you saw her that late night.

“Nothing happe-” she tried to say, but you had quickly cut her off.

“Don’t give me that bullshit.” You scoffed, shaking your head. “What the hell is wrong with Pietro? What's wrong with you?”

Wanda was silent. she seemed like she wasn't going to talk. Her eyes were fixated on yours, however, like it was a wordless demand to stay quiet, to no longer question her.

It was, easily, a demand you weren't going to listen to.

"I saw you two that night." You stated bluntly, your tone sharp and harsh. You could have sworn you saw her subtly flinch at the statement.

Her eyes were wide with shock, you saw her bottom lip quiver with fear when all she could hear was the words repeated in her mind. “What do yo-”

“I saw you two,” You repeated, arms resting on the table, Wanda could feel as your eyes burned into her gaze too, “And Pietro covered in fucking blood.”

She remained silent, her eyes tearful with, what you could assume, fear and despair. She shook her head slowly, her gaze falling to the ground.

“Wanda.” You called, your voice harsh still, your patience was gone. It had been gone for a while now, all you wanted was the truth, the proper truth. “Please.”

“I can’t tell you.” She muttered quietly, but she moved over to where you were sitting. “I can’t tell you.”

It was your turn to be silent this time, you pulled out your phone and checked the time, before shoving it back into your pocket. You didn’t even say goodbye to Wanda, you just stood up abruptly and made a beeline for Pietro’s room.

It was the time of day where an odd few of the others who permanently lived in the compound were starting to get up, they had shot you several various looks, some calling out to ask where you were going with such a determined presence.

You paid no attention to them, you were more so focused on the limited amount of time you had to talk to a certain (recently) nocturnal speedster.

You wondered if it was too late, early for you but late for him, and that his door would be locked and he wouldn’t reply to your calls. Though, you quickly discarded the thought and decided that you would simply nag him until he actually opened the damn door.

Your fist pounded against the locked door, brutally and loud enough for the whole building to hear. However, who could blame you? Secrets were being hidden and everyone who moved on acted as if you were mad for, well, going mad over different reasons as to why Pietro and Wanda's behaviours both changed.

"Pietro Maximoff!" You called from the hall, knowing damn well that that boy could hear you, and may have even woken up finally. "Open this damn door, or I swear to anything Holy that I will break it open!"

Realistically, you wouldn't actually do that. You weren't the brute strength of the team, Bucky and Rogers were, and you, also, knew that you wouldn't want to face the confrontation from both Pietro and the team if you did carry out your threat.

"Go away!" He called out hoarsely from the other side.

Finally. It had been a damn long while since you heard that stupid voice. Granted, it sounded different, more hoarse, broken. Defeated.

You groaned in frustration, banging again on the door. "Open the door!"

"No!" He swiftly shouted back at you.

'Dear Mother of-' You muttered under your breath, you weren't in the mood to go back and forth with the stubborn speedster, not today, not for the weeks that had gone by since that mission.

Your hand tried it's luck and forcefully shot downwards and clamped around the doorhandle, you had expected it to be locked, like it had been for weeks. Although, to your surprise, the door opened.

You weren't about to lose this opportunity, so you forced your way into the room before he could push you out. You were, honestly, astonished that you were able to do so, there were so many times where Pietro had beaten the team due to his speed.

You slammed the door behind you, your back to Pietro, but only for a mere moment.

When you spun around, the sight in front of you was nothing like you'd ever seen.

Sickening. That was the first thought that popped into your mind, your eyes widened in pure shock, you could feel the bile pile in the bottom of your throat. Swallowing, you took a step back, then you felt your back hit the door you had just, foolishly, closed.

"What the fuck..." You breathed out.

There was a dead rat in Pietro's hands, it blood covering his hands and dripping onto the carpet, no doubt staining it. Your eyes darted up to his face, the crimson red smudged around his mouth. Though, you couldn't help but look around the room, the curtains were ductaped closed, there were plastic bottles filled up with some red liquid and the smell, God, the smell.

You didn't know how you didn't notice it outside, but you could smell the rotting scent of the rat he was cradling in his hands. However, you were quick to realise that the rat he was holding wasn't the only source of the repulsive aroma, it couldn't be.

"Y/n." The sound of Pietro's voice hit your ears and caused your gaze to snap back onto his, but by then you were convinced you were going to throw up in front of him.

You shook your head, your hand blindly trying to find the door handle so that you could run out. Your voice came out faint, shakily. "No, no, no."

Just as your fingers found themselves clasp onto the door handle, Pietro was in front of you within a split second. You flinched your head away when he got close, breathing heavily as your heart raced out of your chest.

His hands grasped onto yours, though, it was not a tight nor harsh hold, not like how you were certain it was going to be. He moved your hands in front of him, your arms were outstretched, head turned away in disgust and fear, but he simply held your quivering hands to his chest.

"I can explain, I can explain." He quickly spoke, his voice was heavy with fear, trembling much like your own anxiety-laced breathing. But why? He was the monster who snared his teeth into the tiny, harmless beast. He was the one covered in blood.

"Let go of me!" You quickly hissed out, trying to pull your hands out of his hold, but failing to do so. Even if his fingers that were fastened around your wrists were a gentle feel, they were still able to keep your wrists bound.

"Let me explain!" He swiftly responded, pulling your arms towards him again, but only causing your whole body to move in the process.

That, there, was when you felt his strength.

You knew that Pietro was a strong man, you had sparred against him countless times ever since he joined the Avengers. However, this? This was something else.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" You cried out, snapping your head, finally being able to meet his. You couldn't, although, deny the way that you felt the nausea build again when you saw the blood on his lips, hell, even on his teeth.

"Something... Something happened." He said with a stuttering voice, his eyes so full of agony and suffering you almost felt bad for him. "I...I have no idea how to explain it, but..."

"But, what?" You asked, but did you really want to know the answer?

"I... I think I'm a vampire..." He muttered out, like if the words were spoken to loudly it would cause him physical pain.

"What the fuck?!" You gasped out.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Masterlist

[darkenedwhispers]

A Bite of Eternity

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x vampire reader

The night was always the same for you, but tonight felt different. The moon hung high in the sky, casting its pale light over the dark streets. You had lived long enough to recognize the weight of the night. The weight of time catching up with you.

As a vampire, you had learned how to survive: moving through the shadows, keeping to yourself, and never letting anyone get too close. Relationships were a mess, and you knew better than to trust anyone. You were cursed to live forever, and those you cared for would always fade away. But Wanda… she was different. You didn’t know how or why, but when she walked into your life, you found yourself unable to resist the pull.

The bar was dimly lit, a hazy mixture of smoke, loud conversations, and the clink of glasses filling the air. It was the kind of place you frequented to pass the time, to blend into the crowd and avoid being noticed. Most people wouldn’t even look twice at you, and that was how you preferred it.

But tonight, as you stood at the far end of the bar, something shifted. It started with a feeling, an odd prickling sensation at the back of your neck. You ignored it at first, your eyes scanning the dark corners of the room. Then, as if pulled by some invisible force, you turned your head. That’s when you saw her.

She stood at the entrance, bathed in the soft glow of the door’s dim light, her dark red hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders. Wanda. Her presence was magnetic, drawing your gaze instantly. There was something different about her, something that made the room feel suddenly smaller, quieter. The way she moved, with purpose yet grace, was impossible to ignore.

Your eyes met hers, and for a moment, everything around you faded into the background. The noise, the people, the clinking of glasses, all of it disappeared. Her eyes, dark yet filled with depth, locked onto yours as if she were searching for something in you. She didn’t look away. Neither did you.

You shouldn’t have been so captivated. It was dangerous, reckless even. But she wasn’t just another human. There was something more in her. You could sense it, a power that resonated beyond the physical. Her pain, her strength, her vulnerability, all of it called to you in a way that you couldn’t explain.

Wanda broke the silence first, stepping towards you with the same quiet intensity. She didn’t look like the type to approach strangers, and yet, here she was. Her footsteps were measured, purposeful, like she had made a decision and was following through with it.

“Mind if I join you?” she asked softly, her voice almost melodic. There was a slight accent to it, something you couldn’t quite place, but it felt familiar somehow. It drew you in, adding another layer to the mystery of her presence.

You blinked, taken off guard by the unexpected question. It wasn’t often you were approached by anyone, let alone with such confidence. You hesitated for just a moment, unsure of what to say or do. But she was standing there, looking at you with those piercing eyes, waiting for your response.

You took a breath, trying to compose yourself, and then nodded slowly, your voice quiet. “Sure.”

She took the empty seat next to you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of her presence but not too close to make it uncomfortable. She didn’t waste time with small talk. Instead, she simply observed you, her eyes scanning your face, as if she were trying to figure you out, peeling back the layers of your carefully constructed persona.

“I’ve never seen you around here before,” she said, her voice carrying a subtle curiosity.

“I don’t come here often,” you replied, offering her a half-smile. You didn’t want to reveal too much about yourself. It was better to remain a mystery. Besides, people tended to pry, and you didn’t want her to get too close.

There was a brief silence between you, the weight of the moment settling in. Wanda didn’t seem uncomfortable with it. Instead, she seemed to welcome it, her gaze unwavering as she studied you. You could feel her probing, sensing that she was trying to understand you in a way that felt almost too intimate.

And then, she broke the silence again, her voice a little softer this time. “What’s your name?”

You stiffened slightly. It had been so long since anyone had asked. You didn’t use your real name anymore. You hadn’t in years. It was a barrier, a way of keeping the world at arm’s length. You weren’t even sure why it mattered to you, but something about Wanda, something about the way she was looking at you, made you hesitate.

“Y/N,” you said finally, your voice more strained than you intended. You glanced at her, expecting to see a flicker of judgment or confusion, but instead, she simply nodded, her lips curling into a faint, knowing smile.

“Y/N,” she repeated, as if she were tasting it, testing it against the air between you. She seemed pleased by it, and the way she said your name sent a jolt through you, a strange warmth spreading through your chest. It was a feeling you hadn’t allowed yourself to experience in a long time.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The tension between you thickened, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was… inviting. The quiet hum of the bar, the chatter of strangers, seemed far away now. All you could focus on was her, the way her presence filled the space, the way her lips slightly parted as she gazed at you, as though she was waiting for you to say something more.

You weren’t sure what it was, but there was something magnetic about her. A raw energy that both attracted and intimidated you. You found yourself wanting to know more, but at the same time, a part of you recoiled at the idea of getting too close. You were a vampire. You couldn’t afford to get attached. It only led to pain.

But Wanda didn’t give you the chance to pull away. She leaned in slightly, her voice quieter now, more intimate. “What are you running from, Y/N?”

The question struck deep. It was the kind of question you didn’t want to answer, the kind of question that made you want to retreat into yourself. You looked down at your drink, the amber liquid swirling in the glass, trying to steady yourself.

“I’m not running from anything,” you replied, though the words felt hollow even as you said them. It wasn’t entirely a lie, but it wasn’t the truth either. You had spent centuries running from your own nature, from the endless emptiness that came with being what you were.

Wanda’s gaze softened, and for the first time since she’d sat down, you saw something else in her eyes: understanding. Her expression, though subtle, betrayed a knowledge of loss, of pain that mirrored your own.

“I know what it’s like,” she said, her voice quieter now, laced with a vulnerability you hadn’t expected. “To hide from everything. To carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

You met her eyes again, and this time, the pull between you was undeniable. There was something about her, some shared weight you could both feel but not name. A moment of silence passed between you two, and in that silence, you both recognized something unspoken. You weren’t alone in the world, not tonight.

She broke the silence first, but this time, her voice was different, softer, more vulnerable. “I don’t know why, but I feel like I’ve known you for much longer than just tonight.”

Your heart skipped a beat. The way she said it, with such quiet certainty, was both unsettling and comforting at the same time. You didn’t know how to respond.

“I feel the same way,” you said, the words coming out almost on instinct, before you could think better of them.

There was a quiet pause, and Wanda seemed to study you, her lips curving into a small smile, her eyes flickering with something that could only be described as hope. “Then, maybe we’re not as lost as we think.”

And from there, it started.

The days turned into weeks, and the nights were spent together, wandering the quiet streets, taking refuge in dark corners where neither of you could be found. Wanda had a hunger inside her too, a kind of emptiness that no amount of magic could fill. You both existed in the same way: distant, separate from everyone else, as if the world couldn’t touch you. Yet somehow, together, you found solace in one another’s presence.

The attraction was palpable. Her touch lingered in the air even when she wasn’t near, and the tension between you grew stronger with every passing day. You could smell her, her scent of vanilla and something darker, something fierce. Your body reacted instinctively, even if your heart was hesitant. You hadn’t allowed yourself to get close to anyone in centuries, and Wanda... Wanda was like a storm in the distance, something that would inevitably tear you apart, but at the same time, you couldn’t turn away from it.

One night, the two of you found yourselves on the rooftop of a building, looking out at the city below. The wind brushed through Wanda’s hair, and the soft glow of the streetlights reflected in her eyes. She was beautiful, her power contained in a way that made her look almost ethereal.

“I never thought I’d meet someone like you,” she confessed, her voice softer than usual.

You glanced at her, feeling the pull of her presence like a magnetic force. “What do you mean?”

“Someone who understands what it’s like to be alone, truly alone. Not in the way humans are... but someone who’s lost everything,” she said, her gaze distant as she stared out at the city below.

You understood what she meant. You knew that feeling all too well. “I don’t need anyone, Wanda,” you said, your voice betraying a slight tremble. “I’ve lived for so long that... it feels like there’s no point anymore.”

Wanda took a step closer, her hand reaching out to gently touch your cheek. The warmth of her fingers contrasted with the cold night air. “Maybe I don’t need anyone either. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want someone.”

Her words sent a shiver through your body. You could feel the magnetic pull between you, the desire, the fear, all mixing together. It was too much, too powerful to ignore.

Before you could respond, Wanda leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a tentative kiss. It was soft, gentle, as if she was testing the waters, unsure of how you'd react. But you didn’t pull away. Instead, you deepened the kiss, your fangs barely brushing her bottom lip as you pressed your body against hers. The rush of desire was overwhelming, the hunger in you both rising, threatening to take control.

But then, just as quickly, you broke apart, both of you gasping for air.

“What are we doing?” you whispered, your voice shaky.

Wanda’s eyes were wide, her lips swollen from the kiss. “I don’t know. But I don’t want to stop.”

And for the first time in centuries, you didn’t want to stop either.

The storm outside raged on, the thunder crashing like a warning that neither of you could ignore. The room was dimly lit, the flickering candlelight casting soft shadows on the walls. You could feel your pulse racing, the hunger deep inside you clawing at your insides, more powerful than you’d ever felt before.

Wanda stood in front of you, her eyes wide with both trepidation and something else, something darker and more trusting. You had tried to fight it. Tried to convince yourself that this was a line you couldn’t cross, that taking from her would be a betrayal. But the hunger was too much. The bloodlust was a part of you that couldn’t be denied, and Wanda... Wanda had opened the door to it without realizing.

Her hand reached out to gently cup your cheek, her touch warm against your cold skin. “I trust you,” she whispered, her voice trembling with uncertainty, but there was also something fierce and unwavering in it.

You looked into her eyes, those deep, molten eyes full of a thousand emotions, desire, fear, longing, and love. And for the first time in centuries, you felt something stir inside you that wasn’t just hunger. It was something more. A connection. A bond that you hadn’t known was possible.

But the pull of the hunger was stronger. And as much as you tried to resist, you couldn’t. You leaned in, your breath warm against her skin, and for a moment, there was nothing but the two of you, the storm outside, the world, all of it faded away. Only her, and the blood you so desperately needed.

Your lips brushed against her skin, just above her pulse. It was tempting. So tempting. You hesitated, wanting to savor the moment, wanting to make sure she was okay with this. And then, with a gentle sigh, you sank your fangs into her neck.

The moment your fangs pierced her skin, you felt her flinch, but it wasn’t fear. It was... surrender. Her breath hitched as you drew the first taste of her blood into your mouth, and something inside you snapped. It wasn’t just hunger you were feeding; it was something deeper. Something raw. It was the way she allowed you to take from her, the way she opened herself up to you, trusting you in a way no one ever had.

You didn’t take much. You never did. Vampires like you were born with a kind of control over the bloodlust, a way of savoring every drop, not letting it overtake you. And you didn’t want to take too much from Wanda. She wasn’t just any human. She was different, her blood rich with power, with magic. And as you drank, you could feel her essence flowing into you, and it made your heart ache in a way you didn’t know was possible.

Her blood was warm, but there was a sweetness to it that made you feel alive in ways you hadn’t in centuries. Each pull was slow, deliberate, your mouth savoring the taste of her life force. Her body shuddered beneath your touch, but it wasn’t pain. It was something else, a deeper connection, a pull between you both that went beyond the physical. Her magic was like a current that coursed through you, igniting something in your chest, and you could feel her feelings, her desires, all of it. It was like drinking from her not just with your body, but with your soul.

You could feel her trembling beneath you, but it wasn’t in fear. No, it was a different kind of trembling, something more intimate, something more vulnerable. She was letting you in, and you could feel the bond between you two deepening with every drop you took.

But you knew when to stop. You always did. The moment you pulled away, you found yourself gazing at her with something more than just hunger. Something akin to awe. She was still standing, her body pressed close to yours, her breathing heavy, her hand reaching up to touch her neck where you had bitten her. There was a trace of blood on her skin, and it sent a shiver through your body, a reminder of the power you now shared.

Your heart raced, but there was a quietness inside you. A peace. You couldn’t explain it. Not fully.

“Wanda...” You whispered her name softly, your voice filled with uncertainty as you gently cupped her face, wiping the blood from her skin with your thumb. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

Her eyes fluttered open, her pupils dilated, but there was no fear. Only warmth. “I’m okay,” she murmured, her voice hushed. She reached up to touch your face, her fingers trailing lightly over your cold skin. “I knew you wouldn’t hurt me, I trust you.”

A tightness in your chest eased, but there was something else. A kind of sadness mixed with something deep and profound. You had taken a part of her, but in return, she had given you something you never expected: trust, love, a piece of her soul. And you couldn’t help but realize that what you had just done had somehow changed everything.

You brushed your thumb over her lips, still damp with blood. “You don’t have to do this for me, Wanda. You don’t have to let me take from you.”

Her hand grasped yours, holding it tightly, pulling it to her chest, where you could feel the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. “But I want to,” she said softly, her eyes locking with yours. “I’ve always wanted to give you a part of me. I don’t know why, but... I don’t fear you, I never did.”

And in that moment, as you stood there with her, her blood still warm on your lips, you realized just how much she had already given you. A part of her heart. A part of herself that you could never take for granted.

You leaned in again, but this time, it wasn’t about hunger. It was about something much more intimate. Her lips met yours, tasting the faint trace of her blood on your mouth, and there was a sweetness to it that wasn’t just physical. It was her. Her trust. Her love.

And in that kiss, you realized that you were no longer just a vampire. You were someone else entirely. Someone who had found something worth living for again.

[oizysian]

Omg can you write like bottom!Lizzie x top! G!p reader x top! G!p Scarlett. And both of them overstimulating her by double penetration. With fluff in the end please please PLEASE 🥺

We're Gonna Make You Feel Good | Elizabeth Olsen

Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x Scarlett Johansson x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1200+ Genre: Smut AN: I changed it to straps I hope you don't mind! Thank you for the request!

“Open that pretty mouth, Lizzie. You need to get this nice and wet.”

She opened her mouth obediently, taking Scarlett’s strap to the hilt. I watched eagerly, stroking my own silicon dick, waiting for my turn with the beautiful blonde.

“Yeah, just like that.” She cooed softly, running her fingers through the younger girl’s hair.

“You’re so good at that, Lizzie.” I said, admiring how she took the length of it without gagging.

“That’s because she’s a good slut, aren’t you, Lizzie?”

She made a sound of confirmation as her head bobbed up and down on Scarlett’s cock. I couldn’t contain my excitement as I continued to watch, scooting up behind Lizzie and grabbing at her hips, positioning myself behind her.

She tried to pull off of Scarlett and look back at me, but she kept a grip on her hair, keeping her on her cock.

“Don’t worry about her,” Scarlett said softly, smirking at me as I stroked my cock, bringing it to Lizzie’s cunt. “We’re gonna make you feel good.”

She let out a low moan as I let the dick slide between her folds, getting it slick with her wetness. She pressed her ass back against me and I chuckled at her eagerness, letting my cock brush against her throbbing clit.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” She taunted her, forcing her head down on the dick. “You like us using you like our little cumslut, huh?”

Lizzie’s reply was muffled by the cock down her throat, and I was distracted by the look of the veiny, purple cock slipping in and out between her legs. She moaned, letting out a low groan as I finally stopped teasing her and let the dildo slip inside her heat.

I grabbed her by the hips and thrust into her, holding her against me as she got used to the feel of me inside her. She pressed up against me again, signaling to me that she was ready for me to pound into her.

My nails dug into her skin as I fucked her, the sounds of her lewd, muffled moans fueling my inner fire that was burning just for her. I thrust myself into her, grunting like some kind of animal as I took her from behind.

Scarlett let go of Lizzie’s hair, finally allowing her to bring herself off of Scarlett’s cock and catch her breath.

“Oh, god, Y/N.” She cried out, drool dripping from her lips and down her chin.

“Y/N, get under her.” Scarlett demanded and I looked at her, the question dying on my tongue as she stared back at me.

I begrudgingly pulled out of Lizzie, her slick dripping onto the bed, and wriggled myself underneath her. She looked down at me, dazed, and I raised myself up to kiss her full, wet lips.

I grunted as Scarlett grabbed at the cock between my legs, the other half of it shifting inside me as she positioned me back at Lizzie’s entrance. Lizzie moaned into my mouth, a sweet sound as she slid down onto my cock.

I reached down to grab her ass, pulling her down onto me. Scarlett got off of the bed and went over to the closet as Lizzie lazily fucked herself on me. I was so busy with Elizabeth that I didn’t even realize Scarlett was getting ropes - to tie me up with.

She came over to the head of the bed, making intricate knots before taking my hands from Lizzie’s perfect ass and tying them to the headboard.

“H-hey!” I cried, parting from Lizzie to look up at our other lover.

“I don’t want you moving.” She said coolly, giving me a smile as she moved back behind Lizzie.

I couldn’t see Scarlett anymore, but I could hear her shuffling around. I returned my attention to Lizzie, giving her the kisses she deserved as she got fucked.

I struggled slightly against the ropes, wanting so badly to touch her as she lowered herself down onto my cock, her gasping breaths against my lips making me thrust my hips upward toward her harder.

“Calm down, Y/N.” Scarlett said, grabbing Lizzie by the hips and pressing herself up against her.

“What are you doing?” I questioned breathlessly as Lizzie continued to kiss and lick at my lips.

“I’m gonna fuck her too.” She let out a soft grunt and I watched as Lizzie’s eyes went wide.

She let out a moaning whimper, leaning her forehead against mine as Scarlett worked her cock into her ass.

“Relax,” she said softly, forcing Lizzie down onto my strap as she pushed herself inside of her. “I told you we’re gonna make you feel good.”

“Y/N,” Lizzie whimpered softly, her eyes staring deeply into my own as Scarlett slowly slid into her. “Kiss me.”

I pressed my lips to hers, muffling any further sounds she made as Scarlett began fucking her.

Lizzie stopped responding to my kisses, her mouth falling open and her brow furrowing as she got fucked in both of her holes. I continued to kiss her as my hips moved up against her.

Her arms finally gave out and she laid flat on top of me, her head resting just underneath my chin as we both pounded into her. All I wanted was to touch her, but my hands were bound and I was helpless - being forced to just watch as her cute little ass got pounded into.

She grabbed onto my arms, holding on as Scarlett and I fucked her. She made pathetic, whimpering sounds, and I had to bite my lip to keep myself from cumming just from that alone.

“Oh, fuck, I’m close.” Scarlett grunted, her nails digging deeply into the soft skin of Lizzie’s hips.

Lizzie let out a gasping cry and I realized that Scarlett had cum inside her, the sticky sweet liquid dripping down from her ass onto my legs.

“Yeah,” she said as she rode out her high, squeezing the balls of the cock for all that they were worth so that every drop of cum went into Lizzie’s ass. “Fuck yeah.”

“Untie me.” I practically begged, tugging on the ropes that held me down.

Scarlett sighed, pulling herself out from Lizzie’s abused ass, and lazily walking over to the head of the bed to release me. Once my hands were free, I flipped us over, noting that Scarlett now stood nearby and was watching as I hooked my arms under Lizzie’s knees as pressed them against her chest, fucking her deep and hard as my own orgasm approached.

Her eyes rolled in the back of her head as I hit the deepest part of her. I released one of her legs and brought my hand down between our bodies, rubbing tight circles on her clit. She babbled my name mindlessly, her hair messy, drool dripping down her chin, as I fucked her.

She let out a high pitched whine as she came and I couldn’t hold my own orgasm back any longer, pressing myself against her so I was deep inside her, I squeezed the base of my own cock, coating her insides with cum.

“Oh, god, Y/N!” She cried, completely blissed out.

I leaned my head down and captured her lips with my own, pressing myself against her so I could be as close to her as possible.

“Now, that was a show.” Scarlett said, smirking at us as we both began to relax. “How ya feeling, Lizzie?”

“Great.” She mumbled softly, her voice sounding dazed as I continued to kiss her neck and throat.

“Just like I promised.”

[bi-ss]

~ Ties that bind ~

Bucky x reader- arranged marriage.

Warnings - non, I don't think..

(This is a little bit of part 1, so I made write more I may not, we'll see. I'm also going to give the reader and her parents a positive relationship. idk I think it suits the best

You always knew you were to be married off. Your mother was always transparent with you about that. She always told you that you may not like the man or woman, but love was always hard to find anyway. So one day, when you were 16, you typed up an agreement and gave it to your father about if you were married off, what you wanted, you do have your mother's stubbornness after all.

*knock knock*

"Come in," hearing your father grumble, you push the dark wooden doors which you are a lot heavier than your dad and his men made it seem. You stand in the doorway for a second before your dad gets up from behind his desk. He slowly walked round, motioning for you to come in and close the door. He pulled a comfy seat out a bit before sitting on his desk. You sat out looking up at him, handing him the typed papers in your hands. He looked at the title and gave it back to you.

"Read it to me, Ladybug." You smiled at the nickname he used and has used since you were a baby. "I see your mother as prepared you for this, and I see you listened for once," he joked, knowing you never liked working or school for that matter.

"I don't want to be a housewife, can't think of anything worse," you scoffed at your remark while your dad just laughed, still smiling down at you. "But I would prefer if you read it then get back to me as I told mother I'd help her cook.. it's burrito night!" He slowly nodded at you. Reading aloud wasn't something you liked doing. Taking the papers stapled together, you got up and started walking towards the doors, dreading the embarrassment of trying to open them again, but you didn't have to. Your dad was right behind you, holding it for you like you didn't just use all the strength to pry it just a little.

That's how you life's always been, your mother, a housewife. Your mother was the most beautiful and mature woman to probably ever exist, her long vibrant curly ginger hair, her pale soft skin loaded with freckle, her forest green eyes complemented everything about her even those rosy cheeks and lips. She adored your father as much or even more as he adored her. They do say opposites attract, fitting for your parents as your father, the breadwinner. Your father was a handsome and smart man, with dark chocolate hair which your mother loved putting into pigtails, his skin is covered with tattoos front to back, up and down, his toned and tan skin barely visible, his one good eye a smokie light grey colour, is other eye was sew shut while being littered with scars. Your dad has become more careful and gentle when your mother is pregnant. It wasn't hard to see that his men liked this change to, according to your mother. An example is when the twins joined, Wanda and Pietro maximoff joined, and they were put through uni with help from the family in case they wanted an out, making sure they had a choice. They stayed by the family's side.

Now, 6 years later, you're sitting in your fathers office it hasn't changed a bit, you can't say the same about them, he was sitting on the worn-out leather chair with your mother behind him, their hair turning grey and with smile line proudly on display. You sitting at the side of the desk, not next to your dad and not next to Mrs and Mr Barnes, with their irritated son, James Barnes. The meeting was already off to a bad start when his girlfriend Sharon demanding to attend, but met with your dad saying he didn't have business with her and if that's know they did things, he'll call it off. You listened in on the conversation when your dad wasn't there, and to sum it up, Mr Barnes threatened, saying he'll disown his son and give it all to Rebecca. She's now at the bottom of the stairs being watched secretly by maids, workers, and guards. The elderly guest were very shocked at the fact they didn't even know you were there when they were giving the to toddler a reality check, which made both your parents proud and all 4 laugh about it. Before the definition of cantankerous, egocentric, and many more adjectives, you couldn't ever walk in.

. . . . .To be continued. . . .