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gingiesworld · 6 months

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Demonic

Nun Wanda Maximoff x Demon Fem Reader

Warnings: Smut. Shameless smut. If you aren't comfortable with reading it, just scroll along and don't press any buttons. You are banned from pressing buttons ;),

Taglist: @bababaka @natashaswife4125 @natashamaximoff-69 @wizardofstories @canvascoloredin @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @marvelogic @louxbloom

18+ MINORS DNI

It was quiet around the covenant, Sister Maximoff was always on last call duty, walking the halls after dark to make sure that her sisters were all secluded to their own quarters. Once she was sure that no one was out after hours, she returned to Sister Y/L/N, she had been there years prior to Wanda's arrival but her other subordinates were oddly submissive to her.

"The halls are clear Sister." Wanda informed her as she closed the door behind her.

"Thank you Sister Maximoff." She walked around Wanda and locked the door before she pushed Wanda to sit in the chair, a sinister smile on her face as she looked over the beauty before her. "It's a shame really."

"What is?" Wanda questioned as she tilted her head. A look of confusion on her face.

"Your beauty is such a waste here." She whispered as she leaned over Wanda, her eyes flickering black for a brief moment.

"I don't understand." Wanda whispered as Y/N smirked.

"Such an innocent being." She husked out as she caressed Wanda's jaw with her long cold fingers. "I bet it was your father's wish to send you here." Wanda was stunned by how bold Sister Y/L/N was being, but her mind was also on the way her fingertips felt on her skin.

"My father only wanted me to follow the path that God had set out for me." She whispered as Y/N chuckled manically.

"What about the path you wanted for yourself?" Y/N questioned. "The adventures you could have been having outside of these confines."

"You speak as though you know of such adventures." Wanda stated as Y/N smiled down at her words.

"Such a smart girl." Y/N praised her. "I bet you yearn to live a full life, not this half life you have taken on."

"You're just as stuck as me." Wanda told her.

"That's where you are wrong, my sweet love." Y/N snarled as she leaned in closer to her. "I have the freedom to leave this place, with just the snap of my fingers."

"But our path." Wanda tried as Y/N's hands moved to her thighs, squeezing harshly before moving them up.

"Our paths have been entwined." Y/N husked as her hands moved just above her pubic bone, gripping at the fabric that covered her. "Not the path your father has chosen for you." She ripped the fabric away, revealing Wanda's white underwear. "The path that was written for us." Her hands ghosted over Wanda's covered core, licking her lips as she looked into Wanda's eyes. Her eyes changing to their natural smoky black, causing Wanda to gasp.

"You're." She tried to fight Y/N away who gripped her hands, baring her teeth at the woman.

"Yes." She snarled. "I am and I always get what I want." She leaned closer to Wanda who turned her face away. "And I want you." She bit Wanda's ear, making the woman whimper at the new sensation.

"This isn't right." Wanda whispered as Y/N started to nip softly at her neck, her hands moving to Wanda's underwear, ripping them away and causing her to gasp as the cold air brushed against her puffy and dripping cunt.

"Yet, you aren't pushing me away." Y/N inhaled through her nose. "And your arousal says you want this just as much as I." She growled as she thrusted a finger in her gaping hole, causing Wanda to moan at the sudden intrusion. "Listen to the sound Wanda, your juices flowing, all for me and me alone."

"All for you." Wanda whimpered as Y/N kept a steady pace.

"Look at my fingers Wanda." Y/N growled as she added another. "Look at how they disappear inside of you." Wanda moaned at the sight, Y/N's digits disappearing and reappearing at a faster pace. "I want to ruin you." She growled. "Make you mine. Mark your soul as mine."

"Please." Wanda moaned as she gripped the sides of the chair. "Take me away." Her eyes closed as she reached her first ever orgasm, her cum coating Y/N's fingers as she helped her ride out her high. Wanda listened as Y/N chanted in old Latin before she felt a burning sensation on her wrist. Y/N's mark now burned into her porcelain skin.

"Now you are mine for the taking." And in that moment, the two disappeared, leaving the room as it were before they had participated in their activities.

Y/N had shown Wanda the life and the adventures she was missing out on. The touch and ravenous love of another as she had mind blowing orgasms, night after night. Completely forgoing the oath she had made at her father's request, the disappointment of her father would not affect her as she felt everything that was only ever described in those novels she loved to read when she was a girl.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda x you #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #save nun wanda #lets all save nun wanda #nun wanda’s cross

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rayrayor · 6 months

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Ok if you had false hope at chapter 28 then realized it was a oops, it’s now a few hours later and the real chapter 29 is updated .

Life is about to start getting ready to live together as Mickeys release date comes closer.

Plus a big ( ish ) surprise

As always the art for this fic is found in chapter 11, from the Uber talented @darthvaders-wife . Thank you Alice

#gallavich fanfic #gallavich #gallavich fic #ian and mickey #mickey milkovich #shameless fanfiction #mickey x ian #ian waits for mickey #mickey in prison #prison mickey #prison letters #growing up together and apart #T #ao3 author #ao3 link #ao3 fanfic #yeah I cried writing part of this chapter #happy tears though #sister Meg is warrior badass nun

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charliesgoodboy · 7 months

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Hi idk if you write for shameless but if you could do Ian and Mickey and a shy male reader who they just love to tease bc they like seeing him get all flustered. Like he’ll start blushing or stumbling over his words

I.GALLAGHER M.MILKOVICH🕷

we goin' dumb

girl, got me fucked up.

mmm this yeah here, lean in my cup

can't tell me 'bout shit 'bout nun'

told the bitch don't shut me up,

wanna see them bands

wanna see them bucks.

bad bitches 'gon love me up,

bad bitches 'gon love me up.

song: . . .ılı GMFU odetari, 6arelyhuman

TW: teasing, male leaning reader(fem welcome because i do not care), i think i made reader a little touch starved, reader is actually shy not that uwu shit(hopefully i did, i word things horrible), bottom leaning reader, you may or may not be able to tell which is my favorite(it's the one who isn't ginger)

ian gallagher who wouldn't mean to 'make fun of you' in a way, he just found the fact you'd sometimes cling to him or whisper words you were going to say to a waiter to yourself but you'd end up looking at him to take the order for you. watching you mutter a 'thank you' as the woman would write down your order and walk away, he couldn't help but smile, you'd do this almost all the time with others but with him you could talk your ear off if you were really, really, really comfortable. only being comfortable isn't enough you could still barely look him in the eye, you were working on it though. "could you look at me when you're speaking? i feel like you're talking to fifty different people." "i am." "could've fooled me."

mickey milkovich who would think you're rude and weird as shit when he first met you, the looking at me in the eye thing would bug him and itch at him at times. "hey, who are you talkin' to? your eyes are movin' around like thirty miles per second" "i'm talking to you–" "and speak up, no one can hear you sweetheart." the name sweetheart was clearly ironic and he didn't mean it but the laughing fit he'd go into seeing how truly effected you were by it, you looked like your mom caught you up late at night on a school night damn. but as time would pass he'd learn to live with it, not without taking advantage of it of course he wasn't that stupid.

ian gallagher who would purposely scoot closer to you on the couch not for the sake of the two of you being together but the sake of feeling you tense up when all he did was scoot a few and wrap his arm around your shoulder as the movie played. his eyes would linger at your body language with your nails scratching your wrist and your legs rubbing together and crossing sooner or later obvious discomfort but just in a different way he'd fix that for you. "need a little help there?" "n—no." "so yes?" he could just tell you felt pins and needles all around the embarrassment was getting to you like a bitch but damn he was tempting.

mikey milkovich who felt and indescribable feeling having sex with you. obviously he's shared you with ian before, and he's had sex with only ian before and those times were very memorable. but he still loved to have just you, shit anyone could get addicted to you. your body shivering and jolting at almost any touch he'd give you, going a little slow at first then slowly getting rougher with you loving each and every moan, groan, and whimper. the edging wojld be almost never ending and him sucking you off was euphoric, fuck he was talented with his tounge. his tattooed hands holding your thighs to keep your legs open as the warm feeling would bubble in your stomach each and every time you felt like cumming, your legs trying to close together in sensitivity but he wanted to swallow all of you. "you gotta work on tryna' keep your damn legs closed." "i do try.. " "doesn't mean it's not hot, i changed my mind."

ian gallagher and mickey milkovich that loved looking at the different expressions on your face of pleasure which let them know how well they were doing. mickey could have you take him from the back and ian would have you take him in by the mouth instead, your eyes blinking a little faster and rolling back due to the both of them. jealousy talks would be hell between the three, neither you or mickey could fess up to it or explain the hell he was doing wrong. but with just you? shit you were good at hiding it but they could tell if you had something to say. "you gonna tell us whats wrong? or are you gonna sit there lookin' like a bomb that's 'bout to implode." "tell you what? there isn't anything to tell." "you're a terrible liar, put your chin up and say what's the matter." damn this was gonna be a long night.

#shameless x reader #shameless x male reader #shameless smut #shameless x you #shameless x y/n #mickey milkovich x reader #mickey x reader #mickey milkovich x male reader #ian gallagher x mickey milkovich #ian gallagher x male reader #ian gallagher x reader #ian gallagher #ian gallagher smut #mickey milkovich #mickey milkovich smut

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honey-tongued-devil · 7 months

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Eat me

And with this, we have three out of four works completed. Only Copia is missing, and then maybe a couple of extras, even if just rough drafts (nobody believes that, cough cough). In the time-lapse of this, you can see my inner struggle to want to insert myself, the nun had a face twice, and I really had to contemplate leaving her without one. I think at the end of the series, I'll explain the purpose of the miniseries for those who are interested, but for now, I'll just say that the reason is that I want to kiss old men on the lips.

And now, it's late, and I should sleep, but I'm thinking of a collection of short fanfiction stories between the Popes and the Sisters. Or between the Popes and the readers. The voices in my head are very loud tonight, I have to go to bed.

If you like it, let me know, if you leave shameless comments, I appreciate them, they're worth as much as a tip. If you also want to kiss old men on the lips, let's start a club.

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notdiabolika · 4 days

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Yui's Life Before Them.

Yes, before them.

Before the nightmares and the pure disgrace that settled in Eve’s life, staining her future with a sense of never-ending agony after acknowledging the truth of her existence and the unstoppable chase for Adam.

[Português]

･ . ⋆ ･ . ⋆ ･ . ⋆ ･ . ⋆ ･ . ⋆ ･ . ⋆ ･ . ⋆ ･ . ⋆ ･ . ⋆ ･ . ⋆ ･･ . ⋆ ･ . ⋆ ･ . ⋆ ･ . ⋆ ･ . ⋆ ･ . ⋆ ･ . ⋆ ･ . ⋆ ･ . ⋆ ･ . ⋆･ . ⋆ ･ . ⋆ ･ . ⋆ ･ . ⋆ ･ . ⋆ ･ . ⋆ ･ . ⋆ ･ . ⋆ ･ . ⋆ ･ . ⋆ ･･ . ⋆ ･ . ⋆

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

➻ Yui, who loved jumping in water puddles.

“Am I too old for this? I wonder…”

Thunderstorms and loud noises are scary, but water puddles? They're friendly. Bathed by the rays of light, the water would glisten during the morning, and she would like nothing more than to jump on them. ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

➻ Yui, who learned gardening from a young age.

She got told (lied to) by nuns that her mother loved gardening.

That made her water the church’s garden all the time. Sometimes with too much water, but rarely the plants would die. Yui wondered if her mother was as strong as these flowers, and if she – herself – could be as strong as them.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

➻ Yui, who rarely could participate in sleepovers

Or parties, for that matter. Seiji had always been quite the strict parent.

She got herself a small and caring group of friends who would go out of their way to always talk with her dad, even inviting him to come along to supervise the events if he wanted. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it didn't.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

➻ Yui, who just wished for a normal life

Not away from religion, but in a household with fewer rules.

Yui loved her dad. However, she wanted to hang out with the other girl groups sometimes. Wear lipstick, paint nails, dye her hair, maybe? It's not like she was forbidden to do everything, but she got told no more often than yes.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Little did she know what sort of future awaited her…

(This is a shameless redesign of my Instagram post on not_so_diabolik_lovers.)

#diabolik lovers #diaboliklovers #diabolik lovers fandom #yui komori #yuikomori #komori yui #diabolik lovers headcanons #diabolik lovers headcanon #yui komori headcanon

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impossiblesongs · 27 days

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nobody loves me, it's true (dhawan!master x reader)

Summary: You don’t know why this kind of does it for you. What awful implications can be drawn from the outside, the probable one being that your husband hasn’t touched you in months. You are twin beings of woe, holed up in a frigid Russia.

Disclaimer: Not my characters. This is a disclaimer.

WARNING: this chapter may be pure filth. NC17. MINORS DNI AN: i've been trying to get better at smut and technically this is my third try at writing this kind of thing, but this is the first time i'm actually posting it, so....... jealous idiots = shameless rasputin smash. apologies to the late russian royals, you were but ploys in this virtually non-existent plot and i used the basest of my knowledge including you, so i beg of you: LOOK AWAY AN2: but is there plot here, you’d ask? to which, it’s a weekend before resurrection, i’d say. we all get a free pass?? AN3: fic title from 'sour times' by portishead

✍️✍️✍️fic masterlist

nobody loves me, it’s true dhawan!master x reader dhawan!master timeline: pre-power of the doctor

He’s virtually got an entire army at his beck and call, and yet you both find yourselves in St. Petersburg in 1916. Even with the survival of his beloved Cyber Masters, he spends more time committing himself to holiness and to Russia. You are virtually his shadow, garbed in black, his companion. A healer nun, or whatever he deigns to call you lately that has you able to slink around the palace virtually unbothered.

“She doesn’t speak, you see,” he once relayed to Alexandra, a tear in his eye, “attends to me, with astounding servitude.”

At first, it rankles, how he baits you with the softness he treats Alexandra, but he’s mostly sulking. He was plainly jealous after you met with the Doctor. Which is ridiculous, but as you are standing now, with seemingly no rhyme or reason other than sowing chaos, at least he was getting back to some kind of his usual business. Or so you tell yourself.

You hear him return to the cottage before you see him. You’d made it back before he had, tasked with monitoring the child royal while he played at politics.

“How fares our little blood clot today?”

“You have care of Alexei now, do you? Oh, I forgot, I’ve taken a vow of silence.”

“Snark does not become you, dearest,” he says, dropping onto the chair in front of the desk.

“Nor holiness you,” you say, “and yet.”

“Alexandra was a vision in white today,” the Master adds with a sigh. “She just about ravaged me with her gaze, you should have seen it. To be honest, I just don’t know how much longer she’ll be able to help herself.”

“Oh, you think you are so funny,” you tear your headdress from your head and run a hand through your hair, massaging the area. You don’t fail to note that he’s trailing your every move with hooded eyes. “Please, do leave your delusions to your alluded God. He’s just as baseless.”

“You know, dear, I think perhaps you’ve just convinced me to make the first move. I’ll seek her out in the dead of night, passing off terrible proclamations and offering heady absolutions,” he snaps his fingers, “all in one fell swoop. It seemed to work on you.”

Your lips spread in a wide smirk, your heart never used to the careless way he chips away at it these days, but you’ll be damned to show it. His lips want to pull up at the sight of your smile, you know the tells of it, but he fights to maintain his image of absolute indifference.

You find yourself walking forward slowly, nearing the table and him. His eyes remain rooted upon your approach, you see his body shift subtly towards you in attention. You wonder if he’s aware of it, what he’s telling himself about his outward reactions being so transparent, even in the face of his dastard cruelty.

His hair is longer than he’s ever had it with this face, beard frankly horrendous, eyes tinted a metallic blue. He looks enough the part of a madman, some cruel creature conjured up, comes to prey upon you and the unfathomable limitless existence you allow him.

You don’t know why this kind of does it for you. What awful implications can be drawn from the outside, the probable one being that your husband hasn’t touched you in months. You are twin beings of woe, holed up in a frigid Russia.

You skirt the side of his desk with a finger before moving to sit right at the center of it.

The Master splays his knees in answer but makes no further outward acquiesce to your nearness, his eyes remain speculative.

It stirs something in you, something so glaringly furious that it makes you frighteningly calm.

You toe off the stupid shoes that accompany this ridiculous get-up and prop one bare foot on his knee, whilst the other swings idly near his calf.

“I think if you made a move on Alexandra,” you say, “the Doctor would immediately know of it.”

The Master scoots his chair forward, effectively bridging the gap and prompting your foot to slide further up.

“Do you?” He queries conversationally, eyes peering off as in deep thought while his hand cups your other foot near his calf and brings it to sit on his thigh.

“Quite hard to gloss over an Empress with an icepick run through her eyeball, even if History bores you to death,” you say. "You wouldn't miss that new detail."

The Master laughs mildly, “You’d do that to me? Expose my plots? For jealousy?”

Without thinking further about it, you slip from the desk onto his lap easily and your fingers curl around the hair at the back of his head, pulling sharply. He hisses, body going taut beneath you. You bring your lips to his ear, “I think you know by now that I’d do more for less when it comes to you.”

His laughter comes in jagged huffs now, “Oh, I’d love to see you try, pet. You startle me, truly. Quaking in my gear.”

“You’re something,” you relent the hold on his hair and pull back to look at him, “I don’t know if you even notice it anymore, it’s been so long. But look at your hands.”

You watch him swallow and feel him flex his fingers. They’re clutching at the flesh at the back of your thighs under your dress. They’ve clearly wandered without his intent.

“Dear me,” he utters, eyes wide and watching you like you’re the only thing that exists in the world. His fingers start stroking nearer to where you want him most, watching as he trails the flush breaking across your skin. “Whatever will you do to answer to this offense?”

“Well,” you take care to speak gently against his lips, but you don’t press, you don’t give, “Father Grigori, I’d suppose, you’d have to beg for it.”

The Master’s eyes narrow and his face hardens, “I don’t beg, not for anyone.”

“Shame,” you lean back and press your legs together, retreating from the warmth of his touch and climbing off his lap with steel in your veins. You settle back on the desk, skin scalding from where he’s touched you, knickers already soaked through. “You’ve a good idea, though. Perchance I’ll go find myself an Emperor,” you say, voice husky, “I hear he’s a worshiping sort.”

The Master jolts upright and grasps your throat roughly in both hands, leaning closer to tower over you, almost swallowing you with the length of his body. You squirm with anticipation, delighting in the slow pressure of his hand, the dizzying and delicious effect when he squeezes.

This threat is so double-edged and precarious, that it will cost both of you. It’s reckless and dangerous, but he’s painfully livid at the mere idea. The insinuation of you sleeping with someone else all the while playing ignorant to the fact that he’d just threatened to do the same. Normally you’d loathe to stoke that fire, but if he’s going to bait you, it’s only fair to bully him in return.

“He’d have no idea,” you push even further, “the things I could show this Emperor. Imagine that, modern woman like me, effectively tainting the hand of Russia towards degeneracy. I’d do it again and again, and again. Poor Alexandra, there’d be no denying because I’d have his scent all over me. But, of course, you’d know. I even managed to show you a few things, didn’t I?”

He startles still when you grasp him through his clothes, face twisting in a way that’s akin to agony.

“Beg,” you coo, moving your hand in firm, even strokes.

Even with his robe giving him what you amount to the barest of sensations, he strains towards your touch, seeking the friction desperately.

“Or perhaps you should go find Alexandra,” you hiss, tearing your hand away and moving to stand, intending to push yourself away and leave him in his wanting.

The string snaps as it’s pulled, just like you estimated.

The Master’s fingers curl over said wrist with a swiftness you’d not expected, bending it backward painfully. You cry out just as his mouth crashes onto yours. He crowds your body up onto the desk further, bending your legs and hefting your wool skirt to your waist, manhandling you so roughly it makes your breath stutter from your lungs, has you spreading your legs wantonly.

He makes quick, uninventive work of it, but your blood and lust are already up, and you cry out gratefully when he pushes himself inside of you.

You must both make such grotesque misshapen figures, both virtually fully clothed and rutting against each other, chasing climax in the heart of Russia of all places. This isn’t initially where you’d considered he would finally crack, but then again, you thought he would give in months back. You’d never believed that either of you could keep your hands off one another once you’d both finally given into it.

“Beg,” you cry out, holding onto him fiercely as he bucks up into you, as you push back to meet him, “Master, beg me to fuck no one else but you.”

He digs deeply frustrated fingers into your hips and covers your mouth with his own, the kiss deep and mellowing. He’s hoping you’ll lose your play at power if he stows you away in the bewitching shade of his avidity. Of course, he forgets he’s so easily susceptible, too, and you have a point to prove.

“He’s just as tall as you,” you babble on nonsensically, your release just at the edge of your grasp it has you curling your toes in anticipation, “have you noticed? He’s just your height. Maybe he’d wear his uniform. I’d like that.”

The Master growls furiously, his hips already stuttering, dragging you closer, teetering you both right along that familiar edge.

“Beg, or I swear I’ll dare it. Oh, god, I’ll let him do whatever he likes,” your nip at the soft end of the Master’s ear, “but it’s your name I’ll call out, it’ll always be your name.”

Your orgasm hits you fiercely, robbing the breath right from you and prompting the Master to sob out his release almost in tandem. It whites out your vision, taking you plummeting up high to the heavens only to come smack right down into your body, slouched up against your husband, both of you breathing hard and indulging in quiet after.

It only fully registers as your senses return to you, that a torrent of soft pleas are coming from him as he holds you close and kisses your cheeks, your eyelids, the shell of your ear, your neck. His touch is reverent and doting, he’s gone putty in your hands. You open your eyes and what you see is so ridiculously beautiful. Cosplaying Rasputin aside, he’s the most adorable bastard you’ve ever met, truly.

“Please, don’t, don’t ever love anyone else,” he says. “Not like this, don’t ever do that to me.”

You kiss him quiet. Your physical affection assure him more than your words would, but you say it anyway. “As if I ever could.”

#the master x reader #dhawan!master x reader #wyrwtd

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