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wlw-imagines · 1 month
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It’s Not What It Looks Like - Eloise Bridgerton/Reader (Bridgerton)
request: “can you make like a eloise bridgerton and her lover get caught?” - anon
a/n: very excited to have the time to be writing again, happy days -- set at beginning/mid season 2 ig?? also regency homophobia? pft the bridgertons are above that shit (mostly... so this is a sprinkling of regency homophobia warning ig but more gay pride really !!)
back to new fresh writing from this year (how is it 2024 wtf) - word count is almost 6k yo + no editing because i do not want to
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The two of you giggled like little children as you raced one another up the stairs. Eloise pulled on your arm in an attempt to overtake you but you just about managed to beat her to the spot - despite her cheating tactics. 
You tangled your fingers with hers, holding onto her hand as you opened the door to her room, “We should cause a nuisance to your Mother more often.” You looked over your shoulder and made eye contact as you spoke, grinning mischievously. 
Her cheeks turned a sweet rosy colour as she mirrored your smile, letting go of your hand in favour of wrapping her arms around your waist from behind, her hands rested on your hips.
“Hmm, what a punishment to get sent away to be together.” Eloise expelled an over-dramatic sigh before letting out a light laugh. “After all, we are just doing what we’re told.” She shrugged innocently and moved around you, sitting down and landing on her bed with a bounce.
You laughed, letting your gaze linger across her room, acquainting yourself once more with Eloise’s own space and all the small things that had changed since you were last here, “It seems extremely unlike you to ever do what you are told, my love.” She rolled her eyes with a smile, before patting the space next to her.
“Come here, sit.” She smiled and shifted slightly to the side, “Perhaps close the door first.” You let out a small laugh and turned around, gently pushing the door shut.
Turning back to Eloise, you quirked up an eyebrow and smiled, taking a few steps back to stand in front of her, “Is the door shut so we may have further deep discussions about the poetry you leant me? Because if so-”
As soon as you were close enough, Eloise interrupted you and pulled your body between her legs, pressing against her front. Before you could try to finish your sentence, El had her hand resting on your jaw and had pulled you towards her to kiss you. 
Her kiss was, as always, full of emotion and meaning, though today it was also a kiss with a hint of urgency. You let yourself relax into her as she kept your body firmly against hers in as many ways as possible - craving your touch.
You pulled away gently and rested against her. She closed her eyes and smiled, “I must admit to wanting to do that for the longest time.”
Putting your hand back under her chin, you whispered, “You may do it again, if you so wish.” 
She wrapped her arms around you, rolling and pulling you onto the bed so you were lying on top of her and she giggled, peppering your face with kisses.
“We should be careful, my love.” You said, pursing your lips and glancing at the door as you pushed yourself up. El sighed and pulled you back against her, a slight pout on her lips.
She jutted her chin up slightly in defiance and her pout gave way to a soft smile, “Maybe I do not want to be careful.” 
You let out a small snort and gently raised an eyebrow again, “Hmm,” You pressed a few soft kisses to the corner of her mouth, before moving yourself so you were laying next to her with your legs still across her lap - ignoring her protests. You felt something crackle beneath you and moved to grab it and, upon realising it was the newest Whistledown, you held it out to Eloise, “Did you read the latest gossip?”
She groaned lightly in frustration at your distraction tactics but humoured you all the same, rolling onto her side and propping herself up on her elbow, “I may have been distracted half way through. It arrived just before you did.” Her hand came to rest on your stomach and she gently traced her fingers over the material of your dress.
“Where did you get to?” You asked, the gossip already opened as you re-read the pieces you had seen earlier in the day. Eloise raised her head slightly to look at the paper in your hand and gestured to the third paragraph of the first page.
“Perhaps around there?” She shrugged slightly.
Your eyes widened, “Oh, but you completely missed the best bit!”
“Read it to me?” Eloise asked, looking to you through her eyelashes. You smiled, blushing at the intimacy of the moment. 
“Surely there are more romantic things for me to read to you?”
She just hummed and rested her head against your shoulder, “My heart is so full for you that anything you do makes it beat faster.” 
“You’re very soppy, you know that right?” The blush on your cheeks increased tenfold and you couldn’t resist pressing a soft kiss to her lips, brushing your noses together before moving back slightly.
Before you could get another word out, Eloise’s door burst open and Hyacinth fell into the room, a broad grin on her face. Her eyes skipped around the room, looking for the two of you, “Hello? Sister, please - please may I borrow your silk ribbons for m-
You did your best to scramble up and put a bit more platonic space between yourself and Eloise, “H! Good afterno-”
Eloise lazily rolled over, glancing over her shoulder to see her sister, “Hyacinth? Go away. We were in the middle of-”
Hyacinth cleared her throat and had already begun retreating backwards out of the room, her face bright red, “Oh... I didn’t- Sorry, excuse me.”
Your heart was beating faster now and you called out in an attempt to stop her. You wanted to try to explain that it’s not what it looked like at all, “H, wait-”
“Don’t, just let her go. Stay here with me.” Eloise took your hand and tried to pull you back into her again but you resisted this time.
“No, El, what if she tells someone?”
Eloise sat up next to you with exaggerated effort and huffed, “What would she say? Besides, I still want to do this...” She leant towards you, her hand brushing against your hips as she gently connected her lips with yours, “And you were going to read to me?” She whispered, mere inches away from capturing your lips with hers once more.
“What would she-? Really, my love? What would you say if you were to see... the Duke, for example, practically straddling your sister?”
“Straddling? We weren’t straddling, we were just- It’s not...” The realisation dawned on her as she looked at you and considered the close proximity - her hand on your lower stomach, your legs tangled together. Her face went pale as she whispered, “Oh, fuck. Hyacinth! Sister, it is not what it seems.” She untangled herself from you and jumped off the bed, gathering her skirts as she chased after her sister. “Hyacinth!” 
You took a second to panic before pushing yourself off the bed and you followed El out the room, almost crashing into her back on the landing outside, “Where has she gone?” You asked El, who shrugged and you could see the similar panic in her eyes, mirroring your own.
“Mama!” Hyacinth’s voice drifted to you from below. Your head snapped round to the stairs.
“Bloody hell!” Eloise muttered under her breath, running around you to get to the stairs. She thundered down them and, if you weren’t worried about Hyacinth, then you would have laughed at her complete unladylike stomping.
Hyacinth’s voice wailed again as she looked around for her family, “Mama!”
“Oh my, whatever is the matter?” Violet’s voice joined the mix once Hyacinth had found her, evidently exasperated with all her children’s drama.
“It was Y/N and Eloise! They were... together.”
It felt as though there was an audible eyeroll before the two of you heard a response, “Well, yes, I sent them both upstairs to talk about their books and other such stuff. They were too loud down here with all their... chatter.” Just as she finished talking, both you and Eloise hurtled around the corner and into the sitting room, in which the whole family was sitting.
Eloise quickly - and loudly - voiced her objections to whatever accusations she had been picturing her sister making, “Mother, whatever Hyacinth has just said... she is lying. She is withholding the truth from you, as she often does, and-”
Hyacinth’s nostrils flared slightly in annoyance, “I do not!” She interrupted, frowning over at her sister, who quickly (and childlishly) responded right back.
“Do too!”
“Eloise, be kind to your sister.” Lady Violet quickly put her hands up to signal for the two sisters to stop talking and to find some kind of peace, “Besides, she has said nothing but that the two of you were talking.” She shrugged and began to turn back to the rest of the family but Hyacinth piped up again, more confusion and irritation lacing her voice this time.
You quietly and quickly prayed to any deity listening that Hyacinth’s words wouldn’t be utterly discriminating, you still had a chance to wriggle your way out of any current accusations.
“No, I don’t mean talking.” Hyacinth rolled her eyes and her cheeks turned red, “Mama, you must believe me. They were... together!”
Violet let out a deep breath and shrugged apologetically, “Darling, I do not know what you mean.”
You clear your throat and try to shrug nonchalantly, but ends up an awkward flail, “No one does- I mean, it’s fine. Let us all go back to what we were doing, how about that?” You try to move the conversation on - desperately, you must admit.
Simon raises an eyebrow and tilts his head ever so slightly at you, you blush and shake your head. This immediately causes a smirk to break out on his lips, which he clearly does his best to suppress or to hide but this just brings Daphne’s attention to him. You are sure your blush is a permanent feature now.
“Hyacinth, you always cause such a rush and a chaos, running down here to announce nonsense. What do you mean ‘they are together’?” Daphne herself chooses to chime in, frowning at Simon with a questioning glint in her eye.
Eloise lets out a breathy chuckle and shakes her head, “I rather think she means nothing, so-”
Anthony sighed deeply and in an over-exaggerated manner, leaning his head on his palm before snapping, “No more breath need be wasted on this subject. They were together, so what?” He shrugged, clearly bored of the conversation and fuss, and dropped his hands to his knees.
Eloise brightened up and gestured towards him as she looked and nodded to the rest of her family and then focused her gaze back to Anthony, “Well said, brother!” 
“Eloise!” Colin gasped and you did all you could to suppress a groan of disbelief. Anthony immediately straightened in his seat, a fresh interest lighting up his eyes.
“What?” She looked to you with slight alarm, sensing she had done something wrong.
“Agreeing so vehemently with Anthony? I never thought I’d see the day!” Colin leant forward, looking between Anthony and Eloise. He shrugged, raising an eyebrow, “Well, if my suspicions weren’t first raised by Hyacinth screaming the house down - now they well and truly are.” 
Eloise took a deep breath in and shuffled her feet slifghtly before rolling her eyes, “Sometimes... I occasionally might agree with what he has to say.” She folded her arms tightly across her chest, staring defiantly at Colin.
“No, you don’t.” Anthony challenged, bringing everyone’s attention back to him.
Eloise frowned and gritted her teeth, “Yes, I do.”
He let out a scoff, “No, I am sure that you do not.” 
“I simply insist that I do!” 
You let out a small sigh and sunk down into the armchair next to Simon and Daphne. Simon sent you a glance that, at first one may think was sympathetic, but, upon further inspection, showed he was clearly enjoying your public annihilation. You just glared at him, which made him simply smile. Infuriating man.
Colin stood up between the two of them and gestured to Eloise, “Now look! You can’t even agree as to whether you agree.”
“So, what, pray tell, is going on?” Daphne raised an eyebrow, glancing between you and Simon and clearly clocking the looks you were giving one another.
You reluctantly cleared your throat, deciding now was a good time to take the heat off from Eloise who was clearly struggling, “I promise, nothing untoward is happening here. We were just playing games, weren’t we H?” You smiled over at Hyacinth, begging her with your eyes to just go along with it.
Hyacinth’s eyes lit up, “Like Daph, and the Duke!” You audibly groaned this time. This kid would not take any hints.
VIolet hesitated, her eyes flitting from one daughter to the next, Hyacinth to Daphne to Eloise, before letting out a confused- “What?”
“They were together... like them!” Hyacinth looked slightly triumphant as she pointed across to Simon and Daphne.
Simon raised an eyebrow and shook his head before muttering under his breath, “Oh, no. Please don’t drag us into this.” You wanted to turn to him and stick your tongue out, but realised that was probably not the best move to play in this very moment.
“Well, I rather think we should let the two in question answer us.” Daphne stared pointedly at the two of you. 
“Here, here!” Simon quickly chimed in, wearing another annoying smirk on his face as he looked at you.
You were about to attempt to protest but as you opened your mouth Eloise defiantly piped up, “Fine.” She shrugged, as nonchalant as she could be.
“What?” You asked in a low voice with a bit of urgency, looking up at where she was standing above you.
You locked eyes and she nodded, clearly trying to convey a message (of which you had  speaking slowly. “Y/N and I were...” She hesitated and you started to panic, knowing you had to come up with something in order to save her.
“Arguing.” Eloise said at the exact same time as you interjected with- “Dancing.”
Eloise swirled back around to look at you, “Dancing? Why in the heavens would we be dancing?” She all but hissed and you looked at her with equal confusion.
“Your sister and her husband dance together... I don’t know?” You rolled your eyes before gesturing at her as you stood up, “Better, in my lowly opinion, than arguing.” 
“I had a plan! If you just let me say it then we would be fine right now.” She lowered her voice - as if that would stop everyone (who all had their eyes glued to the pair of you) from hearing your conversation.
You shook your head, “Eloise, you were floundering!” 
“I was not.” El all but stomped her foot, “I was... pausing for dramatic effect.”
“No, you always do that long pause whenever you are moments away from coming up with a lie. Everyone knows that!” Your voice rose slightly and you gestured to everyone in the room. In your peripheral vision, you could see Daphne raise her eyebrows before nodding. Even if you couldn’t keep the two of you a secret any longer, at least you had the vindication of winning that single point.
You watched as Eloise tried to come up with a rebuttal but, as already established, you were clearly correct. You grinned at her, utterly triumphant, and she just sighed before fondly rolling her eyes and letting her own smile mirror your own.
A clearing of the throat broke the brief silence and Colin’s voice soon followed, “It doesn’t take a genius to understand that the two of you are clearly lying but... really, Y/N? I mean, I must agree. Dancing? Eloise doesn’t dance lest she makes Mother believe she wants to be married off to the unlucky suitor.”
Eloise quickly shifted her glance to Colin and frowned, “I dance.” She insisted at the same time as you moodily grumbled out, “We dance.” and sat back down. To which Colin simply raised an eyebrow and opened his palms.
“Well, in that case, maybe Mother should marry her off to you.” He said and, seconds later, his gaze shifted to one of understanding. He went to open his mouth and shut it moments later.
Hyacinth let out a loud, frustrated sigh and pointed at Colin, “That’s my point! They were behaving like they’re married!”
“Right... I see.” Violet sat up stiffer in her chair and glanced down at her entwined hands before looking up to her daughter, “Hyacinth, go to your room.”
“But-”
Hyacinth went to protest but was quickly shut down with a steely one word response from her mother - “Go.” Reluctantly (and rather sulkily), she retreated out of the family room and stomped up every single stair before shutting the door to her bedroom rather loudly.
Throughout this, Violet’s eyes restlessly moved from her hands, to Eloise, and back, before eventually landing on Eloise completely. “Now, Eloise, I will only ask you this once. Were you- What was it that the two of you were... Tell me what Hyacinth means by...” Her mother danced around the subject, her hands working at the fabric of her dress, until Daphne sighed loudly and moved her body to sit facing Eloise.
“Mother remains to lack a certain skill of talking directly about... certain things. May I ask instead... are the two of you fucking?” She kept eye contact the whole time, hardly reacting as her mother physcially flinched and gasped, her cheeks turning rosy.
“Daphne!” Violet spoke, aghast.
Daphne eventually turned to her mother, “What? You cannot dilly-dally around with such a subject.” She shrugged and turned back to the two of you.
“I... yes. I guess perhaps... that is what I was getting around to in a way.” Violet’s gaze evetually settled on the two of you as well. 
You knew this direct line of questioning (and outing by Eloise’s sister) was going to be slightly harder to avoid than previously. And even then you hadn’t managed to do a convincing job of it. Still, the two of you bravely (stupidly) fought on.
Eloise vehemently shook her head, “I- no! We don’t...” She put her hand on your shoulder, which would normlly be soothing, but you pushed it off, hoping no one saw (they clearly did). “I mean we weren’t-”
You squirmed in your seat slightly. Explaining your relationship with El’s family was not what you had planned for the day, “What Eloise is trying to say is-” Eloise shook her hand at you, trying to forge on with her own sentence.
“To say ‘fucking’ is too-”
Your eyes widened at the way in which this conversation seemed to be going, “Eloise!” You cut her off, cheeks ablaze.
She looked across to you with innocent eyes, “What! I-”
Before she could land you in it even more, you tried to steer this into safer territory - desperate not to have to talk about sex in front of Eloise’s family, “Okay, listen-”
Again, Eloise managed to charge on. You slumped back in your chair, exhausted from trying to keep Eloise under control and away from the topic of fucking, “You know, I find it very interesting that... pleasuring a woman is deemed purely a male pastime and not-”
You let out a groan of frustration and sighed, taking hold of Eloise’s hand and squeezing softly, “El, my love, not the time.” She kept hold of your hand and turned to you. You took this as an opportunity to actually talk, “She meant we were not doing anything of the... sort. We would not even perchance dream of-”
Before you could finish your sentence, yet another Bridgerton was interrupting you. You involuntarily squeezed Eloise’s hand, tense at having to fight off more allegations, “They definitely are... surely. Look at them.” Daphne spoke.
You looked around the room. To Simon, who looked in pain at how much he was having to hold in a laugh. Daphne, who looked victorious. Colin, who still had an annoying, clever (but not unkind) smirk on his face. Anthony, who - in all honestly - couldn’t look much more like he was living a nightmare - perhaps tortured was the word. He was probably not feeling up to dealing with yet another Bridgerton scandal or another duel at dawn (which, for the record, neither were you). And Violet, who had started to return to a more normal colouring in her face, was looking slightly more relaxed - although you still couldn’t really read the woman.
Then... Eloise, who, since you had interrupted her, had been gazing at you. You were fools to believe that you could keep this under wraps. You finally saw her as if you were looking from the outside in and she had the most ridiculous, overpowering, gorgeous love-eyes you had ever seen. You melted in your chair slightly. You’d do anything to not have to give this up.
Eloise squeezed your hand gently and enveloped you in a hug as she was still standing and as you were still sitting, squeezing you into her side. She took a step back and held out both her hands. You hesitated but nodded, slipping your hands into hers.
With her gaze holding yours she nodded, “Yes, fine, we’re fucking.”
“Eloise!” You gasped, letting go of her hands and swatting at her head. She let out a laugh as she ducked away from you. Simon, next to you, finally let out the laugh he had been holding and Daphne quickly joined in. You turned to them, with red cheeks once more, “It’s not funny! Eloise, you’re being crass. And an ass. And anything else that rhymes!”
“I’m just answering the question I was given!” She grinned cheekily, stepping close enough to tempt another attempt at a hit from you, before dodging it just in time and letting out another laugh. You couldn’t help but start to grin at the absurdity of the situations, Eloise laughing wildly as she jumped around you, Simon shaking with laughter next to you. Even Anthony may have let out a small laugh. Maybe.
“Okay, stop, everyone.” Violet’s voice interrupted the slight moment of insanity, “How long has this been going on for?”
Eloise, still slightly puffed out from dodging your attacks, shrugged the question off, “Mother, it’s not-”
“How long?” Violet’s eyes were steely as she raised an eyebrow, tutting when Eloise let the silence stretch on a bit too long.
“Perhaps just a handful of months? Two? Or three. Maybe four?” Eloise’s smile shrank with every word.
“Under my roof?”
You slid back into your seat and quietly mumbled, “Under many a roof, in all fairness.” Although Violet had clearly heard as she frowned.
“What is this?” She asked gesturing between the two of you.
“What do you mean?” Eloise asked, stubborn as always, pushing her mother further than perhaps necessary.
Violet sighed and her eyes raised to the ceiling, “Eloise? Is this just your way of rebelling away from what is expected? From society? From me?” She asked, eyes landing back to Eloise.
“Mother-”
You wished you could bring back the laughter from moments ago. You gritted your teeth, annoyed at the woman you practically saw as your own mother. You hadn’t planned on telling anyone. Really you were going to try to live your whole lives together without anyone finding out. Which, in retrospect, had seemed a bit foolish. But you had hoped that Violet, and the Bridgerton family, of all people would be slightly more free-minded than this.
You stood up, putting yourself between Eloise and Violet, “This isn’t a rebellion.” You huffed out, angrily and frowned at Violet to really prove the point that you were angry at her. As the silence drew on and Eloise didn’t voice her approval of your input, you started to doubt yourself. You slowly turned to Eloise, eyes soft with sudden worry and feeling of self-consciousness, “Is it?”
“Of course not.” She frowned in dismay, shaking her head as she held your chin in her hands for a few moments. She then moved forward so she was shoulder to shoulder with you, “Mother, I- I don’t work to society’s rules. I’m not... it’s not my fault. It’s just me.” 
This was it. This was the make or break. You took in a deep breath and interlinked your fingers with Eloise’s. Stronger together. “El-” You whispered, your heart hammering. Violet had to accept you. She had to.
Violet’s voice came out slightly wobbly, “Eloise, of course it’s not your fault, you just-”
Before Violet could say anything more Eloise interjected, “I love her, I do. I love Y/N. Like you loved Father.” She sniffled slightly. You took a long sideways look at her and squeezed your eyes shut. Come on Violet. “I remember watching and wanting and yearning for what you had, ever since I was young. And I couldn’t understand why I could not even fathom that with any man in the ton. I haven’t known who I am. But I have that with Y/N, I do. You cannot blame me for finding that kind of love with her just because she is not a man, please.” Eloise’s eyes became glossy. You had to give it to her, she always pulled out a good speech. Well... not always actually. But this one was a good one. You squeezed her hand and didn’t stop until Violet answered.
“No, Eloise, I would never.”
“I know it may not seem right to many, but it’s... it’s not my fault... it’s who I am.” Eloise trembled slightly. Violet was on her feet before you knew it.
”Oh, my Eloise.” She herself had watery eyes. You could breathe a bit more easily as she swooped forward and brought Eloise into her arms. You let go of Eloise’s hand to let her wrap her hands around her mother’s waist. After a few moments, Violet pulled back, “Look at me. I know who you are. You’re a Bridgerton. You are one of the strongest people I have ever known. You are not at fault. How could you be when there is nothing to be at fault for?”
“You really think so?” Eloise asked.
Violet held both of Eloise’s clasped in her own, “Of course I do. A love like mine and your father’s, a love like yours, is rare so you have to hold onto it, yes?”
“I will.”
“Come here,” She hugged her again. “You too, Miss Y/L/N. Y/N.” She smiled at you and your face broke into a broad grin as she enveloped you into the hug too. You knew you could rely on her, always. Even if it took a little bit of time. “The two of you deserve the world.”
From the middle of the hug, you heard a soft clearing of a throat and Anthony once again piping up, “I don’t suppose you’ll be providing a dowry?”
Eloise pulled away from the hug, wiping at the tears grouping at the corner of her eyes, “Oh, shove off, Anthony.” She let out a half laugh and a half sob.
“I jest!” He grinned, “Unless...?” He turned to you, raising an eyebrow, a twinkle in his eye.
“I’m sure I have a few pennies to my name.” You smiled and Eloise’s arms circled your waist from behind.
“And I love her for more than just those few pennies!” She shouted over your shoulder, pulling you into her front.
Anthony put a hand on your shoulder and ruffled Eloise’s hair, “I am happy for you.” He finally admitted, a brotherly pride shining in his eyes.
You shifted away, letting Eloise and Anthony have a brief sweet moment (before one of them made a biting remark and it turned to hostility again). You decided to reclaim your seat next to Simon, who, with something akin to brotherly pride, put his arm around your shoulder.
“And I thought Daph and I caused quite the stir.” He grinned, bringing his arm back around to his side.
“Don’t, I’m embarrassed enough as it is.” You wriggled deeper into the settee, willing yourself to forget the majority of the embarrassing things that has just happened. The two of you watched as the present members of the Bridgerton clan all talked at the same time, spitting out jokes and jostling at one another.
Simon followed your gaze to Eloise and let out a deep chuckle, “You’re a rake!” He exclaimed.
You gasped in fake outrage and turned to him, “I am not!” You protested, a smile forming as he continued to laugh and elbow you in the ribs.
“You so are! Worse than me, you rascal.” He smiled, his own gaze settling on his wife, who was tormenting Eloise with ‘girl talk’.
“Stop! I’ve heard the stories of you and Daph. You’ve out-rascaled me ten times over!” You smirked.
He shook his head, “The big rake competition of 1815.” He hummed. You smiled as Eloise came to join you, making you squeeze up to fit herself next to you, as well as letting Daphne fit in her original seat.
As silence descended and everyone started to calm, Violet let out a contended sigh and leant back in her chair, her eyes turning to the settee the four of you were currently squabbling over, “I must say, I’m quite good at this love matching malarkey, aren’t I?” She asked. Everyone immediately stilled and there was a heavy pause before the noise began again.
Anthony raised an eyebrow, “Well, I wouldn’t say that you-”
Daphne let out an exasperated, “Mother!”
Eloise snorted, “You have done nothing to help our love matches!” 
Colin sighed and shook his head, “God help the rest of us...”
Violet decided to ignore all her children and smiled serenely. And at that moment the doors swung open.
“Good afternoon one, good afternoon all, how are we?” Benedict swanned in, immediately clocked a plate of biscuits and helped himself, taking the whole plate in his hands. He munched for a few moments before looking around for an answer. When he didn’t get one from anyone he smiled, “What?” He finished his mouthful and wiped his hand clean before going for another biscuit anyway, “Well, have I missed something?”
There was another long pause before Violet almost burst with the answer, “Y/N and Eloise are together.”
Benedict’s eyes swerved to the two of you, practically sitting in each other’s laps in order to fit on the settee together. He paused before nodding and gesturing in your direction, “Yes, I can see that.”
Violet smiled and shook her head, leaning forward in excitement, “No, like, together together.”
The crease in Benedict’s forehead deepened as he glanced at you again, “Yes... as I say, I can see that quite clearly.” He let out a small laugh, looking around to see if there was some joke he was missing. “Is everyone okay?”
“Oh for goodness sake, can no one in this family communicate properly and succintly?” Daphne fumed, “They are fucking.” 
“Daphne!” You groaned, having prayed that this day couldn’t get more embarrassing for you. And yet there was still more embarrassment to bloody experience. This family was torture (you still would do anything to keep them in your life though, that was clear).
“Okay, can we stop with the crude language?” Violet cast a look to Daphne, before looking at the two of you again with pride, “They are lovers.”
You felt Eloise recoil next to you, “Gross, Mother, no.” She shook her head and only stopped when she saw you looking at her with a raised eyebrow. “What? I mean, I love you but- lovers? Really?”
“Sorry, that’s the big news?” Benedict’s laughed again and his smile grew as he whirled around to look at his whole family again before shaking his head, “Well, obviously! These two are the least subtle ‘lovers’ in the whole bloody world.” 
“Again, with the ‘lovers’.” Eloise muttered next to you.
You smiled and whispered back to her, “Shut up, you love me.” She squeezed your thigh quickly in answer.
“Does anyone actually pay attention to what goes on in this house?” Benedict walked over to the settee you were occupying and leant his elbow on the back of it, taking another biscuit and spreading crumbs as he went.
“Well, I thought we did a splendid job.” Eloise shrugged, removing her hand from your leg and crossing her arms over her chest.
Benedict shook his head, “I’ve seen you kiss at least seven times.”
“You’re counting?” You quirked an eyebrow up, teasing him as he threw his head back to laugh.
“No!” He protested, “I simply mean-”
You jumped up, ready to be the teaser rather than the teased, and grabbed a biscuit of his plate, “Do you keep a little notebook of each time we encounter one another?” You grinned, now finally the one who gets to revel in someone else’s embarrassment.
Eloise snorted, “Dear diary, Eloise and Y/N held hands for seven minutes and forty-two seconds today-”
“Leave me be.” Benedict rolled his eyes good-naturedly and swatted at Eloise as he started to walk away, back out of the family room.
You followed him, taking another biscuit, and continuing Eloise’s joke, “They kissed twice but one was simply a kiss upon the cheek so cannot be counted-”
“And here i was going to offer to be your beard.” He grunted. The rest of the family stayed seated, listening to your conversation.
Your laugh ringed out, “Total kiss-count to date: three.” You mimicked his voice.
“Now that you are essentially a sibling, I am not afraid to kick you down the stairs, you know.” Benedict’s muffled voice came from the bottom of the stairs. Your voices got quieter as you walked to the dining room and Violet looked around the room, smiling brilliantly.
“How marvellous. The family grows!” She winked at Eloise who sighed and left the room, not wanting to be without you now. Violet watched her go and hummed before turning to the rest with a frown, “What is a ‘beard’?”
Anthony took in a deep breath and quickly stood to his feet, “I think dinner is ready.” He cleared his throat and walked out, leaving the rest to slowly join him, and the three of you, at the table.
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bunnywanted · 10 months
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i was thinking about how i’d love to sit you in my lap and get you all worked up - your back leaning against me, my left hand wrapped around your throat while the right’s busy groping at your tits. covering the side of your neck in hungry kisses and licks, trailing them behind your ear and down your jaw, my lips and tongue against yours once i start stroking your cunt so i can feel you moan into my mouth. fingers playing with your pretty pussy for what feels like hours with no end in sight because every time i start to rub a little faster and a little tighter, once your head drops back against my shoulder and you start moaning into my neck and bucking your hips - grinding your ass against the bulge in my pants, i stop.
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wandagcre · 6 months
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it's a trap (when you act like that) | wanda maximoff 🔞
(College!Perv!Best friend Wanda Maximoff x Innocent!Fem Reader)
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You cannot quite relate to the topic of pleasure. Being introverted and shy, your circle of people was limited, but you're more than grateful that Wanda - your best friend - is always there to help you out.
WARNING: corruption kink, pillow riding, first times, fingering, praise, wanda talking you through it - not proofread +18 / men & minors dni. Words: 4.2k
[perv!wanda series] | [masterlist]
For an hour, you settled on reading in comfortable silence with your best friend. Wanda laid on your lap comfortably, unlike you, she gave up skimming on her notes a few minutes ago. 
You giggle each time you catch her gaze on you. It was inquisitive and sometimes Wanda made silly faces. Thoughtful as ever, she’d pop in some candy in your mouth.
Her auburn hair grew out – instead, her brunette tresses were back. It was tempting for you the way they were sprawled out, wanting to comb them with your fingers and drop your notes – only having to listen to what stories your best friend would tell.
Lately, you noticed it’s been hard to be around Wanda. You can no longer hold her gaze than usual and you physically want to be closer to her – which was no problem because your best friend was always attentive and touchy with you. 
“Have you been working out? Look at these thighs,” You sharply inhaled as you felt fingertips, running feather-like on your skin. Wanda caught the act and it made her giggle softly. 
You shyly shook your head. “N-no. I haven’t.” 
She seemed not to buy your response. It’s the truth. Even if you indulged in some exercises, your workout routine was not strict about any type of weight lifting. Not like you had the time and all. In fact, it was one of the things that sometimes pulled you into your insecure thoughts, thinking that you’ve got an unattractive pair.
However, Wanda loves them as they were. She liked it when you got experimental with your wardrobe, changing it up with some short skirts that highlighted your legs and its curves. More so with your comfort in plain shorts, as it rewarded your best friend more of its exposure.
What Wanda didn’t like was winter and how it took away the sight of your gorgeous thighs. 
You insisted, “I’m serious! If you consider getting food from the top and bottom shelf of the fridge as squatting, then, my answer is yes.”
“Well, they look good to me. Keep it up.” Wanda playfully remarked. You chuckled lightly, not trusting your voice at the moment. “Want me to pull away?” 
Her voice was hypnotizing – insanely soothing. Almost like a balm, you’d say. Enough to make you re-read the damn sentence on your notes because you barely understood them. It doesn’t help that she kept her ministrations – tracing circular patterns that ascend to your inner thighs, causing goosebumps to wake.
“Took me by surprise, that's all. You can keep doing that if you want.”
“Is it relaxing?” Wanda whispered.
You shudder a bit and it made you scuffle in your position. “Kinda like you playing with my hair…”
Wanda was amused. You briefly wondered what was the joy in this – riling you up in some way. Were your reactions too entertaining? She had always been full of mischief, but lately, hanging out with your best friend made you…tense. It was not uncomfortable in a way that her actions burned, maybe they did, but in a different context. A realm you’ve never touched on – spurring you to confusion furthermore.
Her forefinger grazed over the space between your eyebrows. “What’s got you all so worked up, honey? You got this crease going on – you’re too tense. Wanna take a break?”
“Okay, yeah. That sounds nice.” You gave in. You couldn’t even process them anyway. 
You still appeared as bothered from Wanda’s point of view. She moved away from laying down between your thighs, looking at you who refused to meet her eyes. She was growing concerned. Had she overstepped this time?
Wanda was clueless. “Are you seeing someone?”
You looked incredulously at the woman.
“That’s out of the blue, Wands.”
“Can’t blame a girl for asking, (y/n/n). You’re usually reserved, I get that, but lately you seem to be always in deep thought? You know I can help, right?”
“I-I want to tell you but it can get weird.”
“Weird? Baby, we’ve known each other for years. How worse can it possibly get?” Wanda asked incredulously. Now she was concerned.
There’s nothing to hide. Wanda had a point, you thought. 
You whisper, “Lately, um. I-I’ve been trying to discover something.”
“Okay…” Wanda hummed, eyes focused on your lips.
You weren’t hesitant out of fear of being judged, but you didn’t know where your boundaries stood. 
Although, you remember how Wanda was so thoughtful that every time you bought some undies, she volunteers to come along and when you ask for her opinion, she carefully takes time to examine them. 
You remember her fingers tracing along the seams, making you turn around, asking for permission to touch so she can examine the material further around your butt and how it clung to your hips. They shouldn’t be tight, Wanda said.
“And it’s about pleasure. You know, that stuff.” You flail your hands. Can this get more embarrassing?
Meanwhile, Wanda was absolutely having the time of her life. She couldn't believe that this was happening. Of course, as the role of best friend, she would be very ecstatic to lead you.
She starts with a lilt of teasing in voice. “Sorry, honey, but there’s many things that can go around the topic of pleasure. I’m going to need you to elaborate.”
Poor you, didn’t even catch up to her teasing. You had enough.
“Touching the southern part!” You blurt out.
“Oh!”
“Yeah,”
“Huh.” Wanda looked inquisitive. Her head tilted to the side in faux wonder. In truth, she was thinking of ways to help you – defile you in this very bed – if she’s sly enough.
You groaned. Maybe this was a bad idea. 
“See, now it’s weird. I shouldn’t have-”
“No, no. It’s not weird. In fact, it’s normal to be curious about that. What’s your problem with it?”
“I don’t think I’m doing it right. I feel bad because I heard discussions about it – overheard some girls from my class. It’s all the hype I can’t get onto– I just don’t seem to get there–” 
You were rambling all things at once. Wanda had to process the thought of you touching yourself and getting frustrated, of course you wouldn’t know. You needed her – someone to get through it.
And Wanda was more than willing to step up.
With a glint in her eye, she suggests, “Want me to help you?”
Were you hearing things right? Surely, you misheard Wanda. Your mind couldn’t wrap the thought of it. How on earth can she help you? Maybe she’ll write them down or give you a video that wasn’t too explicit as porn. She knew that you hated them, after all. 
“You–won’t that be weird between us? And how?”
“Don’t even think about that. It’s me, honey. You can always count on me. Even about these types of situations. Do you trust me?”
You answered in a heartbeat. “More than anyone.”
“Good. What do you think, do you wanna get started?”
Right now? Your eyes widened. But there won’t be another time, you suppose. “Shit. Okay, yeah, sure.”
“We’ll take things slow, hm?” She bit her lip, trying to contain her excitement. Seeing you all bare for her – Wanda might as well cum at the mere thought of it. The way you nodded attentively made her stomach flip. “We’re going to test the waters. Since you’re having trouble with your fingers, we can do that later. Maybe we’ll try a different approach.”
Your cheeks burned at Wanda’s elaborate plan. “O-okay. I’ll listen to you.”
Wanda purses her lips and moves closer to you. You looked apprehensive, but not as much previously. Good.
“Have you ever heard about riding a pillow?”
“N-no…” You meekly answered. Porn was straight to the point. Too uncomfortable for your liking. It was penetration and done. You tried watching one or two, then that was it – you never thought about revisiting and looking further beyond that. “That’s a thing?”
Wanda, however, couldn’t help but scoot closer to you. How she was very elated to hear this – the woman couldn’t wait to introduce more things to you in the future, to be the one showing you the ropes of it.
“Yes it is. Some find it very rewarding. It’s so easy. ” She supplements.
Out of curiosity, you cannot filter yourself. “What about you… have you ever?”
“Yeah, I have.” She smoothly replied. Wanda was so self-assured, you can’t help but envy it a little. “And don’t worry, I’ll be guiding you at every step of the way, honey. Exploration of what you like and how it works is nothing to be ashamed of.”
It did the trick for you; Wanda picked up a relief sigh coming out of you. She smiled, rubbing your thighs enough to create a comfortable warmth.
“Use my pillow – don’t worry, it’s easy to get them washed.” Your movements were slow and hesitant, continuously looking back and forth to Wanda’s piercing green eyes and to her pillow innocently hanging at the corner of her bed. Grabbing the item, she shoots you a proud smile. “Now, take your bottoms off for me.” 
For Wanda. You felt the heat creep from your stomach, riding in waves, up to your neck and whole face. She nudges you by nodding her head. You’re entirely sure that you’re beyond stunned right now. Discarding your shorts and underwear at the same time, you quickly throw them away and cross your thighs. Wanda’s words being uttered in an authoritative and raunchy manner was enough to make you wet – you didn’t want her to see the proof of that.
“So good. You’re doing so, so well baby.” Wanda licked her bottom lip in anticipation. “Now, flip that pillow by its seams – the edges are an important part of this. Then, just mount it.”
Your heart raced – you can’t believe that this was happening – you’re about to ride a pillow in front of your attractive best friend and she’ll talk you through your first orgasm. Right here in her own cramped bed and pillow. Doing as Wanda says, you spread your legs apart and mounted the pillow that stood by its edges. You gasped at the sensation; it was the softest thing your core has ever touched and it was slightly cold.
Looking back at Wanda, she seemed lost in your center – who wouldn’t be, given this rare opportunity? She always had a crush on you. But you didn’t even notice. Now, your friendship was taken on the next level, she thanked any deity out there for her patience. ((And her power over you right now? It was hard not to revel in that.))
You looked so adorable. Wanda could compare you to bambi right now, especially when you thought you were being sly. She saw the slick forming on your pussy from earlier as you were stripping. It was mouthwatering that it drove Wanda insane, prickling through each nerve of her body.
“What next?” You shakily asked. It was intimidating to have her eyes fixated on you – you couldn’t decipher what was going on behind those green eyes.
“Gyrate your hips. Back and forth, slowly.” Wanda orders with a low voice.
She watches you try to move back and forth at the pillow. Your pussy grazed on the fabric, making your eyes flutter at each soft contact, but it wasn’t enough for your pleasure nor Wanda’s.
She waddled closer and placed her hands firm on your hips. You bite the inside of your cheek, slowing down your motion out of surprise. The least you can do was have an ounce of dignity, you couldn’t moan in front of Wanda.
You sweet thing, Wanda thought. It was evident how desperate you were in your soft and messy thrusts. She was focused on how you moved your hips clumsily and your folds wetter, the pillow darkening as your arousal stained them.
She couldn’t take it much longer.
“You’re almost bouncing, honey. Do it like this – in sliding motions.” A moan inevitably escaped your lips as she pushed your hips alone, quite literally guiding you. Wanda shuddered in delight. “Want that pretty pussy of yours gliding in, get that friction working already. Don’t be afraid to put all of your weight in it. It’s much better, trust me (y/n/n).”
Pretty? Wanda even used it in an inappropriate context. It affected you more than you thought it would, that you felt a spurt of liquid drip from your core. Was it supposed to be like this? It was better than previously. Maybe it was truly your form that made a better change. You thrust your hips more and no longer hesitated upon resting your lower body’s weight. 
It was much better, just like Wanda had said.
Wanda’s bed creaked louder and louder. Of course, you were getting lost in your own needs – you didn’t even notice.
Your resolve was visibly breaking in front of Wanda which she absolutely relished on.
“Don’t let me stop you from moaning, baby. It’s all about your pleasure.” Wanda gently reassured you. It was all you needed apparently to let loose. “Thrust your hips harder.” She commands you. It sparked more need that travelled to your lower stomach down to your core. 
Was this the feeling people always blabbered about? Because you’re sure that you understood it now. It completely took over your senses like crazy.
Your hands placed in front for balance, you do as your best friend said. She truly knows her way around here. You haven’t felt this needy before. The friction she mentioned was settling in quickly and it was addicting against your pussy. You close your eyes and arch your back. The softness soon burned – a delicious contradiction – and it was enough to make you feel soaked.
“Just like that…” Her hips have never left yours and matched the rough sliding motions, grasping firm around your bare skin. “It feels good, doesn’t it? You’re doing so great.” For me, Wanda wanted to add.
“M-mm, y-yes,” You whimpered and nodded dumbly. 
“You can also experiment with other motions – try what’s best for you. You can do circles with your hips,”
You immediately try as she recommended. Wanda had to stifle a giggle right then and there. Her headboard was starting to hit against the wall with your messy yet hard thrusts. It was obvious that the pleasure was brewing already, to which Wanda deviously smiled at. 
“Can I touch you down there? I bet it’s sticky already…” She whispered directly to your ear. You feel your best friend’s hot-white breath grazing satisfactory against your neck. It tickles! 
It wouldn’t hurt right? It was a part of the lesson, you suppose. Wanda knew better and you trusted her. “Y-yes. You can touch me, Wands.”
Without further ado, your best friend immediately went in to trace your outer folds. Fuck, you were so wet. You immediately coated her fingers, terribly addicting that she had to stop herself from plunging in so suddenly.
You continued to gyrate harder and it seems that there was the ‘spot’ that everyone was talking about. You lost track of it, but you felt how the pleasure intensified and moaned unadulteratedly, louder than before, that spurred Wanda to repeat the motion harder. With every glide against the pillow that you do, Wanda’s fingers were there at the edge to stimulate your throbbing core. Your breathing pattern grew heaving.
It was so, so addicting to have your slit pressed against the once innocent material and the friction it provided you–
“Stop there,” Wanda firmly said. You halt out of concern, rethinking whether you did something wrong. Your best friend, however, was pleased at your expression. 
“D-Did I do something wrong?” You gulped and weakly asked.
“No, honey. You did so well.” Wanda caressed your jaw and held you by the cheek with her clean hand. A pleased grin broke out of you to which Wanda duly noted. You liked praises. “That was the first lesson. You need something to stimulate you into the mood, it is very important. Now I’ll touch you first so you can mimic them later on. Is that okay?” Her hands descend to trail them at the center of your torso and stopped by the pelvic area.
This was going so well. You even forgot and thought how dumb it was to doubt Wanda and how she would embarrass you. It felt as though it was more than what you asked of her.
You wet your lips, “M-more than okay.” 
At this point, you valued Wanda's opinion more than ever.
“Good girl. We’ll get started.”
She swept away the crumpling notes and the stained pillow. Wanda almost moaned at the mere sight. It was like an animal had rudely rammed through her room.
Wanda stared at your half-lidded eyes that beamed at her words. Your hair was frazzled and barely can manage your own breathing. She caused this. And hell, she can’t wait to ravish you further. You felt reassured with her comforting smile and voice leading you on.
Your best friend grabbed you by the thighs to pull you closer to her. Wanda hummed in delight, a crooked smile on her lips appeared as you released a throaty moan again as she pushed them farther apart. 
“Now, listen carefully, (y/n/n). You have to tease your folds first and gather the wetness here,” Wanda sultry uttered and started to stroke your folds again and you helplessly nod. “It’s no trouble right now, considering how soaked you are.” She bit her lip and teased you by bringing up her fingers that were coated by your arousal. “Don’t hide them from me. It’s so pretty to see you like this, honey.” You arched your back for her and became flustered at Wanda’s words.
So warm and inviting. Wanda was flooded with glee, that she swooped in before anyone else could. With this, she also intends to be your last. No way in hell she can share you now after this.
You feel your cheeks and ears grow hot. You buck your hips for more as Wanda starts to stroke vertically and then random patterns at your soaked pussy. It wasn’t enough to scratch the itch you’ve been longing for.
Your nostrils flared, “W-Wands, please..”
Wanda felt herself damp as you moaned her name. It was like music to her ears. She immediately changed your position, from your hips up to encouraging you to lay down flat on her bed and adjusting to settle on your side – her fingers not leaving the inside of your pussy.
“What do you need, baby?” She pressed a kiss on your ear. The gesture was meant to comfort you but you felt your body burning even more.
“I need you! It’s so sticky and tickling me- I don’t… Can you please h-help me?”
You were needy, just as Wanda wanted you to be. She riled you up enough that she even felt you drip more wetness as she plunged deeper inside of you and hit the spongy wall that her fingers could reach. You were more than compliant all throughout the session that it made her heart soar.
“You can also play with your breasts, it can add a better feel for you, baby.” 
You hesitantly reach for your pair and Wanda’s awaiting (needy) eyes were the final nudge for you. You wanted to do good. At this point, the lines were blurred; you didn’t know if it was to achieve orgasm or praise from your best friend.
Hands skimming underneath your shirt, you also pushed up your bra and experimentally squeezed the flesh. You groaned and eyes half-lidded again, threatening to shut.
Wanda was ecstatic that she had convinced you through this. Her motions never faltered – if anything it was more determined – as she watched you play with your tits. She thought it was cute how your underwear mismatched, her eyes caught the sliver of the pale material of your panties and your bra in the color of a colder tone. Were you tugging on your perked nipples? You were so eager and feeling comfortable enough. Wanda almost demanded you to take them off, wanting to see them. Another time.
She kept on stimulating your pussy and with the addition of you playing with your breasts – it was impossible to even control your moans anymore. 
You threw your arms quickly around Wanda’s neck and hands had wrapped themselves on her nape. Opposed to her firm and determined motions, you were gentle with how you caressed her skin. Wanda melted with no hesitation and now, her dorm room was reverberating with moans along you.
“It’s so sticky down here just as you said. Now,” Wanda’s own breathing was ragged and you had to force yourself to listen to her. “I’m going for your clit. It’s in the uppermost area, covered by your hood. Need to stretch you more-” She grabbed your hand and made them trace the areas for you to pinpoint them better. Fuck, Wanda was right. You were soaking wet. “That better?”
You agreed furiously, “Y-Yes, but–”
“I know, I know. You need more.” Wanda kept her ministrations inside of you, stretched you better that you had to let out a guttural moan. The spot was back and she kept hitting it now mercilessly. “Is that it? That feels much better?”
“Oh, yes!”
Your needy core greedily swallowed Wanda’s fingers and you had no idea. So drunk in pleasure. So lost without her. You’re so lucky that you had her. Wanda was just as intoxicated as you, her dilated green eyes drinking up the warmth of your pussy and your writhing sight.
Upon making eye contact, you didn’t know how to react to the revelation of how those green eyes unashamedly looked at you. It was similar as Wanda would when she was examining you while fitting clothes – only now they appeared more hungry and she’ll devour you.
And the thing is that you will gladly let her. Another needy moan was ripped out of you, disturbing your rail of thoughts as Wanda added her thumb to the stimulation that circled around your clit, you laid there helplessly clenching on the bed sheets while you were in Wanda’s grasp.
“W-Wands… Wands! I think I’m going to pee,” You shyly inform the woman and the heel of your palm pressed against her clavicle to push her away, Wanda only shushed you.
It was familiar to you, you think that you’ve reached this extent but you always stopped because you were very unsure of what follows after.
You felt dirty and it was embarrassing how you were bucking your hips to meet Wanda’s plunging in your core. It halted your mood a little and Wanda immediately picked it up, as your walls clenched harder around her digits.
“That’s it, that’s it.” Wanda’s sultry voice spurred your gears again. You huffed and absorbed her words. “Don’t worry about it, you’re going to cum. Just listen to my voice baby, you’re doing so great for me.” It is more than okay, you repeat in your head. Wanda’s making you feel so good you felt like you were going to combust.
Your muscles grew tense around the abdomen area and all over your thighs - you feel the knot forming in there. You are frenzied to chase it.
“Cum for me, come on, my good girl.”
Wanda was sweating now as you were, and she kept ramming inside of your warm walls, a final hard stimulation around your clit did its job to untangle the knot you were feeling. 
“Wanda!” A guttural moan was ripped out of you.
It was the most angelic sound that Wanda has ever heard.
Your eyes were still closed shut. Still whining as you fall apart, it was the most freeing experience you’ve ever encountered. It’s easy to say that you were beyond satisfied this time around. Your body was almost floating and your mind was lightheaded–you’re sure of it. Your legs were spasming a little and it was hard to ignore the vivid feeling of liquid oozing out of your core. It was never ending and Wanda was tempted to drink them all up.
“You looked so beautiful there, honey. I’m proud of you.” She cooed sweetly in your ears and pressed a kiss on your forehead that was glistening with sheer sweat. 
You grew hot at her words. “Oh–!”
The bed shook again and creaked as Wanda rode out your orgasm. The squelching sound was more vivid to your ears. You cried out loud, feeling that it was too much, held your best friend’s wrist and finally Wanda pulled her digits out. Before your best friend can calm you down–
An aggressive banging resounded against Wanda’s dorm walls.
“It’s midterms week! Stop fucking!”
You froze. You completely forgot where you were and how thin the dorm walls were, making you cover your face with your palm. Meanwhile, Wanda couldn’t be more bothered – she simply laughed at how evidently embarrassed you are, threading through her own hair with a familiar glint in her eyes.
“I don’t think I can face the people outside anymore,” You admit, groaning as you sober up from the high. 
Why did you have to be so loud? 
“Mmm. Lucky for you, we’re staying inside for a while. I got some other tricks I wanted to show you.” Wanda bit her lip, crimson also spreading through her cheeks as she closed the gap again between you.
She can compare your gaze to a deer caught in headlights. Always so attentive and compliant.
With a little more touch from your best friend, you felt the hotness starting again in your lower stomach, making it twitch with familiar need – your studying session long forgotten and replaced with a different lesson.
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do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre
3K notes · View notes
sytoran · 1 month
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home is where the heart is ★ n.r
— 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ;; 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐘𝐒 & 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒
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in which your married life with natasha romanoff is depicted through this comedy-drama series. with your dream job, three kids, and a plethora of friends, each day is blissful but all the more chaotic and unpredictable. (and ultimately, very horny.)
pairing ★ sub!wife!natasha x beefy!butch!reader
chapter summary ★ natasha wakes you up with a pleasant surprise, your gremlin kids are the life and death of you, tony stark is annoying, marital sexting is pretty tough, and you're homesick for your wife's pussy.
warnings ★ (MINORS DNI) - explicit content, some pretty heavy kinks: blowjobs, marital sexting, breeding kink, daddy kink, probably more.
word count ★ 3.1k (feeding yall)
SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST
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You slept like the dead.
Or at least you did, on most mornings, oblivious to the waking world in your sweet slumber. 
Today was different, though. There was a distinct feeling of pleasantness swimming in your subconscious, one you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It urged you awake, a certain type of wet heat that insistently tugged and pulled.
It wasn’t until a jolt of arousal shot through you like a nine-millimetre shotgun that you jerked awake with a start.
“Shit!” you gasped, yanking off the blanket from your lower half, to reveal your ethereal wife perpetrating what could only be described as a wet dream.
Natasha’s head was obediently lowered in the midst of sucking your erect shaft, her viridescent gaze trained unto you with a twinkle of mischief. Wandering hands were sheathed under the front of your sweatshirt, painted nails mapping out the expanse of your tensed abdomen. 
“Way to wake me up, baby,” you say breathlessly, a hand flying to the back of Natasha’s head in hopes of speeding up your ever-approaching high. You buck your hips once, effectively propelling your hips further forward, guiding your shaft into your wife’s mouth.
Natasha hums mindlessly, palming at your torso like it was second nature. Her mouth moves languidly, relaxed and slow, tongue trailing over the hefty length of your cock in a teasing manner.
Like the devil incarnate, Natasha’s hand glides a broad stroke from your abs to the base of your cock, and starts working her hand in firm strokes. “Fuck,” you groan, a hand twisting into soft locks of your wife’s hair.
The joint stimulation on the head and base of your cock have you barrelling towards a preordained high at a frighteningly fast pace, and the absolutely criminal way Natasha’s head bobs up and down is no help at all.
“Fuck, baby, m’so close,” you gasp, throwing your head back and letting your eyes slide shut. Your big hand guides Natasha’s head with a certain type of tacit power, unwritten but distinct. Natasha feels herself get wet, and in turn eagerly plunges her mouth down with a renewed vigour.
When Natasha lets out a filthy moan from the back of her throat, stifled by the sheer size of your cock in her mouth, pleasure overwhelms your every sense. 
You groan, hips snapping up for the entirety of your cock to be buried in Natasha’s warm and velvet throat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—”
“Mama! Mommy!” 
The undeniable sound of little feet scampering across the wooden floorboard and down the stairs, unceremoniously hauls you out of your heaven-like ascension. 
Natasha pulls her lips off your cock with a satisfying ‘pop’ sound. “Time to get up, honey,” she says with the arch of her eyebrow, smoothly turning over in practised motion and leaving you hung and sprung.
“Baby,” you whine, pitifully throwing your head back. Your words fall on deaf ears and you grumble and pull up your sweatpants, just in time for the door to swing open and release the incoming wave of chaos.
“MAMA!!” Emilia shrieks, leaping onto the bed with fearsome aggression, her younger twin brother in tow. 
Your five-year olds didn’t let you catch any breaks, Emilio roaring into your ear while dragging his toy pterodactyl across your face. “Rawr! Rawr! Wake up, ma!”
You leap up in a haze of bedsheets and screaming kids, all your previous indiscretions quickly faded at the sight of your bundles of joy. 
Emilia squeals as you easily hoist her up with one arm, the little girl getting thrown into the air. Emilio receives much of the same treatment, getting dangled in the air by one leg.
“Mommy! Save us!” The boy cries out with a delighted grin and a hearty attempt at hitting your side. You swing them around with fake growls that incite laughter and squeals, steering clear of any sharp corners or wayward objects.
Natasha is more preoccupied with hugging your sleepy ten-year old, and cooing softly into her ear. 
Marina is the oldest of your three, quiet and reserved, with brilliance sparkling behind her soft eyes. “Hi, mama,” she greets you with a small smile, and your heart melts a little.
“Hi, darling angel,” you reply with a big grin of your own. “Where’s my morning kiss?”
At the prospect of the feared morning kiss, Emilio yells and wreaks absolute havoc, the toy truck forgotten in favour of escaping your clutches. 
“No mama! No kiss!” Emilia protests, the Russian determination behind her set eyes a splitting image of her mother’s. Emilio is long gone, visibly hidden under your bedside table. 
You hoist Marina up onto your hip, smiling at the sweet kiss she pecks on your cheek. “It’s mommy’s turn now,” you say easily, sliding up to Natasha with a mischievous grin.
“Ew!” Your little girl giggles, hiding behind her hands as you share a chaste kiss with your wife, one that is far too short for your liking. Either way, the morning kiss routine was a success.
The attention in the crowded room is drawn by a simple clap of Natasha’s hands. She stands arms akimbo, rocking her bed hair, sleep still half-written in her eyes — but the whole look is so endearing that you can’t help but fall in love all over again. 
“Okay, kids. Time to get ready for school! Who wants breakfast?”
The cheer that arises from your children is nothing short of pure jubilation. Emilio starts a chant of ‘Frosted Flakes! Frosted Flakes!’ that has them marching in line out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen. 
Natasha laughs, following their trail, but you drag her back expectantly.
With one arm hanging off the top of the doorframe and the other wrapped around her waist, you pull Natasha into that long sought-after kiss. 
“Mhm,” you hum contentedly, inhaling her sweet scent. “I love you.”
Natasha slowly slides her hands up your arms, savouring the kiss. She presses her palms to your cheeks, adoration dancing in her eyes.
“I love you too.”
*****
The Frosted Flakes do not end up on the breakfast table, after all, because Natasha reasons that the kids had eaten it for three breakfasts in a row and their teeth would rot and fall off.
Toast and scrambled eggs, courtesy of your little handiwork in the kitchen, is the eventual outcome. Food is food to a bunch of hungry gremlins, either way, and the breakfast gets scarfed down in no time at all.
“You’re gonna go soon?” Natasha asks you in the kitchen, giggling at your teddy-bear patterned apron. You make a non-committal hum against your wife’s chest, wanting to stay in her arms for an eternity.
“Mama, we have to go to school,” Marina calls from the front porch, the door clicking open. “I need help with my shoe!” Emilio cries out, hopping into the kitchen with a singular shoe. “I got my shoes done on my own!” Emilia chimes in proudly, tugging on her backpack straps.
Natasha laughs, stroking your hair affectionately. “No rest for the wicked,” she says. “Be a responsible parent and send Marina to school, then go to work. The twins’ school bus will be here anytime.”
You exhale with a smile, pulling your wife in for a kiss that is a tad too long. Tugging off the pink apron, you’re glad you already changed into your work attire — a collared white shirt rolled up to your elbows, a grey-patterned tie, and matching slacks.
Natasha looks you up and down approvingly, then her eyes glimmer with an incited flame as she straightens your tie. You definitely don’t miss the way her hands glide smoothly across your chest to straighten out the wrinkles, and you resist the fluttering sensation that blooms under her touch.
“What a handsome young woman,” Natasha comments, tip-toeing to peck your cheek. You smile widely, preening under your wife’s attention. “Only for you,” you reply happily. “I’ll be off, then.”
“Mama, let’s go,” Marina probes, head poking into the kitchen. Her eyes soften at the sight of Natasha, proceeding to wave cutely. “Bye, mommy.”
Like little ducks, your three children follow you out of the house, with their miniature backpacks and shoes. Natasha watches adoringly from the porch, blowing kisses to Emilia when she yells one last “Bye, mommy!”.
Your Audi SQ7 peels out the driveway, engine revving. Marina is looking out the window, humming ‘American Pie’ with a little smile. As your home fades away in the rearview mirror, you think that this life was all you’d ever need.
***
“Fury, tell Tony that not sponsoring the coffee machines in my building is frankly, quite rude behaviour,” you comment, sitting next to the aloof man who’s snacking on a packet of dried fruit. Steve steals bits of the snack when Tony’s not looking, much to Fury’s chagrin.
“I don’t give a fuck,” Tony replies hotly, snatching back the piece of fruit in Steve’s hand. “You literally leaked the photo of me in a maid outfit, for the whole world to see. You know how many sleazy men have slid into my DMs since then? Pepper hasn’t let that go!”
“What, are you mad that the public now knows that Pepper’s the one that does the dicking down?” you retort. “And Steve was one of those ‘sleazy men’!” 
The accused blonde looks away quickly, suddenly very preoccupied with the tiling of the floor. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Steve mumbles.
“That’s enough,” Fury admonishes with an unamused look. “The three of you need to get your shit together. Regardless of whether or not Stark is a bottom, I can’t have the CEOs of my powerhouse companies making a bad name. You know how that reflects on me? Stark Industries, SHIELD, L/N-Corp Worldwide Media: The Desolate Downfall of Nick Fury.”
“Is this because I modelled for the gay sex toy shop company? Because that’s just homophobic,” Steve reasons, folding his arms. “And Bucky liked the advert a lot!”
Tony scoffs, making paper aeroplanes with the papers on Fury’s desk. “We literally bring in millions upon millions for you each year. I’m sure that forgives the one time I was high during Y/N’s media conference. The Minister didn’t even notice! He’s like 82, anyways. Close to your age, Fury.”
“And I’m not sorry for calling the Netflix director a bitch on live TV,” you add in. “They’ve got no reason for cancelling all the sapphic shows left and right! My wife and I were invested in Gentleman Jack, okay?”
Fury sighs, the scene before him a spectacle he was no stranger to by now. 
You, Tony and Steve were the face of the up-and-coming generation of brilliant minds and creative thinking. He supposed your overwhelming success and proved greatness softened the blow of your discrepancies in maintaining an unblemished professional image.
“Moving on,” Fury continues. “I want to talk about Project Eagle. As you should know from last year’s report……”
Just then, your phone vibrates in your pocket, with a notification from Natasha’s contact.
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You, indeed, were hard.
Upon reading Natasha’s last message, you shut your phone off so quickly that Steve turns and raises an eyebrow at you. You clear your throat and shift in your seat, evidently affected.
The heat that surges through your body pays no help in your focus on Fury’s briefing. You can feel the flush creeping on from the back of your neck, spreading down your body and rushing towards the area between your legs.
Natasha, why have you forsaken me? You think helplessly, the noises in the office fading to a low buzz. When your phone vibrates again, your finger clicks on the message before your brain can catch up to you.
The image that Natasha sends you has you choking on absolutely nothing, coughing up air like a woman possessed. 
Lacy red lingerie displaying thick thighs and a soft tummy should not be this breathtaking, but Natasha pulls it off anyway.
Filthy images flit into your mind uncontrollably, searing images like a broken record player. Your dick has a mind of its own, pressing hot and tight against the seam of your pants.
“L/N,” Fury announces, voice booming and hauling you out of your trance. “What seems to be the issue?” 
In the background, Steve and Tony giggle like schoolgirls, knowing all too well what had occurred. You clear your throat again, shoving your phone into your pocket, hopelessly trying to erase the blessed image of your wife from your memory, just for a moment longer.
“No issues here,” you say with a forced smile, fighting demons with your rock-hard erection you’re desperately trying to cover with a report file. “I’m all dandy, sir.”
“Right,” Fury says disbelievingly, his good eye flickering downwards for a fraction of a second. Embarrassment eats you up whole.
“Let’s hope your attention span is just as ‘dandy’.”
***
“Natty,” you pant, with your wife pinned under you, hot and tight inside of her.
“I can’t believe you did that,” you grunt, punctuating each word with a firm thrust of your hips. “Made me so fucking hard at work.”
Following your incident in Fury’s office, you had exhausted every fibre of your willpower not to lock yourself in a bathroom stall and jerk off like a nymphomaniac.
After a gruelling day of work and coming back to a house of sleeping children, you had wasted no time in claiming your stake.
“I’ve been blue balled for twelve hours,” you groan into Natasha’s neck, mouthing at the flushed skin with fervour. “Spare me some sympathy, darling.”
“Oh, my poor baby,” your wife teases, tracing a feather-light hand over your tensed back muscles and clutching at the back of your neck. “You’re so eager, aren’t you?”
“Mhm,” you growl, scraping your sharp teeth over her collarbone, leaving violet imprints at a respectable-enough level. You roll your hips into Natasha’s, drawing relentless waves of pleasure and a rocking motion that has her throwing her head back.
Natasha’s erratic breathing and badly-disguised moans are music to your ears, a sweet symphony you’d been missing all day. You groan as her velvet walls clench tight around you, hot and wet and all-encompassing.
“You feel amazing,” you pant, the clefted tip of your shaft bumping against her cervix with how deep you nest inside of her.
A high-pitched whine sounds from the back of Natasha’s throat, as her legs spasm in the air. “Wanna fuck you senseless, please,” you groan.
“Do it,” she challenges breathily. You lean forward, manhandling her deliciously thick thighs, pressing your wife’s knees to her head.
The arousal that builds in your lower stomach is pure white heat, fueled by the breathless cries of your wife under you. 
“Fuck,” you cry out, reaching new spots you haven’t before. You surge forth, an unstoppable train, drilling your shaft into Natasha’s dripping cunt like it was your only reason for living. Because maybe it was, as you transcend earthly boundaries with her, only her.
Subconsciously, your hands fly to Natasha’s hefty tits, grabbing the shaking mounds. “Y’so pretty, babygirl,” you say, half-drunkenly, high of the white-hot pleasure that Natasha draws out of you. 
She’s untouchable heaven, silky moans and raspy cries, a soft tummy with rolls that you greedily grasp in your hands.
“Daddy,” Natasha cries, crescent nails scratching down your arms, her suspended legs shaking in the air. The airy lilt of your title makes you leak. “Ugh, fuck,” you grunt, pounding her into the bedframe, sweaty and slick.
“Let me come inside, please?” you practically beg, wide eyes transfixed at the area your shaft meets her cunt. Natasha whines breathlessly, a hand moving to clasp at the sheets. “Yeah, I-I’m on the pill.”
That’s all the confirmation you need before pinning Natasha down with spread hands. You shift on the bed as you mount her, skin-to-skin with your shaft fully-lodged inside of your wife. 
Natasha gives you this dizzy look, glazed-over eyes portraying complete submission.
Then you start moving again, and the world explodes in your hands.
“Oh, fuckkk,” you groan, shoving your fingers into Natasha’s mouth to stop her pleasured screams from waking up the whole house.
The speed at which you drive your hips into Natasha’s is downright sinful, smearing slick all over her rounded ass, dripping onto the bed.
You’re transfixed, as your wife’s big mounds bounce in time with your thrusts, making you drool with want. An animalistic growl leaves your throat as you push yourself in, even deeper than before, making Natasha arch above the bed with a muffled cry.
Just like that, with you buried inside Natasha, do you fall apart by the seams, an unwinding intricate tarp.
Your load gets buried deep inside Natasha’s womb, and you continue with shallow thrusts. “Mhmn,” Natasha moans, following soon after, spurts of slick coating your cock in waves of overarching pleasure.
“Babydoll,” you groan mindlessly, palming at her sides. You come so heavily that it flows out of Natasha, a dribble of thick white fluid, and your wife fingers it back in so desperately that you could get hard all over again. 
You collapse unceremoniously onto the bed next to Natasha. “I want more kids,” you state. You grope your wife’s tummy like it would conjure new life, an expectant look on your face.
“Three is enough,” Natasha says breathlessly, skin shining with a sheen of fresh sweat. She locks eyes with you, hair tousled and lips curled into an adoring smile.
“Okay, fine,” you mutter your acquiescence, both of you knowing that statement wouldn’t hold up for long. “...Give me a minute, then I’ll clean up. You need some water, baby?”
Natasha lets out a pleased hum, snuggling into your chest.
She kisses your left boob affectionately, as you groan with sensitivity, playfully swatting at her arm. “No need. Just want you.”
“You have me,” you respond softly, running a hand through the brown locks of your wife’s hair, flattening it out with gentle strokes. “You always will.”
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so that's chapter one of 'home is where the heart is!' i personally choose to believe pepper straps tony down every night. what are your thought on the kids?? mommy!nat?? butch!reader?? the incorporation of the texts?? there's so much feedback i require tbh
reblog or no more milf!nat
SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 4 months
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Bonus 8: How met your mother (CSSR design by @qourmet!)
[First] Prev <–-> Next
#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#cangse sanren#wei changze#jiang fengmian#It was important to me that WCZ had the hereditary mole. I will die on this hill.#I have been *waiting* for the day to finally arrive when I could finally make this comic. It's been marinating for months.#My mission is to redraw all of qour's character designs one day. They are just *that* good.#CSSR has the vibes of a wandering menace who shows up in towns like a stray cat arriving at a new doorstep for treats. 10/10.#While YZY strongly leads us to believe that JFM was in love with CSSR and that's his whole motivation behind taking wwx in-#-I do think this is (once again) rumour being presented as reality. It's the juicer story to tell after all.#It is still possible that he did love her! But I think that story undercuts the relationship he also had with WCZ.#Yall ever think about how JC and WWX parallel their fathers? How Wei Changze also left the Jiang Leader's side? I do.#Unlike JC though It is far more hilarious and plausible to imagine JFM begging to be CSSR and WCZ's third. You know he would.#My wild headcanon is that JFM and YZY are in a mlm and wlw arranged marriage situation. Deeply unhappy as partners. Better as friends.#they care for each other and I'll admit that there is a beautiful tragedy in them having romantic feelings for each other the whole time.#But I am also here for the gaffs. Let them be unfulfilled homosexuals together.#Meanwhile cssr and wcz are having incredible hetrosexual sex in a bisexual way that WILL leave him pregnant by the end of it.
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beforeimdeceased · 16 days
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ellie hitting it from the back and you're just completely in subspace, taking everything's she's giving you completely blissed out and brainless:))
nsfw! — ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —
omg the way she’d be fucking you so good you’d only be able to see stars. you’ll actually be drooling and brain dead like a cock drunk dummy lmao. her hand on the back of your neck keeping you steady while she hits your weak spot over and over and over again. you’ve forgotten what it’s like to not have her stuffing your walls. other hand gripping the plump flesh of your ass so hard you’re sure that it’ll leave a bruise. the kind you look at in the mirror that sends memories rushing to your stomach.
speaking of stomachs, she’s fucking you so deep you’re positive she’s blending your guts. turning you into a pleasure smoothie. and you feel like fucking jello because it’s all too much. you’re so gone you can’t even hear her talking to you. “you’re taking me so well. you can barely respond. fuck, can you hear that? you’re so fucking wet for me.”
and then she slows down. slow, hard thrusts. one after the next making you grip the sheets and stuff your face into the mattress. all while’s she’s got the stupidest smirk on her face. (probably thinking about how next time she’s gonna fuck you in front of a mirror and make you watch yourself become her cock slut.)
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romanovthinkver · 1 month
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imagine humping natasha’s big cock. she’s leaned on the propped pillows on your bed with a smirk and watches you pathetically rock your hips on her clothed bulge. black boxers coated on your mixed juices, her fat big tip pocking, begging and seeking sone friction. you wine a lot wanting your daddy to grip at your hips to go faster, but natasha would only tsk.
you woke me up wanting my cock, little one, it’s all yours but daddy will not help you. use your strength on rocking your hips instead on whining.
fuck baby girl, look what you’re making at daddy’s cock. do you see baby, mh? a perfect cock slut that’s what you are.
what is it baby? can’t cum without daddy’s help mh? so pathetic. daddy always has to do all of the work because my dumb little baby can’t hump this big cock.
natasha, in the end, growl getting rid of her drenched boxers and proceeds to fuck you roughly; slapping your ass till it colours red and your pussy stuffed with her cum.
inbox is open to requests
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arcadechan · 4 months
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You know what would be amazing in your style? Vampire sucking the blood of her maiden 👀💕
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ohhhh, when she gives you her neck for the first time...
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lucyllawless · 5 months
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Imagine Me & You (2005) dir. Ol Parker
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wlw-imagines · 4 months
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Behind The Curtain - Amelia Shepherd/Reader (Grey’s Anatomy)
request: Could you do a oneshot with Amelia Shepard where they both work at the hospital and are secretly dating. One day Arizona or Meredith or somebody catches them making out and then teases them about it the rest of the day. You're writing is fantastic! Thanks for reading this :) - anon
a/n: these are from my old tumblr thefandomwritings from back in 2018 ! re-vamped and re-purposed!! hope u enjoy and forgive the 2018 me style writing
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Keeping your relationship with Amelia secret had been pretty easy for the two of you.
Whilst you were rarely seen venturing further than paediatrics ward, Amelia was similarly tied down to Neuro, being a neurosurgeon, and to whatever various tasks kept her occupied elsewhere in the hospital. Therefore there was never any need to cover anything up about your long-term relationship.
It had begun as a late night fling, early on in your careers at Seattle Grace - you had both finished a shift at the same time and walked into each other as you were buying a coffee.
She smiled sleepily, her eyes bleary as she gripped the coffee cup, “Y/L/N, right?”
You nodded at the correct name, and also in recognition of the woman in front of you, “Amelia.”
“Coffee? At this late hour?” She smirked, a twinkle growing in her eyes.
You couldn’t help but let out a laugh, “I could say the same for you.”
Amelia shrugged and started walking at your side, “I won’t get any sleep any time soon anway, what’s your excuse?” She raised an eyebrow as the two of your left the cafeteria.
“Same.” You shrugged, before turning back to face her and fully reigstering the look in her eyes. You took a slight risk, hoping it was the correct one, “Want to come back to mine? We can talk about how shit life is and commiserate together?”
“I’m less of a talker, more of a do-er.” She caught your expression of a raised eyebrow and shook her head, “Not like that!”
“Hey, we can do whatever you want to do.” You laughed, “I can make us more coffee at home? Stronger coffee.”
“Okay. I’d like that.”
You were fortunate really because whenever you were around one another your love was probably too obvious and your relationship was something that you felt didn't need to be known by everyone yet. So, the longer it could be kept a secret, the better. There would be no complaints of favouritism in surgery and no teasing during late night shifts, it was just straight up easier.
And while normally the distance between your areas of expertise was in your favour, sometimes, on the rare occasion, the paediatrics and brain surgery teams would collaborate. It was at time like these that it was much more difficult to keep your hands off each other.
The day had started with Arizona rushing towards you, a stressed look on her face reserved for only the worst cases. "We have a nine year old girl coming in with serious unspecified head injuries. I've paged Lady Shepherd so she is on her way up, you'll be following the case with me." She rushed out, no time to pause.
"Wait, I... Lady Sheph- Amelia is being given the case?" You asked, your heart hammering slightly once you heard the name.
"She is our in-house neurosurgeon so, yes. She is. Do you have a problem with that Y/L/N?" The woman quirked an eyebrow up at you, giving you one of her looks that you could hardly ever interpret so you just stuttered away.
"N-no, not at all. That's fine, it's great. Good for her." You stumbled through some random words that didn't even really make sense in the situation before you were interrupted by your girlfriend walking through the doors.
There was just something about her in authority and her scrubs that turned you on and that was why you were better off separated. So you found yourself relatively lucky to not be included in the team that went into surgery.
You avoided the viewing platform. But even when you were stuck outside doing paperwork you still found yourself too distracted, your mind wandering off too many times, thinking of what you would do to the woman once you were in the safety of your own apartment. 
It was going to be a long day.
You had waited until the surgery was finished until you snuck into a call room. Amelia had been walking past when you attempted to (subtly) pull her into the  room with you. You immediately closed the door and pinned her up against it, making an attempt to lock the door before Amelia flipped the tables and pushed you against the wall. The look in her eyes immediately brought back memories of how your relationship had initially begun.
"What are you smiling about?" She asked, pulling back with a confused look on her face.
Leaning forward, you kissed her nose and hummed slightly, "I love you, is all." 
The smile remained on your face as you leant slowly in. Your lips connected and the kiss only became more passionate as the pent up frustration of long, hard days and not seeing each other as much as you needed to built up. You weren't even in there to hook up like you always used to, you just need to be close and be together.(Although, shirts were beginning to be unbuttoned...)
You were vaguely aware of footsteps approaching but you were too caught up with Amelia and had just assumed they had passed. That was until you heard a small gasp coming from the doorway.
Amelia and you pulled away from each other as quickly as you could, your girlfriend stumbling back and almost falling over had it not been for you grabbing her waist and wrapping your arms around her to prevent the fall.
Once she was secure you turned your head back to whoever had interrupted with a smile that was as innocent as you could make it before clearing your throat, "Arizona... Hey."
"Well, I was not expecting this...” A small grin spread across her lips and she let out a gleeful laugh, “Actually, you know what I kind of was. Y/N's been acting strange." Arizona smiled with an evil twinkle in her eye, "I can't believe you guys haven't told me!" You quickly shushed her before pulling her into the call room and closing the door behind her. "I love you guys but at least buy me dinner first..." She joked, earning a light slap on the arm from you.
"What are you doing?" You asked, running your hand through your hair and starting to fidget.
Arizona paused, "I was going to take a nap... in the call room. Because that's what-"
Your girlfriend looked at her watch and shrugged at you, "Look at the time, I've got to go." Amelia, spoke up from the corner, sliding out the door without another word.
You went to walk after her but turned to Arizona who was still standing there with a smile on her face, "You scared my girlfriend away." You pouted.
Arizona just wrapped her arms around you and rocked you side to side, "I'm so proud of you!"
"Shut up."
"But you're both so cute."
"Shut up!" You pushed her slightly, laughing.
"And you've finally found someo-"
You gave her one last look before opening the door, "Okay, I'm leaving now!" You said, walking out.
"Love you." She yelled after your disappearing body.
"Love you too." You yelled back before adding on, "And don't you dare tell anyone!”
--------------------------------
"Y/N," You jokingly rolled your eyes when confronted with Arizona leaning on the nurse desk with a big smile on her face. You prepared yourself for the teasing that was inevitably about to come and pretended to be more interested in the paperwork in front of you. The teasing over the past week had been neverending, "Listen, I know I've been making fun of you and your girlfriend all day and I just wanted to let you know that I support you 100%. I promise that I won't let anyone know of your little secret, okay?" You visibly relaxed and looked back up at her.
You smiled, putting your hand over hers, "You know, you didn't need to tell me that. I trusted you from the beginning but thank you all the same."
She nodded and went to leave before turning back to you, "By the way, I've given your girlfriend a little gift - you may want to go up and say hi. She's in the nursery."
Confused, you frowned slightly but didn't question it as you nodded and made your way to the other side of the ward, where all the newborns are kept.
You stepped in front of the window looking into the nursery and felt your heart skip a beat to see Amelia cradling one of the babies. She caught your eye and her eyes twinkled slightly as she looked down at the baby in her arms. You sighed blissfully and stepped into the room.
"Are you terrorizing the children?" You asked, looking around at the other 3 cribs, each holding a tiny, delicate baby. You stepped closer to Amelia, putting an arm around her lower back and looking down at the baby.
"They're our kids without any home, or parents." Amelia whispered, rocking the baby slightly before shifting the pink blanket to cover her head and little waving hand that had fallen out when she was trying to reach up to your girlfriend. "I kind of thought you were just going to end the sentence at, 'they're our kids' and then you would have a lot of explaining to do."
"Surprise!" She sarcastically cheered before one last rock of the baby. Between the two of you, you managed to safely get her back into her cot and tucked up in her blanket before sneaking out the door.
You both stood in each other's embrace for a while, just soaking in each other's love and company.
"Y'know, maybe it's good that people know about us - especially Arizona." You mumble, longingly staring at the bundles left in the nursery, "if it gets us perks like getting to cuddle cute babies during work then I'm so up for coming out to everyone." You joked.
Amelia just nodded, "Me too." You looked up, slightly surprised as it hadn't really been something you had discussed yet. "Hey, you want to stay at mine and get chinese tonight?"
"Do you have the house to yourself?" You asked with surprise, since these are the only times you get to stay round and even then it is like a military mission. "No, it's a full house tonight. I'm introducing you to them."
"Babe, you realise I know your friends and they know me. We're part of the same friendship group."
"I know, but I get to introduce you as my girlfriend." She grinned and began walking back down the corridor, back to work before yelling over her shoulder, "Plus I get to show them pictures of our children!"
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Hyperventilating.
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sytoran · 23 days
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home is where the heart is ★ n.r
— 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ;; 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐅𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 & 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇
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in which your married life with natasha romanoff is depicted through this comedy-drama series. with your dream job, three kids, and a plethora of friends, each day is blissful but all the more chaotic and unpredictable. (and ultimately, very horny.)
pairing ★ sub!wife!natasha x beefy!butch!reader
chapter summary ★ twitter's sole purpose is for you to thirst over your wife, the beach is a good place to spend time with your kids, and ogle at your wife in a bathing suit, but not a great a place to have sex. (lesson learnt).
warnings ★ (MINORS DNI) - explicit content, hard stuff: beach sex, doggy style, cunnilingus, daddy kink, SO MUCH thirsting
word count ★ 4.0k (get fed gremlins)
SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST
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*****
In tandem with Tony Stark’s spontaneity, Steve Rogers’ unending enthusiasm, and the fact that you privately owned close to twenty beach resorts in New York alone, the lot of you and your other friends had a beach outing planned for that Sunday.
After the astronomically long time it took to get your kids dressed, beach toys packed, picnic dinner prepared, and everything loaded into the car, five happy L/N-Romanoffs finally kickstart their journey to the Westview Surfers’ Beach.
“SAND!” Emilia roars maniacally, once the five of you step foot onto the sandy shore. She’s gone like the ocean breeze, sprinting into the distance, grains of sand flying everywhere.
“Sea! Sea! Sea!” Emilio is equally as excited, already by the tide of the brilliantly blue ocean, following its ebb and flow with scampering feet and delighted cries. 
“Careful, Emilio!” Marina says, holding his hand, preventing her over excited brother from falling over. You can see the way she laughs along, kicking up water with her slippers.
Behind your eager children, you swing you and Natasha’s interlocked hands as you casually stroll along the beach, giving her a sweet smile. 
The sand that crunched beneath your feet was earthen and dry, such a gentle hue of gold, almost as grounding as the bright smile your wife returned.
“You look heavenly,” you murmur, bringing up the underside of your wife’s palm to press a gentle kiss to it. She flushes prettily, the sundress she’s adorning doing wonders to her skin tone and curves.
Natasha returns the softness, pressing into your side as you wrap a firm arm around her waist, hand cupping the curve of her motherly hips.
“Oy, lovebirds!”
At the sound of a distinctly familiar voice, you and Natasha spin around with bemused looks. From a distance, you can see Tony with a flamingo floatie around his hips, waving comically.
Next to him, the regular gang is sprawled across three separate picnic mats, conveniently hidden from the sun under several large beach umbrellas. 
Pepper is fixing up Tony’s floatie, to which Carol and Valkyrie snicker at from afar. Thor is asleep on the mats, taking up more than half the area. Laura is busy reading, with Clint probably gone to find seashells for the sandcastle Bucky and Steve are constructing. The kids make a long human chain from the shore to the sandcastle, scooping up buckets of water to make a trench.
“Aunty Y/N! Aunty Nat!” Nathaniel squeals, dropping his bucket, running over and leaping into your arms.
“What’s up, you little rascal?” you ask, laughing as the youngest Barton giggles. Natasha ruffles his head, waving at Lila. 
Morgan, being the same age as Emilia and Emilio, is already chatting excitedly with them and kicking up a loud racket. Marina joins Cooper in attaining bucketfuls of seawater.
“What’s up, my favourite lesbians?” Tony calls out to you and Natasha with outstretched arms, comically ignorant to the death-glare Valkyrie shoots him. 
Natasha rolls her eyes in faux annoyance, strolling past him and brightening up animatedly to chat with the ladies. You pat Tony’s back sympathetically. 
Your attention flits to an impressively large sandcastle with a sculpture of a mermaid on top, hand-crafted by Steve and Bucky. Leaning closer to Tony, you whisper, “Why does the mermaid kinda look like you?”
Leaving him to splutter at his intentionally uncanny resemblance to the mermaid, with a seashell bra and an elegant tail, you look up to see Clint coming back with his arms full of seashells. 
“Hi, Y/N!” He greets distractedly. In the midst of his frantic haste, Clint’s foot gets caught on a stray rock —
And the rest is a scene out of a comedy movie. 
The seashells go flying out of his arms, scattering onto the picnic mat and spraying sand everywhere, Clint loses his balance and flies forward, outstretched arms knock into the sandcastle, and everyone watches in horror as Steve and Bucky’s great unfinished symphony comes crumbling down, leaving only the head of Tony’s mermaid untouched.
A quiet hush falls. 
Bucky and Steve’s faces are morphed into disbelief and heartbreak, and Clint trembles in fear with sand in his mouth. Tony shudders at his beheaded mermaid, the ladies have their hands over their mouths, and Natasha fights battles in order not to burst out laughing. Thor sleeps unperturbed, and even the kids' racket has died down.
“Well,” you announce, breaking the stunned silence. “Who wants to go surfing?”
*****
As Natasha lazes in a beach chair, away from the gory scene of Steve and Bucky dunking Clint in the seawater, she watches you with a budding fire in her belly. 
Standing on the sand so casually, you have your hefty surfboard tucked under one arm, and Emilio in your other. You’re speaking to him with a roguish grin, unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, tinted sunglasses pushed up to muss up your perfectly tousled hair. 
“You ready to ride the waves, bub?” 
“Yeah! I’m ready!”
Your wife swallows, thinking she was ready to ride something else.
Natasha crosses her legs unsubtly. It was honestly unfair, how indifferently attractive you were, like it was a state of being instead of a practised art. 
Perhaps it was her love for you and the longevity of your marriage that warped her perception of sexiness, but when you were casually strolling on the beach with that chiselled abdomen on display, who was she to be blamed?
“Y/N!” Natasha calls, sitting up slightly. There’s a devious little idea blooming in the back of her mind, and she feels like taking the bait, just for today.
You look up at your wife’s beckoning, and smile widely at her. Setting Emilio down gingerly and calling him a “little rascal”, you jog over to Natasha easily. 
When you flick your hair back, it glints in the sunlight, and so does the sheen of sweat under your sports bra, defining the cutting edges of your abdomen. Natasha has the criminal urge to rip off your swimming trunks there and then.
Despite your obliviousness, Natasha is more than well-aware of the stares you’re getting from young women and married women alike, momentarily disregarding their boyfriends and husbands to gawk at you.
“Damn, look at that fine specimen!”
“Ryan, why don’t you work out more?”
“There goes my heterosexuality.”
You get feasted upon hungry eyes like a slab of beef, likened to your beefiness, but it only makes Natasha’s possessiveness skyrocket.
“Hey, honey,” you say, settling on a low and inviting tone that has your wife blushing. You crouch down next to her beach chair, holding her hand in a sweet gesture. “What’s up?” 
You’re close to her, so close, and she can feel the heat radiating off you, and your distinct scent, and the overwhelming senses of want and need are washing over Natasha like those tidal waves in the ocean.
But well, Natasha knew more than a few ways to rile you up too.
“I think I want to go surfing too,” she lies through her teeth, having no inclination to partake in the sport. Natasha fakes a pout all too well, knowing it’s one of your many weaknesses. “But the sun’s really hot out there, so I need some help with the sunscreen.” 
It wasn’t like she’d have needed it, anyway. Just like that and you’re sold, ever the gentleman and the golden retriever, digging for the sunscreen in the duffel bag.
“Of course, honey,” you reply readily. “Is it the Banana Boat sunscreen, or is that the kids’ one? Oh wait, we have the SPF 50 one, I think that’s—”
Words trail off comically when you look back up at Natasha, gradually dying down completely.
Your wife has conveniently slid off her outer layer of a sheer white blouse, leaving her in just a matching two-piece set of an azure bathing suit. The top piece is held together with thin pieces of string, accentuating her chest in a tight cradle. The lack of coverage shows off the dip of her hips and her soft curves.
Coherent thoughts in your mindwires get severed as Natasha plays with the string on her bottom piece, nearly flashing you as the material slides down ever so slightly. Your throat dries up as her fingers trail a path over her tummy and cleavage. She plays with another bundle of string that keeps her chest barely covered, and the irresistible urge rises within you to undo it.
“My eyes are up here, y’know,” Natasha murmurs, laying on her side and looking at you through lowered lashes.
“I know where they are,” you answer hoarsely, gaze still fixated on your wife’s enticing cleavage.
The sheer amount of bare skin that Natasha is showing off has your remaining fragments of sanity falling to pieces. There’s no point even trying to hide the tent in your pants, poking uncomfortably against the fabric.
“Gonna help me lather sunscreen?” Natasha asks with a silky lilt to her voice, turning over on the beach chair. 
You groan out loud when you see the curve of your wife’s ass on display, her rounded bottom barely covered by a few measly pieces of material, all held together by flimsy strings and nothing else.
“Mhm,” you respond brainlessly, uncapping the bottle and rubbing your hands with a bountiful amount of the moisture, clearly in excess.
You begin applying your wife’s sunscreen with overzealous eagerness and desire. Large hands spread unnecessarily widely as you gain coverage over the soft skin of her back, trailing up and down and smearing the white moisture over her soft skin.
“Oh, that feels nice,” Natasha says airily, a dainty little sound that causes your cock to twitch in your shorts. 
The line down the middle of Natasha’s back is emphasised as she tenses and relaxes it. Like clockwork, you begin massaging your wife’s back to release the tension in her muscles.
“Y/N…” The breathy moan she lets out is pure heaven, dragged out from the depths of her throat, then lifting to a higher tone that washes over you in a sea of goosebumps.
Of course, your faux masseuse skillset is just a simple ploy to grope and knead at Natasha. Fat spills through your fingers as you spread your hands across her torso, as Natasha whines softly.
It wouldn’t take a genius to realise that the heat building between the two of you was not just due to the heatwaves under the beating, unforgiving sun.
Your frighteningly quickly-growing arousal only heightens when Natasha feels that her back is done and flips over. Face-to-face with her hefty mounds, a round belly, and the blown pupils of viridescent eyes — you lose the plot completely. 
Deft hands fly to your wife’s ample assets, squeezing her hips in sinful amounts and staking your claim. “You’re so pretty, baby,” you mumble, face buried into the crook of her neck, subtly mouthing at her neck.
“Mhm,” Natasha whines in agreement, but it turns into a gasp as your fingers slip underneath the material of her bra, plucking at hardened nipples in merciless haste.
You press down onto her, flat tongue and sharp teeth, licking a broad stripe up your wife’s exposed collarbone to the tender column of her neck.
Before you can taint clear skin with raging-purple bruises, you’re pulled away with a firm grip on the back of your neck. You look back up to see Natasha gazing at you sternly. 
“Let’s try not to perpetuate public sex while you are the owner of this place, with all our friends present, and the kids building sandcastles no less than ten feet away.”
Much to your disgruntlement, these factors weigh in heavily and overpower your body’s built-in “pretty-wife-need-to-worship” mechanic. Now, your shorts fill up a lot more space than need be, your shaft pressing hot and tight against your left leg, clearly visible.
You grumble, hands still clammy with sunblock, the ghost of Natasha’s warmth still interlaced between each of your fingers. “You’re a meanie,” you sulk, lust-driven adrenaline coursing through your veins.
Natasha looks at you with a wicked smile. “And you’re too susceptible, darling. Now, where’s my flask? I plan on staying plenty hydrated before watching you rough it out against the waves.”
Clearly put-off by not being able to fuck your wife in your public beach resort, you flip off a little kid who openly ogles at Natasha’s ass, much to your wife’s horror.
*****
“I’M NOT BUILT FOR THIS!” Tony screams, arms flailing, as he rides a shallow wave. His firmly implanted foot adds too much weight on the front of his neon yellow surfboard, and the over-eager man overturns comically as the current rushes.
You laugh out loud, Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, surfing past Tony in a smooth motion. “Stick to the flamingo floatie, little guy!”
Valkyrie barely dodges the splash Tony creates, nearly falling off her own board. “Fuck off, you cunt!” she yells, full-chested and deadly focused on the tide. From a distance in the shallower part of the ocean, a reprimanding “Language!” can be heard.
Natasha’s wading in the shallower waters with Laura, while Thor had opted to sun tan on the beach while watching the kids.
As a large wave approaches, Natasha watches with intent. Upon your wife’s new found attention, you mentally prepare yourself, determined to impress her, and perhaps get revenge for her prior ploy.
You manoeuvre deftly, putting weight on your back foot to stabilise as you approach the wave head-on. Three… two… one. You add even more weight on your back foot as you go around the back turn while gaining speed, garnering energy like a coiled spring.
As the wave reaches its full height, broad and steep, your calves release with impact, propelling up the barrel of the wave like a spring. The surfboard moves in effortless motion, anchored by your back foot, navigated by your right.  
The second you reach the lip of the wave, you find the sweet spot to execute the backside tail slide. You rotate your wide-set shoulders, swiftly switching the pressure to your front foot. 
Your surfboard glides off the surface for a split-second, turning mid-air — there’s a camera-worthy frame of damp hair, stray droplets, and focused eyes.
You slide back down at an oblique angle with purpose and precision, like a scene out of a movie, locking eyes with Natasha as the wave crashes behind you.
“Damn, Y/N!” Carol hoots, looking amazed as you surf back to the rest of the gang.
“That was crazy,” Steve adds, resting belly-down onto the surfboard, strikingly adorable for a hulking man.
“Gotta admit, that was pretty cool,” Tony comments, his head bobbing above the surface of the water and his surfboard nowhere to be found.
You laugh along with them, attempting to explain the technical jargon of how you did it. But as much as you appreciated your friends’ enthusiasm, there was ultimately only one person you sought validation from. 
“Hi,” you say to Natasha with a stupid smile, sitting on your surfboard, having escaped the rest. 
“That was very sexy of you,” your wife wastes no time in stating, as if she wasn’t five millimetres away from flashing you and killing you with her sexiness. 
Natasha is stuck on the image of your damp hair flying into place like a scene out of a superhero movie, unbuttoned shirt flailing up to expose your defined back and abdomen, concentration flashing in your eyes.
“Mhm,” you hum lowly. Fire burns low in your belly as you ogle your wife in her bathing suit, pulling her closer by the underside of her thighs.
In a moment of indiscretion, your left hand slips upwards and undoes the knot on Natasha’s bathing suit, letting the material slip from your fingers.
“Y/N!” Though blocked from view of the others as it was underwater, Natasha lets out a breathy gasp and presses into you. Her cunt, already soaked before, gets even wetter at the intrusion of seawater.
“Can I claim my prize?” you ask heavily, hot pants against your wife’s ear, driving her wild with the way your fingers slip through her folds to encroach on her entrance.
In no time at all, two of your fingers are at Natasha’s cunt, feeling slick even underwater, and you push in—
“Group picture!” Steve yells from a distance, as you and your wife effectively leap apart in the water, the heated moment dissipated into thin air. 
But it lingers, the arousal, swimming in the back of your consciousness as you smile for a group selfie. Bucky’s arm is around you but you thank the heavens for hiding your erection under the water.
You can tell Natasha feels the same, eyes locking on you even after Steve successfully takes the group picture. (After many attempts.)
“I’m gonna go check on the kids,” Natasha finally says, gesturing back as if she was going to walk back to shore. She’s expectant, waiting.
“And I think I’m gonna go check with her!” you add, chuckling awkwardly, beckoning backwards with your thumbs.
“Okay,” Steve says disbelievingly, eyes glimmering with knowing and just a little amusement. Tony is much less subtle in his sniggering, and Clint looks horrified at the prospect of doing it at the beach.
Tony claps you on the back as you walk past. “Use protection,” he whispers, and you fumble out a haphazard response. 
*****
Turns out, you and Natasha don’t even make it to a completely secluded area before you’re half-undressed and panting. 
And maybe that’s half the thrill, hidden in a secluded beach cave, with regular people roaming around just outside. You’re pressed skin-to-skin with each other and tuning out everything else.
You groan as you snap the strings of Natasha’s bathing suit off, finally, finally. Teardrop tits bounce in place, shaking with the impact of how hard you jerk against your wife, unbearably uncomfortable in the constraints of your boxers.
Natasha takes mercy on you, helping you to tug down your Calvin Clein briefs, watching with heady arousal as your shaft slaps against your six-pack, red and raw and leaking.
“Hurry up,” Natasha whines, bending over and clutching at a stray rock, ass in the air as she exposes her leaking cunt to you. 
“Fuck, baby,” you groan, grabbing onto her ass and slapping it just because you can. You sink deep into your wife, warmth and relief enveloping you as you bury yourself inside her.
The first thrust is like heaven, feeling the pulse and push of Natasha’s walls as she accommodates to take your size, stretching to a familiar extent because you’d made a nest in there for yourself. 
The second thrust takes you there, an insurgent amount of slick coating your cock, flooding the path you proceed to pummel into. “Natty,” you whine, groping at her ass and pulling it closer to you, hilt-deep with no signs of stopping.
“Mhm, daddy,” Natasha moans, walls fluttering around you as you pull out, trying to stop your escape. But then you thrust forward, again, warm and full and deep, and your wife wails beneath you.
Natasha lets this velvet sound from her throat, silky and coated in honey as she breathes reinvigorated life into your arousal.
“Fuck,” you growl, rutting your hips with more rigour. Natasha whines, wrists suspended behind her back with one of your hands as you have your way with her.
“Baby I’m gonna come,” you gasp, virility cloaking the way your abdomen presses up against Natasha, left hand encircling her neck to bring your hot mouth up to hers.
You’re hardly embarrassed for how fast you’re barrelling towards climax, as Natasha is in much more of the same position. She’s panting your name, clutching at the rocks with hard sand digging into her feet. Your cock nudges and prods into her sweet spots effortlessly, the result of countless sex experiences.
“M-me too,” she responds breathily, breaking off into a whine as you press heated, open-mouthed kisses along the line of her back, tasting the salt and sweat on your tongue.
Pleasure blossoms in your lower torso, creeping up the base of your shaft and working its way upwards. Hot arousal overflows from its constraints, and your teeth sinks into your bottom lip as you come, quick and hot and messy.
“Oh!” Natasha moans, high-pitched and sensitive, as you pluck at her ruby-hard nipples. It only takes a few more thrusts for her to reach release, dripping down your cock and her thighs.
“Mhm, nhn—” As your wife raises in pitch and volume, you stuff three fingers into her open mouth, giving her something to suck on and remain quiet. You continue with gentle thrusts, feeling thick white liquid flow out the side of Natasha’s ruined cunt.
“Needa taste you,” you suddenly grunt, hips bumping into Natasha’s ass. She babbles her agreement, despite being half-conscious in a state of post-orgasmic pleasure. 
Easily, you lift Natasha and set her down onto the sandy shore of the beach cave, where the tide is low and washes over your feet gently.
It’s a change of pace, a gradual end to your savage ravaging, slow and sensual, where the water meets the sand. You lower yourself between Natasha’s spread thighs, lips slightly parted and dripping with need.
Natasha swallows audibly, right hand twisting into your tousled hair, looking at you through hooded eyes and lowered lashes. 
Words are left unspoken between the two of you, the tension speaking for itself, as you retain eye contact while lowering your mouth onto Natasha’s pulsing cunt.
You take your last breath of the fresh sea salt air and summer breeze before drowning in unbridled desire. As if making out passionately, you eat your wife out, switching between licking and sucking.
Poetry is written between the lines — the lilt of Natasha’s hitched breath, the crease of her thighs where your fingertips drag across, the shallow water that wades over your feet in a cool decrescendo.
Your head dips down once more, warm and wet, and the sun melts into the horizon, glazing golden and liquid orange. 
With your tongue lodged fully inside your wife’s pussy, marking your inability to breathe, and wide hands spread firmly over Natasha’s thighs, the two of you converge in saintly devotion, hushed worship falling from her lips.
“Please, just like that, please, daddy, please.”
Just like that, and the ocean swallows you whole, taking you under Natasha’s hold inescapably. Your name is said in a breathless cry, lilting and pronounced, and you shudder between her clenched thighs.
“Nat?”
“Yeah?”
“I think there’s ocean water up my asshole.”
“Yeah, I got some sand up my vagina too.”
*****
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and that's chapter two of 'hiwthi'! how did yall feel about the introduction of the rest of the cast? i personally enjoyed writing the build-up scenes the most. (sunscreen and surfing!) and for those keen on expanding the family dynamic, i'll be building on that in the next chapter!
reblog or i will take 292857192 years to post the next part
SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST
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flowersforvi · 1 month
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ellie whose favorite thing in the world is lazy make out sessions and she’s so desperate for kisses
sloppy desperate make out session…. ouhhhh..
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ellie would be laying on you, legs intertwined with yours, kissing and forcing her tongue into your mouth as if she would never see you again. which wasn’t true, at all, she was always just so desperate for you.
she sometimes would even try to speak to you as you two were making out— not like it was coherent, but it was the though that counted, right?
“loveyou s’much— mean everythin’ t’me”
okay, maybe it was a little coherent, and it was so cute too. she just had to make sure you always knew how strongly she felt for you.
she’d look up at you with the most desperate eyes, as if she was begging, pleading you for more. as every kiss deepened, she would moan, letting out small whimpers.
she had wanted you so badly, wrapping her hands into your hair, pulling your head in as if it could get any closer. it couldn’t, but she would try her hardest.
she needed to be close to you always, even in times of desperation.
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taglist; @syrenada @satellitespinner @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess @ellieslob @starlynnr @enhanct @fl0wrsgr0wing1nmyv3ins @4ftergloww @marsworlddd @sapphiclesbli
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beforeimdeceased · 6 months
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hey bae! if you’re still taking requests could i please have something fluffy with mean! ellie and sensitive/soft! reader. it can be whatever u want, loving the pink theme btw 🎀⭐️!
CRYBABY! - (E.W)
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pairing: mean/cruel ellie x sensitive/emotional reader.
synopsis: you’ve had a seriously bad day, and now you’re stuck with the shittiest person you’ve ever met while you wait for your friends to get home.
a/n: thank u for acknowledging the theme! it took so long to put together 😭. also i really hope this fulfills your request. would you guys want a part 2 w/ smut this time?
“crybaby, crybaby. we need to cry. and if we do, i know that would be alright.” — edit
masterlist.
ellie fucking williams was an exceptional singer, guitarist, and had incredible stage presence. but more importantly: she was an asshole. a complete fucking dick, and not just the usual “too good for everyone” cocky. she was crude. she was vulgar and she knew exactly how to push people, you specifically. sometimes you thought that she walked around asking for a fight to prove herself to people. now, you think it’s so she can finally feel something. even if it’s a mind spinning jab at her face.
you did your best to stay away from her, despite you sharing friends; jesse and dina. you knew exactly how she was and you knew you couldn’t handle it. no matter how many times you tried to let her little remarks brush past you, you always found yourself wanting to go lower. and each time you were around her it got harder to bite your tongue.
today was a bad day. a shit day. one of your worst. you found fraudulent activity on your bank card, got hit with a frustratingly large and urgent bill, and your washing machine broke. all in the span of an hour. the customers at your job had been extra rude and to make matters worse, your manager yelled at you for a mistake you didn’t even make.
all you wanted to do was go over to dina & jesse’s and eat brownies while they treated you like the child they’d yet to have. dina rubbing your back and reassuring you that everything will be okay while jesse threatens to beat all your enemies bloody. you use the spare key you have to their apartment to messily trudge in, kicking your shoes off at the door and smiling as you open the fridge to find dina’s special 1,000 hour brownies.
“i keep telling her she should put weed in those.” echoes behind you, causing you to pause mid bite. there she is, leaning against the counter. eyes smudged with her signature stage eyeliner, sweat glistening on her skin, a tank top and her stage cargos sagging on her waist. gargling down a plastic water bottle that had definitely seen better days.
“where are dina and jesse?” you furrow your brows closing the fridge. you grab a napkin to place the brownie on, and move further back near the door away from her. just in case.
“they went to go grab some groceries, but they told me to stay here and wait for you.” she answers, finishing the bottle off.
fuck. how long were they going to be gone? you couldn’t imagine spending more than 2 minutes alone with this loose lipped devil. her eyes narrow as she looks you up and down before smiling. here she goes.
“bad day? cause it looks like it.”
“well it definitely isn’t going to get better with you around me.” you snap back.
“ouch. i’m hurt.” she laughs. deviously. a hand over her chest as she pushes off the counter to chuck the empty bottle into the trash can.
you move over to the living room, sitting yourself on the couch. maybe if you ignore her she’ll get bored and leave you alone? maybe she’ll get so bored she’ll actually leave. god, please get the fuck out of here.
she follows you though, sitting way too close for comfort and turning on the tv. you pull your phone out, immediately opening tumblr and mindlessly scrolling. hoping that dina and jesse will be home soon.
“d tells me you stopped showing up to gigs because of me. is that true?” she breaks the silence between you two. you shrug her off. “you’re not the easiest person to be around, williams.” you state.
“so what’s wrong with me? i’d love to hear it straight from the horses mouth.” she scoffs, scooting closer. when you attempt to ignore her she pulls your phone out of your hand. staring into your eyes with her very own. piercing through your soul for a response. “is it because i called you an idiot?”
“among other things, but it doesn’t surprise me that that’s all you remember.” you reach for your phone but she pulls it back. this causes you to pinch her, and she smacks your hand away still holding your phone back. “remind me then.”
you feel her taunting tone. her want— need to push at you. to push your buttons and boundaries until you break. it’s like a game to her, and you certainly weren’t in the mood for it today.
“can you give me my phone so i can find out when dina and jesse are coming home?” you sigh. her behavior reminded you of a customer you’d had earlier who’d treated you like garbage because you weren’t smiling. you felt tears welling up but pushed them down. you never cried in front of ellie. because of her, maybe, but never to her face. you’d never live it down.
“can you answer my question? so i can apologize or whatever. d is really on my ass about it.”
you scoff. “ofcourse you aren’t genuinely sorry. you probably don’t even remember all the fucked up shit you say and do to people. half of the time you ignore me and the other half you treat me like i’m a burden. do you remember when you guys had your first real show? i told the security i knew you and you pretended like i was a stranger.”
“jesse was sooo pissed you didn’t show up.” she laughs. “did he yell at you?”
“yeah. thought i was lying because you told him i was. called me a shit friend and a liar until i showed him proof. why am i the only one you treat like this?”
“you’re definitely not the—“ you reach for your phone again, but she’s quicker than you. pushing you away and laughing at your lockscreen, which was a picture you’d taken of yourself. one you felt incredibly confident in. all of that confidence was withering away slowly and you could guess it’d only been 10 minutes. “only one.”
“that’s so much worse. seriously, i don’t have time for this today. i’ll just go home.” you sniffle and fail to hide it. the tears were in the back of your throat and you felt like her personal rag doll all over again. what you’d finally gotten away from the last week was haunting you all over again. her taunting, her rudeness. she knew what she was doing and she didn’t even care.
“are you gonna cry? am i making you cry?”
you gulp, biting your lip to fight the shakiness in your voice. “just give it back.” is all you can muster up. her arm stretches up and as you reach for it she tucks it in her back pocket and sits on it.
you feel the tears begin to spill out of your eyes and you quickly turn around and lean into the couches arm. hands over your face as you pathetically attempt to calm yourself. you feel a hand on your shoulder and you push it away before realizing it’s ellie handing you back your phone.
it takes you a couple blinks, convinced the tears have obstructed your vision. the very same ellie who’d tripped you in front of a crowd of people last month, was being nice? her face has softened, genuine concern replacing the taunting gaze she previously had. she places a hand on your back and shushes you.
“i’m sorry. i’ve never made you cry before, i’m sorry.” she speaks softly. she almost seems…confused? is this what it takes to get her to realize that what she does actually fucking hurts you? for you to break down in front of her? for her to get a peek at the silent nights you’d spent sobbing over another one of her “jokes”? all this time?
you wipe your eyes and begin to laugh, which startles her and causes her to lean back. “you’re such an ass, ellie. god, you’re such a fucking dick.” you shake your head and breathe. she doesn’t respond, just stares at you with concern. brows furrowed as she concentrates on your body language. the way you’re leaning closer towards her.
“today was such a bad day.” you cry out in frustration, dipping your head into her lap. you just lay there, sobbing. she doesn’t move you, but instead rubs your back. shushing you. whispering that it’ll be okay, and you’d never admit it because it was coming from her, but you really needed it in that moment.
she pulled you in closer to her, turning you onto your side so she can rub her thumb across your cheek. wiping some of your tears away. you begin to cry even harder, but she doesn’t push you away. even when her pants are soaked and snotty. she lets you lay there, and cry into her.
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spaghettiposts · 5 months
Text
Unspoken Truths
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Summery: You and Wanda have been friends for years, but never once has she showed up at your doorstep in this state. Pregnant, alone, and hurt. You take her in and you both dive into the difficulties of pregnancy, and hiding feelings.
Warnings: Pregnancy, Dickhead Vision, Friends to lovers, Attempts at comedy, Reader being a sweetheart like always, Mutual Pinning, Faint talks of Abortion, talks of nausea and vomiting.
Words: 4k
There was a knock at the door. Which was weird since it was- what time was it? 
Your arm reached for your phone resting on the bedside table. 2:04 am. Your brows furrowed in confusion, feeling discomfort. Who would be knocking at your door at 2 in the morning? Wiping your eyes you rose to your feet, questioning if this was really worth getting up for. 
Slowly you found your courage, and a baseball bat in your hands. You stumbled through the hallway, trying to wake yourself up to face the potential threat at your door. You felt like you were walking right into a classic horror scene, was it Ghostface maybe? Nah he’d call, you think. 
Through the peephole you saw the last person you’d ever expect at this ungodly hour.
“Wanda?” You yawned, hand still on the door. “It’s 2 in the morn- Woah.” You grunted in surprise as her arms wrapped around your waist, instinctively you wrapped your arms around her too. Your surprise quickly shifted into concern at her small sniffles, the brunette tightly gripping at your shirt. “Wanda? What’s wrong?”
The girl in your arms said nothing, merely shaking her head against your shirt. You took that as your cue to close the door behind you, leading Wanda inside. Not once did you separate from her, allowing her to cling onto you. Despite the circumstances you couldn’t help the blush from rising. 
Unfortunately you don’t dwell on how nice it feels to be hugging Wanda, not now, not when she’s still crying. Removing an arm around her, you place it on the small of her back. “Why don’t we go sit on the couch?” 
It’s then that Wanda realizes her current position, she takes a shuddering breath, agreeing with a nod of her head. You ignore the flutter in your chest from the way her grip tightened on your forearm as you lead the way. 
When you sit on the couch Wanda follows suit, sitting a safe distance away from you. You figure she’s composing her thoughts from the way she plays with the rings on her fingers. 
Without thinking you reach for her hand, missing the way her breath hitches from the contact. “What’s wrong Wanda? You can tell me.” 
The brunette looks up at you through tearful eyes, she only feels herself tear up further by the look you give her. An adoring look, a soft comforting smile. It hurts to look at, it hurts even more when your eyebrows furrow. 
“You don’t have to talk about it if it’s bothering you so much…” You add, she’s quick to wipe her eyes and take a deep breath.
“Y/n, I’m pregnant.” She sighs out, feeling some relief. She cringes at the way your eyes widen in surprise. Now you were certainly awake.
Out of all the things Wanda would say, that was certainly not one you would’ve predicted. Pregnant. Of course you could see Wanda being a mom but you recalled her mentioning how she’d like to finish college first.
Clearly…that didn’t happen.
“I just found out.” Wanda let out one of many sighs to come, rubbing her swollen eyes with her hoodie sleeves. She leaned back on the couch, giving you a forced smile.
You remained flabbergasted. Pregnant.
Wanda was pregnant. And came to you. For comfort? Advice? A secret revelation that your love for her was strong enough to get her pregnant? That last one was still part of your sleepy brain talking. 
You had many questions, the most important one was where was the father? You assumed Vision was the father, at least. Even if part of you didn’t like that idea so much. 
Taking in consideration how the brunette arrived at your house, with red bloodshot eyes, and tear stains on her cheeks from crying so much. You worded your next question carefully. “I’m assuming it’s bad?”
A watery laugh escapes her lips, she shakes her head in disbelief. “Bad is an understatement.” And although she’s laughing, her eyes continue to water until she’s tired of pretending everything’s going okay. Her crying turns to sobs, leaning against you for support again. This time you don’t disconnect, letting her rest her weight on you.
You stare up at the ceiling, Wanda laying on your chest having fallen fast asleep. The couch is comfortable enough to make you feel better, but not enough to silence your worries for the woman on top of you. Unsure of what to think you simply conclude it’s best if you don’t, not right now. 
Letting out a deep breath, you close your eyes, tightening your arms around the girl.
Tomorrow, tomorrow you could talk about it.
/-/
It was tomorrow, and you were dreading talking about it. It’s not even yours, chill out, you reminded yourself. First thing you woke up to was an empty couch, with just you laying on it. Where was Wanda?  Rubbing your eyes to wake up fully you noticed the small sticky note on your arm. 
Turning it around revealed Wanda’s whereabouts.
I wanted to make you breakfast, so I went to the market. Your pantry sucks ♥️ 
Okay, breakfast. You loved Wanda’s meals, you figured the least you could do was clean up the kitchen for her. Forcing yourself to get up you threw your arms over your head, letting your back pop. Looking towards the kitchen in all honesty it didn’t look too bad. 
Just some pots that needed to be cleaned, remove the grease. A bag of flour on the counter…you didn’t quite remember why and how that was there. And a sock on the stovetop, you held it up in disgust. When did that get there? 
Feeling embarrassed for yourself, you got to work. Quickly. Socks were placed in the hamper. Flour, back in the pantry in its designated compartment. Then you dropped some flour, falling all over yourself and the items around you.
“Great…” you muttered, eying all the powder on the floor. 
Sweeping it is. 
Aside from the mess, and making more of a mess things went quite smoothly. You were satisfied with your work, the kitchen looked like a kitchen again. However pots still remained, making quick work of them you rinsed them off. 
Not noticing how the front door opened and a certain brunette looked your way. She smiled fondly at the small cusses you let out, shaking your hand from the hot water. Carefully she placed down all the grocery bags, a little louder than she intended.
“Oh shit!” You gasped, dropping the pot. “Wanda! You scared me.” You chuckled, turning off the tap, you could finish washing that later.
“You bought a lot…” You pointed out, drying your hands. Six paper bags were on the table, you were very glad you took time to clean it. 
Wanda snorted, unloading the frozen products from one bag. “Y/n you didn’t even have tomatoes. Absolutely no produce.” 
You rolled your eyes. You never cooked much, tomatoes would’ve gone bad under your care. Wanda on the other hand lived for cooking. A perfect balance in your opinion, she could cook, and you could taste. You walked over, taking the frozen foods from her hands to put them away, ignoring the pointed look.
She muttered something about your organizational skills—lack of. Probably a complaint.
“How much was it?” You asked from the freezer.
Does cheese go in there?
“It’s on me.” She shrugged, opening the onions and placing them in the basket. Her nose crinkled watching you attempt to be useful, gently her fingers wrapped around your wrist, taking the cheese away and putting it in the fridge. 
You let out a shaky exhale from the contact, watching her walk away. Shaking off the feeling you remember her words, scrunching your face. “No Wanda, how much?”  Pulling out your wallet you handed her $120 “Here.”
Wanda laughed, pushing your hand away “No. It’s on me. For last night.”
“Seriously?” You scoffed not believing it, waving the money at her. If she wouldn’t take it you knew you’d have to put it in her purse when she wasn’t looking. Like usual. “Well at least let me cook if you’re not gonna take it.”
“I said I was making breakfast!” She whined. Cute.
You pouted at your friend, stuffing your hands in your pockets. “Yeah but I want to do something…”
Wanda smiled, placing a hand on your forearm. “You’ve done enough for me.” She said, leaning up to place a small peck on your cheek. “Thank you Y/n.”
Your breath caught in your throat, knowing you didn’t win this battle. Of course not, she cheated, but she didn’t know that. She’s with Vision, having no clue of the effects she has on you. You still felt hot on the inside, and were probably blushing on the outside too.
Damnit Y/n pull it together, she’s pregnant and needs your support. Not your gayness.
Once everything was put away, mainly Wanda doing the work and correcting whatever you did wrong. She pushed you down on the chair, telling you to sit while she cooked. Then you could talk, talk.
Right, the talk.
Fuck. 
You wondered why you were still so nervous. Around Wanda? Well that one was given. But a pregnant Wanda? That felt…odd. Nevertheless you gave her, her space not wanting to overwhelm the pregnant person. 
She didn’t look pregnant…obviously. She just found out…hasn't even been a month. God was it hot in this room? Or were you just sweating? Nervous. 
“It is Visions.” You turned your head to look at Wanda. She spoke calmly with a tense figure. She flipped the bacon, turning her eyes to you. “And- You know I didn’t want…kids right now but things happen. We’ve talked about it before and Vision said he’d love that.”
You tilted your head, knowing there was more to it.
She let out a shaky breath “After college, he's still building his business a-and he said he doesn’t have time to raise a family. He wants nothing to do with them but I-“
“Abortion isn’t…?”
“No.” She said firmly, turning off the stove, using her sleeves to wipe her blurred eyes. “Your bacon might be a little salty by the way.” She smiled sadly, handing you a plate with two pancakes.
Seeing past the smile, you squeezed her arm in understanding, grabbing the plate from her hands. She sat down across from you, eating from her own plate giving you the opportunity to do the same. 
“These are great Wands.” You mumbled after swallowing your food, wiping your mouth. “You’d be a good mom.” Digging your fork into the pancakes for more. They were truly delicious, you don’t think you’d ever get used to how spectacular she made them. 
Wanda gave you a scrunched look, a sheepish smile on her lips. “You’re just saying that.” She shrugged it off, ignoring the way it made her feel.
“I'm not though. You’re kind, patient, compassionate, giving, and understanding. Aren't those motherly qualities?” You teased, though your tone remained reassuring. 
Still Wanda remained in disbelief, shaking her head lightly letting out a breathy laugh “I’m just not sure where to go from here. I’m keeping them.” She stared at you, seriously, as if you would try to change her mind. 
“But that’s all I know.” She rubbed her head with her hands, feeling frustrated. She had no plan.
You reached over for Wanda’s hand, rubbing soft circles with your thumb. “It’s okay, we can figure it out together.”
Her mouth curved into a smile, looking at both of your hands. Together, that was a nice word. Then she took in what you said, her head tilting to the side. “We?”
Wanda’s smile turned into a teasing one, as you stammered over your words, tensing your hand from their ministrations. “Well yeah I mean since Vision isn’t really in the picture and you shared the apartment with him I’m assuming- offering if you wanted to stay with me.” You bit the inside of your cheek.
Smooth.  
“It was just a thought I had…” You finished, feeling intimidated by her gaze. Your heart pounded against your chest, waiting for her answer. You had basically just proposed she move in with you, with a kid. Like couples do. With a kid. 
The more you thought about it the more you wanted her to say yes. You wanted to care for her, god knows she needed it. An idea came into your head about rearranging the guest bedroom into Wanda’s, only if she said yes- god we’re getting ahead of ourselves what if she says n-
“Yes.” She blurted, squeezing your hand in excitement, a little harder than intended. 
“Wait- yes?”
“Yes! Oh my god yes,” She practically squealed, standing up from her seat to pace. “I mean I was also thinking about where I’d go…I’m not ready to tell my parents, you know how they feel about pregnancy before marriage, and Pietro already knows but he’s barely thriving.” She gestured with her hands, clasping them together and looking at you expectantly.
You nodded, growing even more excited with her. “Then it’s settled, you’ll stay here.” You beamed up at the brunette. She was quick to pull you out of your chair with a toothy grin, pulling you into a hug. 
You both sighed at the contact, holding each other tighter. 
“Thank you, again.” She mumbled, nuzzling further into your neck. You could only smile, what else could you do? This girl was amazing, you squeezed her back in response. 
“It’s no problem, I’d love having you here. And the kid, or kids? Wouldn’t it be crazy if you had twins- worse triplets.” You mumbled to yourself, Wanda giggled.
Maybe Wanda would need help moving in. Getting her stuff, avoiding Vision. You thought to yourself about skipping work for the day- maybe a week. The guest bedroom had the essentials, but not anything baby related…
As you continued rambling on about the move, Wanda sighed, tugging you closer with a loving smile on her face. Then it dawned on her, was she in love with her best friend? Her eyes widened at the realization, trying to bury her panic and listen to your voice instead. 
You raised a hand to your chin, not noticing how tense she had become. “I think I could skip work today and go to the hardware store. We might need a crib, the guest bedroom is yours but the baby gosh it needs its space too-“ 
/-/
The move had gone smoothly, a little too smoothly. Wanda insisted you stay outside the door to Visions apartment while she took care of things. Reluctantly you agreed standing outside waiting, only coming in when Wanda signaled for you to come in. 
His apartment was quite nice, you could see why Wanda liked it so much. Unsurprisingly his home was decorated with small luxuries, perks of being a Stark.
Boxes after boxes went by packed, you insisted Wanda do the lighter loads, not wanting her to hurt her back. And before noon all of Wanda’s stuff was ready to go, no Vision in sight. He must’ve been busy today, Wanda only muttering something about his Chess club. 
Not wanting to stay any longer you packed up the truck, heading to your place. So in short, yes, everything was going great. Wanda made herself an even more important figure in your life, you didn’t think that was possible. Although she had a way of proving you wrong.
She fell quickly into your daily routine, and so easily too. Every morning she’d make you coffee for work, and when she was feeling sick you made her breakfast in return. Wanda had been getting sick a lot more than usual, you assumed it was morning sickness. If only you had realized sooner how bad it had gotten. 
Wanda could not sleep.
There were days when she’d have nightmares as a kid that prevented her from sleeping, often nightmares of a bomb being dropped on her house. Nights waiting up for Vision where she couldn’t sleep in hopes he’d return soon. Many times in her life Wanda found it difficult to sleep, this time the horrors of pregnancy guiding her to insomnia.
Until she felt that familiar feeling again, nausea. Quickly she threw the covers off herself, booking it towards the bathroom. Wanda was so grateful your guest bedroom had a bathroom connected to it, it had given her more privacy and spared her the embarrassment.
Her fingertips barely grazed on the door to close it before she was kneeling on the floor by the toilet, emptying the compartments in her stomach.
Hunched over on the toilet she didn’t realize how much time had passed, time passed slowly for her during this part. All she remembered was the door creaking a little and her hair being collected into a ponytail.
Wanda swore she could hear your voice, she preferred to focus on how nice your hand felt rubbing on her back, how soothing it felt. Your touch brought her back, wiping the side of her lips she turned to meet your concerned eyes. 
Only turning more concerned by the look of exhaustion Wanda held. Words weren’t necessary to communicate where Wanda would be staying that night, or any other nights. Really, as Wanda was pulled up to her feet, and guided to your bedroom she found herself unwilling to care. You kissed her forehead so tenderly whispering goodnight that made Wanda realize it wasn’t so bad.
Sleeping in your arms was worth a little sickness. 
/-/
“Twins.” You heard Wanda mutter from beside, laying on the bed. You couldn’t quite decipher her tone, but her squeeze on your hand made you feel uneasy. Not wanting to overwhelm her, you decided to keep silent, biting the inside of your cheek. 
Weeks had flown by pretty fast, Wanda being on her 15th. Poor girl was already feeling the pain of carrying not one but two kids in her stomach. She’d often ask you to hold her stomach which you easily complied too. 
The doctor turned in his chair, away from the monitor looking at you both with a grin. “Yep! Looks like two healthy babies, would you like to know the gender?” He asked.
Your eyes glanced at Wanda, her face indifferent. Thankfully you caught the slight quiver of her lips letting you know all you needed to. 
“Uh no. Thank you Doctor Stephen but I think” She squeezed your hand again. “…we’re fine for now.” You mustered up a polite smile. 
He nodded his head, mirroring the same smile “Of course! I’ll just go put this in your file and clean things up then you’re good to go.” He tossed his gloves in the bin, finally leaving you two alone. 
You sucked your teeth, hearing the door click shut. Knowing Wanda, she was never used to change even though throughout her childhood all the brunette did was suffer through it. She liked to be in control, prepared for what to expect.
Now it seemed you were expecting two. 
You let out a small noise as your back hit the chair next to her side. Deciding to break the silence, you spoke calmly, “So twins, I guess that means we might need another crib.”
Her eyes only twitched in response, barely acknowledging the way you tried to subtly cheer her up. Make her feel this wasn’t a sudden change she wasn’t prepared for. The thought of another kid shook Wanda, it made her feel nervous. She fidgeted from her place, picking at the bedsheets.
Wanda shook her head, letting out a sigh. She took her hand off yours, using them to rub her temple. “God I- this wasn’t supposed to happen. Y/n I-“ Her throat closed up, she hated the way her immediate response was to cry, tears starting to prickle at her eyes. She hated even more how your face softened, “I can barely fathom one kid, now I’m supposed to mother two.” 
Her head hung lowly as small tears started to stream down her cheeks. Not wanting you to see her that way she tried her best to turn away only for you to grab her cheeks with both hands, thumbs rubbing soft circles against her skin. Wanda let out a choked sob, staring at you so hopelessly. The sight broke your heart.
“Wanda hey, it’s okay.” You whispered.
“No Y/n I just-  two. That’s two new people coming into your home, and me included- I can’t do this to you. You don’t deserve it.” She croaked out, sniffling between words.
You scrunch your face in protest, giving her a stern shake of your head. “Wanda you’ve always been welcome in my home, pregnant or not and it’s not just mine now it’s yours too. I want to help you.” You affirmed, moving your hands to wipe at her tears before coming down to hold her own.
“Why?” She asked.
“Because I care about you, and I love you.” You confessed, the words coming out with more meaning than you intended. Wanda stared up at you in adoration, her eyes crinkling, and a small blush dusting her cheeks. It was then you noticed how close you were, how close Wanda's face was to your own. Feeling overwhelmed by her stare, you looked away, taking a couple steps back. “And I love them too, whatever they are…”
Missing the disappointed look on her face.
Leaning back into the bed, Wanda turns her head to look at you, and if you were looking back you would’ve seen the loving look on her face “I really don’t deserve a friend like you.” She said softly, her voice so fragile.
Then you turned back this time, meeting her gaze, her words registering in your head. Quickly your face turned into a frown, “Don’t say that.”
Ignoring your words Wanda took a hold of your hand. A gesture that came so naturally now, both of you latching onto each other, wanting to feel one another. “I love you too, so much detka.” 
More than you realize.
/-/
“Y/n.” Wanda murmured hurriedly, shaking at your arm. “Detka, wake up.”
Letting out a snort, you woke up with a cough, turning away to cover yourself. Your eyes fluttered wide open, wrestling with the sheets in a panic, “Huh? Yeah- Wands? What's wrong, are they here?”
A small smile crept up her lips at the mention of the twins, “No silly, I'm just…hungry again.” She whispered, turning away from your gaze in embarrassment.
“Again?” You clarified.
“Yeah…sorry.” She chuckled awkwardly.
Leaning on your elbows for support you lifted yourself up, sitting up. Scratching the back of your head you turned to look at your clock. Naturally it was 2 am, usually the time when Wanda would get hungry. 
“No, no, that's fine.” You muttered hoarsely, clearing your throat. “I don’t mind, what are you craving?” 
“Steves burgers…” She beamed.
“Steves? Okay I’ll get you some, with onions or without?” You said as you walked towards the closet, shrugging on your jacket. 
“With, and grilled please.”
“Okay, yeah.” You hummed, slipping on your shoes. “I’ll uh be back try to get some sleep yeah? It's pretty late.” Kneeling up from the floor you reached for your wallet, stuffing it in your pockets. 
Wanda made a disagreeing grunt but pulled the sheets back on herself anyway. “I guess.”
You nodded, giving her a sheepish smile. Grabbing your keys from the nightstand you made your way to the door, a small tug on your jacket stopping you. Curiously you turned around to meet Wanda, tilting your head in question. Her hand traveled up your forearm, pulling you down to press a lingering kiss on your cheek.  
“Stay safe, and put on your glasses when you drive. Your astigmatism gets bad at this hour.” She husked out, letting you go. 
Your breath catches in your throat, not trusting your words you nod again. Stumbling through a few items you rush towards the door, leaving with a small goodbye unsure why Wanda was teasing you. What was that?
/-/
“Hey.” You said, a surprised look on your face as you closed the door behind you. Wanda gave a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes from the dimly lit dining room. She was sitting comfortably in the chair, wearing one of your hoodies.
“Hi.”
“What are you doing out of bed? You should be resting, it’s really late.” Checking at the clock once again you confirmed your suspicions, you assumed perhaps she’d enjoy her burger in bed like she always does. This time however Wanda had different plans, fiddling with her sleeves.
“You know I can’t sleep without you.” She retorted, gazing into your eyes “I like it when you’re here.” She confesses profoundly.
You give her a sheepish smile, unsure what to say. The look in her eyes does nothing but make you even more nervous, what was going on with her? “I like it when you’re here too. Is everything okay?” 
Wanda lets out a sigh, you choose to ignore it thinking she’s probably starving by now. You place the plastic bag on the table, taking out the bags and giving Wanda her burger. A number 2 with grilled onions, two pickles, and no cheese. “And I got you these.” You slide the container to her.
Wanda gives you a questioning look before opening it, she lets out a gasp when she does. Animal style fries. The annoyed quirk of her eyebrows long gone. Closing the lid she gives you a thankful pout, her eyes glossing.  “Thank you…”
“I got you a strawberry milkshake too since I know you like dipping them with the animal fries.” You chuckled, putting the glass on the table. 
That’s when Wanda wanted to cry, cry pathetically into her perfect burger brought by your perfect, kind, compassionate self. Instead she tossed the burger aside and pulled you in for a passionate kiss. Your eyes widened in surprise, but pressed back with the same intensity, quickly melting into the kiss. 
Wanda sighing against your lips easily became your new favorite sound, eager to get her to make more, your hands coming up to cup her face. Eventually you realize that this isn’t just any girl, but your best friend. Your best friend who you’d have been crushing on for years, your best friend who just kissed you.
She kissed you.
And you almost break the kiss by how much you’re smiling but Wanda beats you to it, leaving lingering kisses on your lips, slowing the pace until her forehead is against yours. “I’m in love with you Y/n.”
Your breath hitches “M-Me too.”
Wanda shakes her head, moving to nuzzle against your collarbone. “No detka, as in more than just a friend.” She says, reminded of your previous statements on what friends do. Fuck being friends, you wanted Wanda. Wanted to show her how good of a partner you could be.
“So you like me?” You asked shyly, still processing the revelation.
Wanda picked up her head from your shoulder, correcting you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. ���Love you.”
You swallowed dryly, feeling your heart race. “That's great- thats- I.”
“Just kiss me already.” She orders breathlessly, barely giving you time to mutter ‘okay’ before your lips are on hers again. 
It's not until the morning when you both come downstairs, lovesick smiles on your faces, that you realize the mess you left behind. Both burgers remain uneaten, but as your eyes glance down to yours and Wanda's intertwined fingers, you could care less. 
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wandagcre · 5 months
Text
push it for the pleasure | wanda maximoff 🔞
(College!Perv!Bestfriend Wanda Maximoff x Innocent!Fem Reader)
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Wanda’s perverted thirst gets the best of her. You were irresistible and simply for her taking. And what does she do? She doesn’t resist. Instead, Wanda feeds the gnawing, filthy, and hungry monster inside of her by having her way with you even while you’re unconscious.
WARNING: heavy dubcon/noncon themes, fingering, perverted actions such as implied stealing undies, staring, touching and taking nonconsensual nudes, daddy kink (W), corruption kink, somnophilia | 18+ men & minors dni. Words: 3.6k Note: part of the perv!wanda series. you can consider it as a backstory that happened before this oneshot ;)
[perv!wanda series] | [masterlist]
Wanda had an affinity for your tedious nature. Whether it comes down to your personal interests or university workload; not solely rooted by your clear determination written in your adorable face that she admires, but rather, how it leaves you exhausted to your very bones. Tired meant the manifestations of neglect — one that left you comfortable on your bed as the aftermath. 
You were so lucky to have her, not only Wanda has slid a bottle of water or a snack on your side, but on a good day with a less constricting schedule of hers, she's got the privilege of pressing firm around the strained muscles of your shoulder — feeling you succumb into the comfort and her ears being rewarded of your soft moans.
 
A purr escaped your mouth. "That feels so good Wands..." Your body slumped in a relaxed state.
Wanda bit her lip at the innocent play of your words. "Anything for you, dorogaya. Do you want me to press harder?"
"Ah... yes, if- if it's alright with you," came a meek response out of your lips. 
Wanda knew the effect of her native language on you. She couldn't help but lightly pinch your burning cheeks.
As Wanda kneaded the kinks out of your tired muscles, she couldn't help but thirst for more. The tendency of her insatiable want when it comes to you only grows impossibly bigger every day. Whether it was her dying need to touch you or your attention fixated on her - Wanda needs it all.
"It would be better if you took off your shirt. It’s more direct and effective," She murmured at the shell of your ear. Excitement coursed through Wanda's body as you squirmed in your seat.
You turn your head to the side in question. "Wouldn't that be too much of your time?"
"Nonsense. I love doing this for you."
Wanda wolfishly grinned as she saw you eventually nod in agreement.
Oh, you were so pliant and ready for her.
Your bestfriend had to stop her scandalous thoughts of wanting to bite and mark your back as you undressed your top in front of her. She admires the view of your back and its dimples, her mouth-watering and well-awareness of how soft they were. Wanda didn't waste any time on touching you — the breathy innocent moans and soft tilts of your head as you succumbed to her touch whenever Wanda hit a satisfying spot made her mind go haywire. Her thumb applying pressure over the bottom of your trapezius; just where your nape rests upon particularly was a sweet spot. 
You looked lost; wrapped in complete bliss. 
"Can I touch you whenever?"
"Like this?" 
"Yes," Wanda doesn't miss a beat. It was risky and ambiguous, and so she adds, "I love your skin and how soft it is under my touch. It’s so… comforting.”
She decides to take more than she should've and ran her hand across the expanse of your back to caress — how you shivered was hard to go amiss for the woman. 
You know nothing can go wrong especially when it's Wanda. She's the best at attending to your needs, a thought that mildly scared you of how attuned she was, but you knew it was always rooted in benevolence and affection.
Therefore, you couldn't help but recall how come this woman stuck out negatively to other people — having alleged issues of her temperament combined with her altruistic nature. They felt nothing more than a made-up childish rumor in the playground to you as to how Wanda easily conversed with you on that first week when you'd approached her brazenly.
Wanda had figured it out not so long ago; how the double-edged sword trait of yours was how you always believed to see the goodness in the people first. It was a debatable display of strength and flaw.
Besides, you liked having her attention for some reason. Wanda's perfect smile was often so reassuring for you, effortlessly putting you at ease.
"Okay, Wands." was your good-humored reply. Your bestfriend couldn't help but press her lips against the top of your head. You smelled wonderful. Wanda really couldn’t get enough of you.
Your unwavering blind faith-filled Wanda with so much pride.
The cherry on top of it all was how Wanda has taken care of your pretty princess parts; one between your legs and the occasional massages on your breasts. 
It was so easy. 
Wanda thrived on seeing your beautiful irises filled with innocence and gleam as you met her mischievous emerald ones. You've given her the opportunity of a lifetime and she intends to relish every given chance that she can get. It took her baby steps to get here – once she figured out where your affection levels lay, she initiated simple touches – whether it was a hug, tugging you close to her proximity, or now her intentions that stood morally corrupt; Wanda will find a way to accidentally brush against your private parts.
While you lay on one of her arms, Wanda gently ran her fingers through your soft cheeks as you faced her. She soaked in the sweet smell of your shampoo and the distinguishable scent of yours that Wanda could not get enough of. You looked angelic and waiting to be cherished. Soon enough, Wanda seeks for another type of comfort; her hands descending underneath your shirt, tiptoeing almost, with an unstoppable grin on her face — two fingers pushing under the band of your bra. 
"Daddy's here. She'll always be here for you. I'm going to take care of you, dorogaya." Wanda whispered voice lilted with pure desire before her naughty hand came to cup one of your breasts. The recessed night glow that came from your dorm’s window was the only source of light, her actions being done in the darkness amplified the thrill in Wanda’s actions.
A suppressed moan came out of her lips. God, you were so fucking full — supple and fitted perfectly to her palm. One squeeze was followed by a dozen more that inevitably led to pinching and enclosed her fingers from your areola to your now perked tip. 
"All for Daddy..." 
Her thumb came to play for more, in circular motions around your nipple. Your breathing pattern was nuanced although still haven't shown clear evidence of you waking up anytime soon. Wanda rolled the sleeves of her sweatshirt, knowing she had a whole night ahead of her.
Eventually, it wasn't enough. She needed more. 
And so Wanda will make sure to get more. 
Careful not to wake you, she pulls out her arm that served as your pillow from earlier. You now lay on your back, still unphased, Wanda raised the hem of your shirt to reveal your indoor bra. Her eyes darkened at how pure and dainty you were presented in front of her, your blemishes and moles make up a beautiful constellation in Wanda's eyes.
Because of this, she's somewhat still in disbelief at your admission that no one has taken you yet.
But fret not, Wanda thought, because she's here and she's certain that you won't need anyone else other than her anytime soon.
"Daddy's going to play with you dorogaya, trust that it will be so much fun."
Wanda carefully rolls and pushes up your bra and now reveals your delectable breasts, cushiony and hanging free. This simply calls for another photoshoot. 
She quickly retrieved the Polaroid camera that was atop your nightstand, just beside her rings. She's always brought it for a good reason.
Wanda had three subjects; one was nature and the other was you and no one else. What can she say? you've got her wrapped on your finger as much as she does over you. Her last subject was more risqué and controversial, it was still you — although it was a special one — meant for Wanda's eyes alone.
Wanda had placed her lips on your buttery soft breasts and wet them as she suctioned, her tongue coming into play to swirl them around. Her open-mouthed sucks and kisses filled your skin with red and purple marks. Wanda almost had a heart attack at the hoarse, high-pitched timber, a little trait of yours that you randomly let out before you sleepily stretched your limbs. 
You were so cute.
"Dorogaya? Dorogaya..." Wanda hummed in a sing-song, checking if you were still unconscious. 
Once sure that you're in deep sleep again, Wanda doesn't waste a moment to point her camera at your goodies — another one of the latest artworks she had done over you.
Soon as Wanda wrapped up and brought your bra and shirt in its unrattled state, here she was — pensive and debating whether she should ruin your pussy next.
Her greed over you took over with ease. Quickly, Wanda gathers her cascading hair in her hand and ties it up. She masterfully tugged down your shorts and as it reached your ankle, threw it away somewhere in your room. You even wore the red socks she gave you years ago! Wanda swooned at the cute sight. She caressed gently the expanse of your smooth legs where childhood scars and a few more moles came into better view. 
You weren't wet just yet, of course. Wanda immediately wanted to change that and feel the heat you've been hiding away from her — to feel you around her fingers. 
"You're so ready for Daddy, dorogaya. You don't know how much I want to eat you right now... to get a taste directly from its source, my tongue against your pretty and puffy pussy," Wanda knew you couldn't hear her, but it doesn't stop the wanton monologues of her feverish desires over you. "You're just for Daddy, aren't you?" She ran her fingers sultrily across your lower tummy, down to your pelvis.
It simply made her journey worthwhile. She somewhat wanted to communicate how fuckable your virgin self was for her. It was no longer the case as crossed this bridge a few months ago, but her filthy soul relished in corrupting you — with Wanda in complete control and taking you.
Luckily for Wanda, you've raised one of your legs — caught in a folded position, enough for her to pry you open. 
Setting your ribbon-designed undies aside, Wanda’s mouth watered at your inner walls coming into view that she could not help herself and immediately inserted two fingers inside of your velvety walls. 
"Fuck, you're so warm for Daddy!" Wanda rasps out, her body burning. As though in a cue in response, you huskily moaned in your sleep as well. "You love this, don't you? This won't take long, don't worry, dorogaya..."
Your bed rocked and creaked slowly, as Wanda fucked you asleep. The wetness came pouring and coated her until she was knuckle-deep in you. She stretched your now sopping hole, and the breathy moans tumbled out of your pretty lips now and then.
How you did not wake up yet was a miraculous thing for her.
Before Wanda gets carried away in roughly fingering you enough to rouse you out of your consciousness, she pumps and curls her fingers inside of you once more before reaching for her camera. She spreads your inner thighs apart — the viscous wetness that she loved to see was there. The repeated clicks reverberated and the white flashes of her camera came in the knowing four walls of your dorm.
She even inspects your wetness, rubbing and playing with them with her pinched forefinger and thumb.
A wicked smile breaks out of her in glee and satisfaction as Wanda admires for a moment the mess she has made; successful once again as she looks at the polaroid photos she recently took of you.
She pressed a soft kiss on your temple. "You did so well for Daddy."
Almost half an hour later, you wake up confused. You were wet — your cheeks burned. This was becoming a frequent occurrence and you were too old to pee in the bed. You're more than sure that your bladder was well-adjusted. But was there anything else that was wrong with you down there? You tightly crossed your legs.
Wanda appeared from your bathroom. Right, she stayed the night. She was beautiful even if the constant turning in bed had ruffled her appearance. Although, there were much more pressing matters — this is nothing but humiliating for you, surely this spot did not go amiss for your best friend...
"What’s the matter?" Wanda approaches your side. 
You were hesitant, quick to try pushing her away. "Don't come close! I'm wet... I don't know how it happened. Goodness, I know for a fact I didn’t pee myself. Or did I?"
"You did not, dorogaya. Dummy, it was my fault." Wanda gave out a hearty chuckle at your immovable confusion. 
"How was it your fault?"
"I spilled my drink on the bed," Wanda played with your hair and you immediately folded. You were so easy to please. "I was just about to wake you so you can change your shorts and underwear."
You let out another relieved sigh. You were happy to know that it wasn’t your bladder acting up.
"Oh, that kinda explains it. But I think it wasn't your drink that caused this the other nights…”
“Other nights?” Wanda echoed in feigned confusion.
“I-I often find myself wet down there," You confided to Wanda who nodded attentively.
Like a lightbulb moment, Wanda seemed to understand. "It's normal. Our vagina does it by nature, as a way of cleaning itself. It's called a discharge, dorogaya."
As you digest Wanda’s words, confidently assuring you, you take one of her hands and lace it with yours — giving it a comforting squeeze.
"I don't know what I would do without you, Wands. All this time I thought something was wrong with me." You nervously chuckled, beyond glad that the case was sorted out.
"That's why I'll always be here for you." Wanda shoots you a pearly smile. She tilted her head, "Now, why don't you change your clothes?" She brought her other hand that carried your clean panties and shorts. 
Though you were grateful, embarrassment filled you again as you took it from Wanda with your head down and moved away from to bed to start changing.
Wanda sat quietly at your bed and peered curiously over your timid movements. Unbeknownst to you, she was waiting for whether you'd instruct her to look away as you strip down your ruined shorts and undies. She orchestrated the whole thing after her secret session with you, after all.
"C-Can you look away for a bit, Wands?" You requested, but your timid voice cracked in the process.
Wanda raised an eyebrow. "We have the same parts, dorogaya. Besides, I also change in front of you – why does it matter?" She counters and you can't rebut anything else because it is the truth. "I won't judge you. I'm just... impatient to cuddle with you again."
There isn't harm in it, you suppose. Wanda has always been there for you and has proven herself worthy of your trust. So, you affectionately smile at Wanda's needy self.
Your whole back view almost faced your bestfriend, much to her delight — only that her jaw slacked as she got a brief glimpse of your bare ass. Wanda was certain that it was buttery soft just as your hypnotizing breasts were. 
You saw the clear, gooey, and viscous substance that left a mark in the center of your underwear. Your face curled up in a slight grimace. Even if you knew better about it now — all thanks to Wanda — it was somehow still icky for you to look at.
Wanda hands the clean replacements and before you can tug up your new shorts, she pulls you in her direction unexpectedly and brash to your liking.
"Wands– what?" Wanda didn't speak, touched you gently as though you were going to break. Her hand remained on your hips. 
"Hush now, dorogaya. I need to check something." Her tone sounded serious so you let her. Although it felt too intimate, blood immediately came rushing to your ears and cheeks. "I think you need to replace some of them..." 
You try to protest out of timidness, "But—"
"Let me inspect you first. Promise I'll be gentle. It won't be weird," Wanda gave you a condescending smile and you easily caved in.
You feel Wanda everywhere in your body. Her touch was electric on your lower back, the other was too close to your private parts — all wandering. Wanda's fingers came to trace underneath the garter of your underwear. From your pelvis to your innermost thighs, you almost closed your legs shut in reflex.
The air felt ambiguously thick.
Her hands continue to roam around the material — excruciatingly, it was underneath your buttcheek and the pubis area especially, where Wanda’s hands gravitate and wander back onto — doing motions as though smoothening it out.
You let out a sharp inhale and your stomach twitches each time in sync.
"This shouldn't be too hard and tight for you. Not only does it leave marks, but it's uncomfortable, isn't it? The material also is too thin. It's bound to tear off soon." Wanda lists out and all you can think is holy shit, she's right. You weren't confident with your picks when you shopped for them, in all honesty.
"Yeah. I wasn't sure what to pick..." You admit with your eyes looking at your sock-covered feet and your hands clasped in shame.
Besides, you somehow keep on misplacing them. You were baffled by now because you were getting understocked with the amount of undies you had. Where have they all gone?
"Tell you what," Wanda calmly calls your attention and tilts your head up with her hand, "I'd take you to shop some and help you throughout the process so I can teach you too. Don't worry, it's all my treat dorogaya."
Your eyes beamed. You need as much help as you can. "You'll do that for me? But... isn't it too much? I can’t ask that of you.”
"I don't mind, it's not like we do it often. I’m personally offering." Wanda shrugged. She had a point. You'll stop her the next time she insists... maybe in return, you'll do something nice for her.
Sneakily, one of her hands that rested on your lower back descended to your ass cheeks and came in contact to slap them. You sharply gasped and flinched upon the sudden contact, giving Wanda an unamused look. You hoped that she wouldn't detect the fluster in your appearance underneath it.
You didn't understand how it was somewhat satisfying for you. It was a mere play, an act that was nothing more but to tease you — but it felt good against your ass.
You whisper-yelled, calling out her outrageous act.
"Wanda!"
She sports a mischievous smile, her perfect teeth biting down her lower lip. Wanda shook her head and finally raised her hands in defeat.
"Come on! I thrive on riling you up. It's essentially my duty. Now come back and get comfy here in bed. You deserve more sleep. I'll take care of these," She points to the clothes you stripped out of. "And no complaints. I don't mind, I've seen all of you now dorogaya."
"You will be the death of me."
"I love you too," She teasingly replied before disappearing into your view and the words of your best friend made your heart jump.
You groaned in the soft pillow in surrender although it was too much for you — you knew that Wanda's intentions were coming from a good place. She's nothing but thoughtful to you. Soon, the harmony of cold and warmth of your sheets and duvet became too comfortable. You have proven Wanda right and easily succumbed to sleep once again.
Meanwhile, Wanda gathers the polaroid photos she took just a few minutes ago. She closes the door and threw your shorts to the hamper. But your pretty and soaked underwear? It's coming with her.
With the still-damp material of your undies, Wanda strips out her bottoms and sat to the closed toilet seat. She places the fabric over her now exposed pussy; not wasting any time rubbing it against her wet cunt, starting slow, and even thrusting it inside to stimulate and tease her filthy fantasies of you even more. 
God, here she was, touching herself at the thought of you and the photos she had taken of your pretty princess parts. 
Wanda took a good look at it; albeit with much effort as her eyes were threatening to shut at the sensation. It was easy to recall her indecent touches — the feeling of your folds ridiculously soft and unearthly, stretching your labia so she can insert her fingers inside of your opening and how it sucked her in slowly — fuck, you were so tight!
These thoughts spurred Wanda to rub herself with harder pressure and dared to tug and play with her clit — all while covered with your soaked undies. It was somewhat rough against the vulnerable lines and ridges of her labia and provided the undeniably irresistible friction that she craved, doing it repeatedly until Wanda stretched herself out.
It was your cum coating her own pulsating and clenching pussy. She can't help but moan at the thought as she touches herself inside these four, cold walls. How Wanda can only wish instead of her fingers, it was your dainty ones. Even better, you're on your knees for her... eyes wide, expectant, and obedient to her orders. You always looked at her in a certain way that made her stomach flip in adoration and glee. In her filthiest imaginations, Wanda is calling the shots, ordering you to go flatten up your tongue like a good girl and to lap her faster—!
Wanda finally cums hard, a guttural low moan tumbling out of her lips. 
Fuck, she got so wet that it seeped out, the woman was sitting in her mess. Gripping and glancing at the jerking-off materials, she couldn't be more proud of herself today. 
Another for her beloved and favorite collection — all thanks to you. 
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