🏳️‍🌈Řïṣå🏳️‍🌈

all my works

Natasha Romanoff x Fem Reader

[You Come Home Late] Dark 18+

Sleepover (18+) Best Friend Natasha

Sleepover (18+) Part 2 Best Friend Natasha

Desires(18+)Stepmom Natasha x Fem Reader

Wanda Maximoff x Fem Reader

Step Mom Wanda x Step Daughter Fem Reader (18+)

Say it Properly (18+) Mean!Dom Wanda

Teasing (18+)Soft Dom Wanda x Fem Reader

Dinner (18+) Soft Dom Wanda

Attention (18+)StepMom Wanda x Step Daughter Fem Reader

Rebound (18+) Wanda Maximoff x Fem Reader

Home (18+) Wanda Maximoff x Fem Reader

UN)WANTED

Rebekah Mikaelson x Fem Reader

Mines to Keep

Gabrielle Sage x Fem Reader

Call

Harley Quinn x Fem Reader

Question Lists

List 1

Asks

1.What’s the age range you’re into for older women? just curious 👀

2.What toy do you own that you use the most?

3.How often do you actually masturbate in a week? Be honest.

4.Have you ever squirted/made someone squirt?

5.Are you loud or quiet during sex? What do you sound like?

6.Posting Audios

7.More of the Best Friend tropes

8.Were you envisioning yourself as reader from sleepover in that audio?

Thoughts

1.. 2.. 3..

Audios💦

One

Gabrielle Sage x Fem Reader

The bedroom was quiet except for the soft rustle of sheets and the occasional hitch in breathing. Gabby—lay on her side, one arm curled under the pillow. Her eyes were closed, lashes fanned against her cheeks, and her breathing had finally evened out into the slow, deep breath, ready to fall asleep.

The girl beside her had no intention of letting that happen.

Y/N pressed herself along Gabby’s back, front to spine, chin tucked over the slope of one shoulder so her lips grazed the sensitive skin behind Gabby’s ear. Her voice came out small, deliberately whiny, the tone she knew worked like a hook every time.

“Babyy…don’t...not yet”

A tired sound rumbled low in Gabby’s throat, more exhale than word. “Baby, it’s pushing three. I’ve got work at eight.”

“I know.” Y/N drew the syllable out into a hum, fingertips slipping under the hem of Gabby’s oversized shirt to trace slow, maddening circles across her stomach. “But I miss your voice when you sleep. I’m not done listening to it.”

Gabby’s lips twitched even with her eyes still closed—half smile, half surrender. She was exhausted, yes, but Y/N being like this had always been her personal kryptonite.

“You’re impossible to say no to,” Gabby murmured, voice thick with sleep and fondness.

Y/N smiled against her neck, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the spot that always made Gabby’s breathe hitch.

Gabby rolled onto her back in one motion, bringing Y/N with her so she ended up straddling her hips. One of Gabby’s hands settled at the nape of Y/N’s neck, thumb stroking lazily along the edge of her jaw. Her eyes opened dark, heavy-lidded, but soft at the corners.

“You want my voice that bad?” Gabby asked, low and deliberate, each word measured like she was already picturing how it would unravel the girl on top of her. “Then earn it.”

Y/N’s breath caught. She rocked down instinctively, the thin cotton of her sleep shorts dragging against Gabby’s bare thigh. A tiny, needy sound escaped before she could swallow it.

Gabby’s grip tightened just enough. “Louder. Let me hear exactly how much you need me.”

Y/N obeyed without hesitation, grinding down again—harder, slower, chasing the friction. Another whimper, higher this time, shameless.

"That's it...such a good girl for me." Gabby’s free hand slid to Y/n’s hip, guiding the roll of her hips into a steady rhythm. “Keep moving just like that. Fck i can feel how soaked you are already.”

Y/N could feel the damp heat of herself pressing against Gabby’s skin through the fabric. She leaned down, lips hovering a breath from Gabby’s.

“Tell me more,” she whispered, voice trembling. “Please.”

Gabby’s eyes darkened. She tugged Y/N closer by the hair. “I want you to ride my thigh until your legs are shaking. I want to hear every single pathetic little noise you make while you soak me. And when you’re right on the edge—” Her voice dropped lower, raspy and devastating. “—I want you to beg me not to stop talking.”

Y/n's hips stuttered. She kissed Gabby then—desperate, messy. Gabby kissed back like she’d been waiting for it, tongue sliding slow against Y/n's, swallowing every whine that tried to escape.

When they broke apart for air, Gabby’s hand slipped between them, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of Y/N's shorts. She found her drenched, swollen, clit throbbing under the lightest brush of her thumb.

“Fuck,” Gabby breathed against Y/N’s mouth. “Listen to how wet you are. My greedy little brat.”

Y/n nodded frantically, forehead pressed to Gabby’s, hips jerking into the touch. Gabby slid two fingers inside her in one smooth stroke, curling them immediately, and Y/N cried out—sharp, broken, loud enough that it echoed off the walls.

Y/N was already trembling, thighs quivering on either side of Gabby’s hips, nails digging crescent moons into Gabby’s shoulders. Every slow drag of those fingers, every nudge of Gabby’s thumb against her clit, every murmured word wound her tighter.

“Baby—please—i'm gonna—”

“Come on, sweet girl,” Gabby said, voice soft and dark and perfect. “Cum for me.”

Y/N came with a choked sob of Gabby’s name, grinding down hard as the orgasm ripped through her in waves. Gabby kept moving her fingers through it, drawing it out until Y/N was twitching, oversensitive and gasping, until she collapsed forward onto her chest.

Silence settled, broken only by their uneven breathing.

After a long moment Gabby pressed a slow kiss to Y/N’s temple, lips lingering.

“Now,” she rasped, smug and unbearably tender, “can I please get some goddamn sleep?”

Y/N laughed weakly, face buried in the crook of Gabby’s neck, already half-drifting.

“…maybe,” she mumbled. “Five more minutes.”

Gabby groaned, long-suffering, but her arms wrapped around Y/N anyway, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.

17th-Century Rebekah Mikaelson x Fem Reader

The candlelight flickered low in Rebekah Mikaelson’s chambers, casting shadows across the tapestries and the heavy four-poster bed. The air smelled of beeswax, lavender oil, and the faint metallic tang that always seemed to cling to Rebekah herself—like old blood and older secrets.

Y/N, sat behind her on the embroidered covers, running the silver-handled brush slowly through her golden hair. Each stroke was careful, reverent. You’d been doing this since you were both barely more than children—her the sharp-tongued little princess and you, the soft-spoken daughter of a minor lordling who’d been sent to serve in the royal household. The years had changed almost everything except this: the quiet ritual, the way Rebekah’s shoulders relaxed under your touch even when her mouth stayed cruel to everyone else.

Tonight, though, her jaw was tight.

The heavy door opened without a knock.

Lady Eleanor, A Duchess, swept in wearing emerald silk and a smile that was all charms. In her gloved hands she carried a velvet box.

“Sweet Y/N,” the Duchess purred, eyes sliding over you with open hunger. “I brought you something to match those lovely eyes.”

You ducked your head, cheeks warming. “My lady, you are too kind. You needn’t—”

“Nonsense.” Eleanor stepped closer, opening the box to reveal a delicate sapphire pendant on a fine gold chain. “Try it on for me.”

Rebekah’s hand shot out and closed around your wrist before you could reach for the necklace.

“Leave it,” she said to you, voice low and venomous, before turning to the Duchess. “She’s occupied.” she told her.

Eleanor’s smile didn’t falter, but her gaze sharpened as it moved to the princess. “Always so welcoming, Your Highness.”

Rebekah didn’t answer. She simply tugged you down beside her until your back rested against the headboard and she could settle against you again—head on your chest, one arm thrown possessively across your waist. The brush lay forgotten on the sheets.

Eleanor lingered a moment longer, then gave a small laugh. “I’ll call on you tomorrow, darling,” she said to you. “Perhaps we might walk the gardens. The roses are in bloom.”

The door closed behind her.

Silence.

Then Rebekah’s voice, quieter than usual. “You let her speak to you like that.”

You blinked, confused. “She’s… kind to me, my lady.”

Rebekah’s fingers dug into your side enough to make you gasp. “Kind,” she repeated, the word dripping acid. “She wants to fuck you, Y/N. She wants to own you. And you smile at her like she hung the moon.”

Your breath caught. The word—fuck—sounded obscene coming from her perfect mouth. You’d never heard her say anything so crude in your presence before. Heat crawled up your throat.

“I—I don’t understand,” you whispered.

Rebekah lifted her head. Her eyes were dark, pupils blown wide in the low light. For once the cruelty was gone; what remained was something raw, almost desperate.

“You really don’t, do you?” she murmured. Her thumb brushed the corner of your mouth. “My sweet, stupid girl.”

Before you could speak she surged up and kissed you.

It wasn’t gentle.

Her mouth was demanding, teeth catching your bottom lip, tongue sweeping in like she’d been starving for the taste of you. You made a small, startled sound—half whimper, half sigh—and she swallowed it. One hand slid into your hair, tilting your head exactly how she wanted it; the other pushed beneath the laces of your corset, fingertips brushing the soft swell of your breast.

“Rebekah—” you gasped when she broke away just long enough to let you breathe.

“Quiet,” she ordered, but there was a tremor in it. She kissed you again, slower this time, coaxing your lips apart. Her hand moved lower, bunching your skirt, sliding up the inside of your thigh.

You jolted.

No one had ever touched you there. The shock of it—her warm palm cupping you through the thin linen—made your legs twitch closed on instinct.

Rebekah made a low, displeased sound against your mouth.

“Open for me,” she whispered. “Let me in, love.”

You were trembling. “It’s—I’ve never—”

“I know.” Her lips brushed your tear-damp cheek; you hadn’t even realized you were crying. “I know, sweet girl. That’s why it has to be me.”

Her fingers slipped beneath the fabric. You were already slick—embarrassingly so—and she groaned softly when she felt it. One finger circled your entrance, teasing, spreading the wetness, then pressed inside.

The stretch burned.

You cried out, hands flying to her shoulders, nails digging in through silk. Tears spilled over instantly.

“Shh, shh,” Rebekah soothed, kissing them away even as she worked her finger deeper. “It hurts now, I know. Just breathe for me. You’re doing so well.”

“It—hurts,” you whimpered.

“I know.” Another kiss to your temple, your cheekbone, the corner of your eye. “But I have to make you mine, Y/N. No one else gets this. No Duchess. No one.”

She added a second finger. The pain flared brighter; you sobbed, hips jerking, unsure whether to pull away or press closer. Rebekah’s mouth found yours again, swallowing every broken sound, kissing you through it like she could drink the pain away.

“Stay with me,” she murmured against your lips. “Let me have you.”

Slowly—agonizingly—the burn began to ease. Your body softened around her fingers, fluttering, and when she curled them just right you made a sound that wasn’t pain at all.

Rebekah smiled against your mouth—small, triumphant, almost tender.

“There you are,” she breathed. “My good girl.”

She pumped her fingers steadily now, the palm of her hand hitting against your clit each time. Your hips rocked without your permission, chasing the new, shimmering feeling. Tears still slipped down your cheeks from the overwhelming pleasure.

Rebekah kissed every single one away.

“You’re mine,” she whispered, voice rough with something dangerously close to devotion. “Say it.”

“I’m—yours,” you gasped, thighs shaking.

“Louder.”

“I’m yours, Rebekah.”

She kissed you hard as your body clenched around her fingers, as pleasure broke over you in sharp, overwhelming waves. You cried her name into her mouth, clinging to her like she was the only solid thing left in the world.

When it was over she didn’t pull away.

She kept her fingers inside you, soft and still, her forehead pressed to yours. Her breathing was ragged.

“No one else touches you,” she said quietly. “Ever. Do you understand?”

You nodded, dazed, cheeks wet, heart pounding against her chest.

Rebekah finally eased her fingers free. She settled beside you, pulling you into her arms, your head tucked beneath her chin.

“Sleep now,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Tomorrow the Duchess will find the doors to my chambers barred. And if she tries again…”

Her voice dropped to something cold and lethal.

“I’ll remind her what happens to people who touch what’s mine.”

Rebekah’s arms tightened around you—protective, possessive, and—for the first time in all the years you’d known her—completely unguarded.

“You're mine,” she whispered one last time, like a vow.

About my request can you do one with Elizabeth Olsen being our best friend and has feelings for us but the she's planning on telling us Sebastian Stan is proposing to us and we are saying no because we know he cheated on us with someone. Lizzie just stays frozen in place after she hears this and rushes forward slapping him for hurting us and making us cry and on accident she tells us about her true feelings about us. Time skip we get married after she proposed to us and have 2 toddlers 1 boy and 1 girl.

Thank you 💋x

Gabrielle Sage x Fem Reader

The bass from the club still hummed faintly in your bones even after you stepped outside, the night air cool against your flushed skin. Sage had been deep in conversation with some girl with glossy lips and a laugh that carried

“You smell so good.” The girl told her.

Sage’s grin had been slow, pleased, the kind that made your stomach twist. You’d been standing a few feet away, arms crossed, watching the whole thing like it was happening in slow motion. When Sage didn’t immediately pull back, you finally spoke.

“You about ready to go?”

Sage glanced over, eyes still bright from whatever the girl had been saying. “I wanna finish the convo real quick.”

You felt the shift in your chest—something hot and tight. Your voice came out flatter than you meant it to. “Well take her number then. I’m ready to go.”

Sage’s smile faltered for half a second, reading you. She nodded once, murmured something to the girl, exchanged numbers with that same easy charm, then followed you to the car without another word.

The ride home was quiet. Too quiet. Sage kept stealing glances at you, thumb rubbing absently over the back of her phone, but you didn’t give her anything. You stared ahead, jaw tight, fingers drumming once against the steering wheel before going still again.

The apartment door had barely clicked shut before Sage turned, expecting the usual—maybe a quiet ride home turning into soft apologies or teasing make-up kisses. Instead, you were already there, crowding her space, backing her against the wall with a hand flat on her chest.

Sage’s brows lifted, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing her face. “Baby—”

You didn’t let her finish. Your fingers curled around the front of her throat—not squeezing, just holding—and you leaned in until your mouths were a breath apart.

“Do you like pissing me off, mama?” Your voice was low, steady, the nickname slipping out soft and deliberate.

Sage’s lips parted. She blinked once, twice, clearly caught off guard by the sudden shift. The easy confidence she’d worn all night cracked just enough for you to see the real surprise underneath. Her pulse jumped under your palm.

“I… wasn’t trying to—” she started, but you pressed your thumb gently against her windpipe, silencing her without force.

“You were.” You tilted your head, studying her flushed cheeks, the way her pupils had already swallowed most of the hazel. “You let her get that close. Let her smell you. Smiled like you wanted more.”

Sage swallowed. Her hands hovered at your waist, uncertain for once. “I didn’t mean—”

You cut her off again, softer this time, almost sweet. “Call her.”

Sage’s eyes widened. “What?”

You reached into her back pocket, pulled out her phone, and pressed it into her hand. “Call the number. The one you took right in front of me.”

Sage stared at the screen, then back at you. Her breath came a little faster. “You’re serious.”

“Very.” You sank to your knees in one smooth motion, hands sliding up the outsides of her thighs, pushing her skirt higher. “Go on, mama. Dial.”

Sage hesitated—only for a second—then tapped the screen. The call connected. You heard the faint ring once, twice, before the girl’s voice came through, bright and curious.

“Hey! Didn’t expect you to call so—”

Sage opened her mouth to speak, but you’d already hooked your fingers in the waistband of her underwear and tugged them down just enough. Your mouth found her in the next heartbeat—slow, deliberate, tongue flat and warm against her clit.

Sage’s words died instantly. A choked sound escaped instead—half gasp, half moan. Her free hand flew to your hair, gripping hard.

“Uh—hi, I—” She tried again. Failed. Her hips jerked forward involuntarily when you sucked, gentle but insistent. “I just… wanted to—”

The girl on the other end laughed, oblivious. “You okay? You sound… out of breath.”

Sage’s head thumped back against the wall. She was trembling now, thighs shaking under your hands. “I’m—fuck—I’m fine, I just—”

You pulled back just long enough to murmur against her slick skin, “Keep talking, mama.”

Sage whimpered—actually whimpered—and the sound went straight through the speaker. You dove back in, tongue circling faster, two fingers sliding inside her with no warning. She clenched hard around you.

“I—I gotta—” Sage’s voice cracked, barely coherent. “Call you—later—shit—”

You didn’t let up. You curled your fingers just right, sucked harder, felt her start to unravel. Sage’s grip on your hair turned desperate; her knees buckled a little.

The girl’s voice came again, confused now. “Sage? You still there?”

Sage couldn’t answer. Her mouth was open, no sound coming out except broken little gasps. Her whole body was taut, trembling on the edge.

You reached up with your free hand, took the phone from her shaking fingers, and ended the call without a word. The screen went dark.

Sage let out a wrecked sob of relief—or frustration—you couldn’t tell which. Maybe both.

You pulled back just enough to look up at her—lips shiny, eyes dark. “You couldn’t even finish a sentence.”

Sage stared down at you, chest heaving, hair sticking to her damp forehead. “You little—”

You stood slowly, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, then cupped her jaw and kissed her deep—letting her taste herself on your tongue.

When you finally pulled away, you brushed your thumb over her swollen bottom lip.

I just wanted to say that your stories are amazing.

Also I need some advice, how do I tell to my girlfriend that I want her to fuck me harder and more roughly..?

I'm a bit more of a bottom I like it when I hear her moan when i ride her or when her cock is touching my right places..having her In my throat is exciting..

How can I tell her that I want her to go harder?

Hii! Thank you, that means a lot.

💋x

I wish I had a good girl like you to make pretty sounds for- ohhh wait…I do.

- “Someone special…”

I'm so sorry for what happened to you love I hope you're doing well now and being able to move on from this🤍

Also the anon who wrote this request for a one shot it's good but hearing that the went through this it makes me sad, I'm sending them all my love and support ❤️

Hello

I honestly can't thank you enough for this. Thank you both for this story. It was like I was back to that day it was all very touching soft and broken at the same time. Thank you both for doing this. Even if I didn't have a happy ending, this two definitely would.

~❤️~

Oh no Y/N it's fine really.

Thank you very much for doing this, I'm looking forward to read it.

~❤️~

All credit and thanks to wandanatskitten for the writing. I didn't contribute a single line

(UN)WANTED

G!P Wanda x Fem Reader

TW: Blood, talks of abortion

I can’t tell what’s moving faster, my legs pacing back and forth, my heart racing in my chest, or the thoughts passing by in a flash. Thoughts of remorse, frustration…fear. So much fear it’s almost hard to differentiate it from my anxiety. But when I hear the sound of the front door open and close, I realize they go hand in hand.

Wanda sets her briefcase by the door, takes off her shoes, hangs her coat, and greets me with a chaste kiss on the cheek. Her evening routine when she comes home. I can’t help but to analyze her every movement. Trying to determine her mood because if she had a bad day then maybe I could put off the news just one more time. I know there wouldn’t be a good time to drop something this heavy, but maybe she’d take it better if she didn’t already walk through the door pissed.

“Are you okay?”

The sound of her voice breaks me from my trance causing me to look her way. Not realizing how long I’d been standing in my spot staring beyond her or perhaps the floor. Either way I stutter out an unconvincing “yes”. I can see her face scrunch with disbelief, her feet automatically carry her toward me with concern.

“You sure? You look, I don’t know, not okay?” Her tone offered a soft worry and it made me relax just a bit.

I can’t keep avoiding this conversation and I fear my expectations get worse with time. Thinking about the million ways this moment could go has made me lose hours of sleep and dropped my appetite for days. If I don’t say it now my anxiety will tear me down before I even get the chance. Weeks of stress, but this moment feels the most overwhelming than anything I could conjure.

“Actually no, I’m not.” Just a brief moment of honesty gave me Wanda’s full attention. Her eyes are on mine, even if I can’t look into hers. While her hands hold my hips, effortlessly keeping me from running or crumbling.

“I’ve been trying to figure out what words to say, or when to say them. How to approach you and the way you’d react, but just-“

“Y/n.” Wanda’s stern voice cuts off my ramble. “You’re scaring me. Tell me what’s wrong and hopefully I can help.”

She was always the more grounded one and I admired her ability to calm my nerves even if a little. So with questionable confidence I blurted out the words I’d been swallowing for weeks.

“I’m pregnant.”

Stillness erupted. A complete contrast to before. A deafening silence, stone grip on my hips, and I could’ve sworn my heart stopped with anticipation. Until she spoke up.

“What?”

“I’m preg-“

“No.” Her hand rose to hush me. A chilling compliment to her low tone. “I heard you the first time.” It’s the tone I dreaded to be welcomed with. A tone I’ve heard only a handful of times. One that already had tears threatening my waterline.

She looks at me with an unreadable expression and down to my stomach before speaking, “You’re not pregnant Y/n.”

“Wanda I know this isn’t-“

“You’re not pregnant, because we’re careful.” She says quietly while backing away from me. It only takes a few steps till she reaches the counter behind her. Her words low and mumbled as she turned away from me and placed her hands on the counter. Even so, I could hear bits of what she was saying.

“How could this happen?”

“This can’t be real.”

“You’re not pregnant.”

“Fuck.” “Shit.” “Why?”

“Wanda?” I reach for her slowly, cautiously. “It’ll be okay. We can get through this.”

“Get through this?” Wanda finally turns but not without smacking my hand away from her. “Y/n. There is no ‘getting through this’.” Her voice was stern and unforgiving. 

“This.” She gestures to my belly. “Wasn’t part of the plan.” Her feet start to carry her forward while my fear carries me back. “This.” Another gesture. “Was never supposed to happen.” Soon enough she backs me to the other side of the countertop, effectively pinning me there. “This.” She presses her finger into my abdomen. “Needs to go.”

The discomfort of her words caused a pain in my heart, but I swear I could feel it in my stomach. Maybe it was the organ dropping down to my pelvis. But is wasn’t the only thing falling. Tears burned my cheeks, hot and molten as I stuttered. 

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do, Y/n. You know I never wanted kids. Why would it be any different now?”

Another pain. This time, more real than the last. Her words striking a nerve that I can somehow feel deeper and deeper by the minute.

“I knew you’d do this Wanda. I knew you’d react like this.” My voice was small and raspy. A complete contrast to her upcoming outburst.

“Of course I’m fucking reacting like this Y/n! I don’t want a goddamn baby! Not with a stranger. Not with you. Not with the virgin fucking Mary! I’m not ruining my life for you, Y/n.”

I hissed and doubled over as Wanda turned to walk away. Her abandonment cut deep with words as her weapon. 

“Wanda.” I begged helplessly, but my plea was overshadowed by her clouded anger.

“How could you do this to me?” She turns back around once gaining some distance.

My heart was already pounding in my ears, breath shallow and out of control, and for a moment that sharp pain caused by her words dissipated with a burst of adrenaline. Her blame on me fed an anger I didn’t know resided within me.

“I didn’t do shit to you Wanda. Last I checked, it takes two to make a baby. I know you never wanted this, so how do you think I felt the past couple weeks, huh? I haven’t eaten or slept in days, because this is exactly what was running through my head! A million thoughts of how you’d react, yet somehow the reality is worse. So thank you for your support.”

Wanda couldn’t help but counter, “You said it yourself, so don’t play dumb like you didn’t know how I’d react. This isn’t good news, Y/n. So fuck my support.”

“No, fuck you Wanda!”

“Fuck you and that baby.” Her words were beyond ice cold before walking out the room and into another.

For a brief moment, it was quiet and everything sunk in. This time, the adrenaline wasn’t enough to keep me distracted from the unbearable cramp stabbing within my abdomen. Doubling over, using the counter to keep me from falling, as I clenched my eyes shut and tensed all my muscles. Nothing would prepare me for the first sign of red trailing down my inner leg.A drop of blood reached the floor before my last tear. Only to be followed by a light stream. 

The last thing I felt was the dryness in my throat. 

The last thing I saw were green irises filled with trepidation. 

The last thing I heard was static and sirens.

———————————————————————

A consistent beeping woke my ears.

A light weight pressed against my thigh turned on my other senses.

A pair of green eyes and fiery waves grounded me in the moment.

I groaned awake, taking in my surroundings. The cool hospital sent a shiver down my spine. My mind clouded with fatigue until her worried voice carried to my ears.

“Y/n? Hey, how are you feeling?” Wanda addressed me first.

“What happened?” I couldn’t gather my memory in the midst of waking. 

“You fainted. Probably from the blood loss.” Wanda answers.

Every part of me was set alight as the previous moments flooded my head. The argument. The pain. The blood.

“The baby!” I looked down with terror and grabbed my stomach. Salted water blurred my eyes from the clean sheets on top of me, but all I could see was the obscene moment my socks were stained with blood.

“The baby is okay.” Wanda stood up and came closer as she saw the panic rise, soothing me further with confirmation of everything that’s happened since I arrived at the hospital. “The baby is fine, still healthy, although a close call. The doctor checked everything out. Both of you are fine.”

This was good news right? Why didn’t it feel like good news?

“Hey hey hey, why are you crying?” She rushes out, cups my face, and wipes the tears that fell with both her thumbs.

“Because the baby is okay.” I choke out.

“Then why don’t these look like happy tears?” Wanda’s confusion lands on me.

“Because you don’t want the baby to be okay.” I couldn’t stop the waterfall of teardrops and dread pitting in my stomach.

I couldn’t decide if I wanted to remove her hands from my face as I grabbed onto her wrist for dear life. Either way, once again, I couldn’t look her in the eyes.

“No Y/n, baby.” I grabbed her tighter and cried harder.

“Y/n, look at me. Please?” Wanda’s voice was soft and welcoming, but I was still scared. Her thumbs stroked my face as she asked me once more, this time even gentler, “Baby, please look at me.” I pushed beyond scarcity and complied. Meeting those vulnerable jades I fell in love with.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Her eyes teared and her words choked over, but the apology was clear in attempt. “I’m sorry for everything I said. I was angry and scared, but not as angry as I would’ve been if I lost you.” Her words were sincere and cut deep, once again. This time without the pain.

“And not as scared as I was waiting for the doctor to tell me if our baby was going to make it.” She paused for a moment, her tears finally kissing her skin as they raced down her cheeks.

“I want you. I want this. I want our baby.” She put her hand on my stomach and looked down. 

“I’m so sorry.” She whispered. Her words weren’t just made for me or herself, it was as though she was apologizing to the fetus. Apologizing to our baby before directing her attention to me again, “Can you please forgive me? Could you find it in your heart to do that? If not for me, then for the little girl or boy growing inside of you?” My heart fluttered with how she acknowledged the baby.

“The doctor said stress can cause a miscarriage and I promise to do everything in my power to keep you stress free. I promise to do everything I can to prove I love you. And I promise to do everything I can to protect this baby. So long as you can forgive me. I love you Y/n.” Wanda kisses my lips lightly and doesn’t pull far away. “I love you both.”

“I forgive you Wanda.” I whispered between our closeness.

“Thank you.” She whispers before kissing my lips again. This time a little longer.

“I love you.” She kisses my lips.

“I love you.” She kisses my forehead.

If it's ok with you can you write it like your other one shots I like the way you think and write

But at the end can you write a happy ending instead of reader losing the baby please?

~❤️~

I was thinking about wandagip (or just wanda if that bothers you it's fine really) x reader.

Reader is pregnant and afraid to tell wanda because she said that she doesn't want any kids. The reader tells her about the pregnancy and wanda loses her mind and starts screaming at us, and reader starts to cry and not feeling well. Reader looks down and sees blood running down their legs and collapse. Wanda rushes us to the hospital afraid of losing us and regrets everything that she said to us.

I know it's a lot.. but it happened to me. My boyfriend didn't want our baby, he rushed me to the hospital but it was too late..