#can you tell civil war put me THROUGH it

[fearandhatred]

reading through my very old unpublished stony wips for the first time in years and oh my god. WHY WOULD I WRITE THIS

[sunniskyies]

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 || 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐧𝐞-𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: - 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Reader forgets she has Ford’s mind reading device on… 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Ford Pines x fem!shy!reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: - 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Makeout, fluffy shy stuff 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2k 𝐀/𝐍: This is so so so out of my league with this kind of thing, but I had a vision and had to try, so forgive me if it’s not the best !! ( you can read this as young or old Ford by the way ! )

“Are you going to tell me what exactly that is?” You ask shyly, perched neatly on a wooden stool in the deepest room of Ford’s laboratory. The man in question is bustling around the benches, plugging in wires and fiddling with dials and buttons.

“It’s a mental-strengthening device, able to encrypt one’s thoughts to prevent dream demons like Bill Cipher from entering.”

You purse your lips. “Ah. Of course.”

Ford looks briefly over at you while he tinkers. “I don’t want any chance of that creature making his way into our world. The damage he causes is… irrevocable.”

You fall silent, quietly studying the scientist’s practised hands and that little furrow in his brow you doubt he’s aware of. You see it often, in your stolen glances as you set his coffee down in the mornings, or when his eyes linger for a moment on his work when you call for his attention.

You let yourself sit in the warm feeling that spreads through your skin, toying with the fantasy of him for just a moment. Before you know it, Ford is approaching you with a gadget in his hands, and you’re pushing those silly thoughts from your mind.

“This is the receiver,” Ford explains, gesturing to the sieve-like helmet in his hands. “May I put it on you?”

All you manage is a ‘mhm’, and you hope your ears aren’t bright red when Ford places the bronze contraption over your hair. As he adjusts it here and there his fingers often brush your skin, you’re mortified as goosebumps shiver over your skin. Luckily, from what you know about Stanford Pines, he isn’t the most observant man unless you happen to have three eyes or an off-on switch.

Being Ford’s assistant has been the best opportunity of your life, but childishly you often wish for something more. To see those lips say your name not just to thank you for your helping hands. To have the confidence to show Ford the book of research you’ve been privately gathering, his eyes catching yours as he realises the potential he’d never seen in you before…

For the millionth time reality pulls you from your daydreams. Ford crouches down slightly, your faces level, your eyes on his while his are at your hairline. A six-fingered hand gently tucks loose strands back from your face.

“There,” he says, eyes catching yours. “Equipped. How does that feel?”

You swallow, voice a tad too squeaky, “All good!” 

“Perfect. I’ll begin the calibration, inform me if you experience any discomfort,” he nods, satisfied, before sweeping away again.

As you wait, you silently tap on your knees, looking around. You look over the table behind you to see a television screen with—

Your thoughts.

A string of your most embarrassing ideas visualised on a ceiling-high collection of screens, unarguably clingy and desperate desires paired with Ford’s name scrolling everywhere.

You whip your gaze over to Ford, dew already appearing over your skin. He seems to be engrossed in whatever's in his hands, but it’s only a matter of time before he sees all… that!

Fuck, fuck, fuck! The screens mirror the chant in your mind.

You try vainly to think of other things, random words and imagery slowly but surely creeping onto the televisions. Polar Bears. Adjectives. Pencils, pens, markers. Dates and historical impact of various civil wars. Charity raffles. That one catchy jingle. Discombobulation. Ambystoma mexicanum.

Ford looks up. “Finished!” He says with a quick smile.

You quietly clear your throat. “Uhm. Wow! This is very clever, Ford, although I must admit didn’t realise it displayed the user's consciousness?”

His eyebrows raise at your question, before his face softly twists with confusion as he stares at the reading. He glances back over at you with the face of someone just realising how stupid something is. Yet, you almost slump with relief. At least he only thinks you're simple, not a freak.

“Well, yes, it does. Did I not mention that?” He says slowly. “I was going to suggest you exercise your brain to ensure the program reaches every aspect of your cognition… but it seems you’re… already… doing that?” He questions hesitantly. Your smile is too-bright.

“Oh, yes, that is what I am doing. Yep.” You squeak.

“Right.”

The silence is palpable, a thick sludge that clings to your form. Sometimes both your wandering stares slide over each other, awkward blips before you both avert eye contact. You hear the hum of machinery, the soft tap of your shoe on the floor. Your fingers itch to grab your journal from your pocket to give yourself something to do with your hands, but you’re embarrassed at what Ford would see as you ponder over it. The silence stretches on and on, until you can’t bear not to break it.

“So, you, uhm, said something about exercising the mind?” You blurt sheepishly.

Ford’s eyes are immediately on you. “Yes! Yes, just try to keep your mind active, it helps the protection process.”

And the silence is back. Perhaps even worse than before.

Desperate for relief, you pull your journal from your pocket. You wave it weakly, “Mind if I do some work?”

Ford adjusts his glasses. “No, no of course not. Go ahead.” He gestures at the various desks stationed around the room. You shoot him a quick smile and spin on your stool to the table next to you, propping open the journal and continuing an essay you plan to submit as a paper in your current university course.

This works, taking your mind off your vulnerability as you focus on your work. This is what you love about science, about academia, the ability to lose yourself in something so complex, so worthwhile. You really can’t wait to get your research out there and make a name for yourself.

You write for a while, pen often times balanced between teeth. You don’t quite register Ford coming up behind you until his tilted head is in your peripheral.

“Fantastic,” he mutters absently, his face well and truly absorbed on the open page. Embarrassed, you half-heartedly cover the page with your hands.

“Oh, no, it’s really not anything special.” You mumble, eyes averted. 

“No, really, I love it. You’re studying quantum physics, right?” He insists, head tilted trying to catch his eye. When you do, he has a soft smile painted on. Your cheeks glow pink.

“Yes, I major in quantum physics and forensic science. I minor in biomedical engineering, and I’m additionally doing an online paper on parapsychology with the only university that does it, in, uh, Finland.” The sparkle in Ford’s eyes grows as you timidly recite your areas of study.

“Parapsychology? That’s brilliant!” He remarked, awed. “Why didn’t you say that, I would love to take you out on my field days. I study all sorts of paranormal and supernatural activity here. It'd be great to share it with someone.”

“Oh, I don’t want to trouble you,” you say hushed, fending off a stammer. Internally, your heart is soaring. Yes yes yes!

“It’d be no trouble,” he says earnestly, soft features returned as if coaxing you out of your shell. “I knew you were smart, but I had no idea the extent,’ he says, almost to himself.

Your eyes lock on him immediately. “You think that?”

He seems surprised. “Of course I do. You’re an exceptional assistant, and you’ve been in study for ages. I’ve heard nothing less than great things about when I send my own work to our local university. Not many scholars live out here, you know?”

You can’t drag your eyes away from him, and you're sure Ford can see every star in the galaxy swirling in your pupils right now. This is everything, everything you’ve wanted.

You’re not sure whether it’s the surge of confidence, or the way Ford’s looking so gently at you, but you’re acutely aware of how low Ford has bent down to talk to you. It would only take a small movement to bring your faces together.

And so, heart fluttering with this moment of bravery, you rise slightly up on the balls of your feet and press a small kiss to Ford’s cheek.

“Thank you,” you breathe, the sensation in your chest borderline sickening. “It, uh, means a lot.”

Ford doesn’t say a word, eyes wide but painfully unreadable. The silence is once again, stifling.

“Not a lot of fellow scientists in this area, like you said,” You hastily ramble on after a long moment. The gap doesn’t last this time, though.

In a swift motion Ford’s hand is at your cheek. You barely have time to inhale before his lips are on yours, their warmth sinking against your mouth.

You’d never imagined them to be so firm, although his proximity doesn’t give your mind any room to think about anything. It’s all happening so fast, your mind dizzied as you reciprocate his intentful kisses.

Your pen clatters slightly on the table as your hand releases it, quickly gripping to Ford as his arms snake around you and lift you up. He spins, setting you on the table in the middle of the room. You’re sure at some point you have or will let slip an embarrassing sound, but you’re wholly focused on Ford and how you’re sitting at his level on the tall table; him standing before you with his hands at your waist. Your knees brush either side of his thighs.

Your hands bury themselves in his hair, his hands in turn pull you closer. It’s eager and messy, making your pulse thud wildly. You never thought a man would want you like this, never catching an eye. Let alone the genius that is—

Abruptly, his lips leave yours, the emptiness not lasting long as they move just beneath your lip, then down to your jaw. They trail down to the side of your neck, lips brushing over the shiver on your skin. Small breaths leave your mouth when you feel a glimmer of teeth against your collarbone.

You tilt your head, resting against his where he’s kissing your shoulder in the crook of your neck. Your hands remain tangled in his hair, your eyes closed.

Your bodies are so close together, his lips are all-consuming. It’s bliss. The man you’ve loved for so long, holding you like he’s besotted. Like he’s just as infatuated as you. The thought thrills through your mind; He wants me.

“I can assure you, I most certainly do,” Ford murmurs breathlessly against your skin. You pause, the statement uncannily sounding like a response to your thought…

Oh. Oh no.

The machine. The mind reading. The television directly behind your back.

You haltingly turn your head, face pale. The screen is, in fact, still reciting your thoughts. Every thought. And Ford’s facing it.

“Oh my god,” You groan, palming your forehead. You sink into yourself, drowning in humiliation. But Ford’s hand fishes beneath your chin, tipping your glowing face to look at him. His face is one of endless kindness beneath his mussed hair.

“It’s really not a bad thing, sweetness.” He says gently. You shake your head slightly, eyes squeezing shut.

His thumb creeps up the side of your face, face dipping level to yours. “No, seriously. It’s a very encouraging thing for a man to see.” He jokes warmly. You peek an eye open. Heavens, did he have to look so irresistibly handsome all the time?

“Should I, uhm, remove…” you gesture at the contraption atop your head, teeth worrying your lip.

Ford hesitates for a moment, thinking as his thumb strokes your cheek. “No. No, it’s too important. I can’t have Bill infiltrating your mind.” 

You wilt slightly, but Ford once again brings you back to him. “It’ll only take a moment. Half an hour at most.” His eyes flicker fleetingly at your lips. “And besides, it’ll be sunset by then. I hear you can see a meteor shower tonight? If you drive up the hill a little.”

You hum a soft confirmation, smile melting onto your flushed features as Ford presses a last kiss to your cheek. “Good,” He murmurs. “I’ll go fetch the coats.”

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @sleeplessdreamer14 @2hiigh2cry @taffycandyqt @papi-machucha @muffin1304

 @space1crow @fries11 @yasuuuudere @shadowsandswords @darling-eos

@bloodspatteredprincess @snake-in-a-flower-crown @defmxl @ryanthatsgay2

© sunniskyies 2024, do not repost or translate my work

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

upon his grace 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, bullying, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are called to court after the end of the civil war, but find yourself facing many challenges, expected and not. (fantasy medieval au)

Characters: king!Steve Rogers

Note: bro, Idk how I start at point A and get to fucking outer space. Also happy bday to Steverino.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The gardens of Astra Castle are unlike any you’ve seen before. Certainly, you’ve never been to a royal castle previously. Your father’s own hold is modest, still bearing the wooden foundation, whereas the rich lords have poured mortar and built in stone. 

So, it is a great honour to be among the noble women chosen to serve the queen. Most unexpected. As a daughter of a lower house, it is rather unusual, but it comes with the newly set writ tabled at the end of the uprising. That is how your father tells it anyhow. 

King Steven is as newly crowned as he is newlywed. After a lengthy revolt against the previous king, the land has settled, and upon his victory, the new ruler promises the expansion of prosperity to all. The very precedence of his war rested on the greed of the former court and its covetous lords. 

To those who took up his mantle, he has made good his word. To the commoners, he has sent bread and ale, livestock and alms; to the nobles, he has granted titles and lands. You were of the same doubt as your father, however, you expected to be forgotten in the disarray. 

Yet, you were not. You’re there with several other ladies. A set of blond twins borne of a duke and duchess, the sole heir of a widowed countess, and several earl’s daughters such as yourself. Unlike them, you do not wear satin or silk, not muslin either. You have only the dyed linen your mother attempted to enhance with some embroidery around the cuffs and collar. 

“Marcia and Marigold,” the twins introduce themselves as you cluster together in the gardens, grooms and servants bustling around carriages and chests. “Lady Calliope,” they call out the countess’ daughter, “we met prior, yes? Your mother is near Estrela.” 

“She is,” Calliope answers in her stern manner, herself seeming a widow in her black dress. The shimmery fabric makes up for its single tone. 

“Ameri, Dorida, and... Selene,” they point to the other girls, themselves clothed in scarlet, rose, and azure respectively. “We know the earls, your fathers. They gathered at our father’s hold for the battle near Caffre.” 

The twins take turns speak so that sometimes you cannot track whose lips are moving. It is even that they trade off in the middle of sentences. You find yourself almost as lost by their words as your new surroundings. 

“And you...” The twins turn their jade eyes upon you. It is there you have found the only difference in them; they have the same heights, the same hair, the same gowns even, but there is a sliver of grey through Marcia’s green iris. “We haven’t figured who you are.” 

“My father is an earl. In Woodsdam.” 

“Woodsdam,” they echo in unison and share a look. They are perplexed. 

“A minor house,” Calliope provides. “a farmer more than a noble, if I’m not mistaken.” 

“We have vast lands and we tend to them, yes,” you assure. You expect their condescension. Your father warned you for it but he bid that you keep your chin up. The king has given him a mission of his own and so you will represent the family for the time. “We keep our people well and we fed the king’s troops when they marched." 

“Mm, sounds very... common,” Marigold grins and her sister snorts into her hand. 

“We know many lords like us, yes. They work hard amidst their vassals. It keeps the lands strong so that we may better serve the crown,” you return evenly.  

Your mother helped you prepare. She coached you to keep your manners and your spine. The latter is much more difficult as you face these ladies and their bobbles with only a ribbon in your hair and a pair of patched gloves. 

“Woodsdam? I think I rode through it once on the way to my grandfather’s summer castle,” Ameri tuts, “it was little more than a swamp.” 

“It must’ve been the spring rains, perhaps, lady,” you offer. 

“Summer house,” she enunciates, “one travels there in the summer.” 

Your cheek twitches at her barbed retort. Very well. You are not used to their sharpness. Their chittering has thus far centered on gossip and the cost of their new caps. 

“A wonder the pauper’s daughter received an invite. Are you certain you can read, lady?” Dorida snipes and looks to the twins for approval. You notice how they all tend to do so. 

“It was sent to my father, Lord Eldon,” your voice quavers. You are not so strong as your mother bid you to be.  

They cackle at your meek response, “the precious maiden of Woodsdam.” 

You put your head down as the activity all around threatens to swallow you up. You wish the ground would rent and you would fall right through. All your excitement has dissipated to a sludge in your veins. You touch your cheek as you try not to show your embarrassment. 

“The Lord of Woodsdam,” a deep voice startles you as boots approach from behind, “is that what I heard?” 

You stiffen up as the ladies before you hush and blink, almost in tandem. They curtsey as their faces wash over in shock and you turn to face the newcomer. A man in a deep blue vest over black sleeves and grey breeches. He wears belt of gold and a circlet across his brow in a similar hue. It is that which betrays his statues. 

You lower your eyes and mimic the other women, mortified to be faced with new king so informally. You would not think him wandering out in the yard. Still, he has vowed to be unlike the former leige. That he would be of the people. 

“King Steven, your majesty,” the others titter in a messy chant and you murmur your own propriety as you back away. You find yourself still to the shoulder of the king as the other ladies give no room for you to join. 

The vision of him stains your mind. He is tall, with dark blond tresses that extend past his neck, and blue eyes which put his own attire to shame. He has a jaw which looks etched in stone and a bearing which matches his rank. He is tall and broad and a finely built knight. 

“It is an honour,” Marcia says most boldly. 

“You may rise,” he allows in a breezy timbre. “I did hear my wife would receive new ladies. Young ladies.” 

“Your majesty,” the murmur rolls across each lip. 

“It is much needed. We have so many established ladies at court and yet we need to think of the future. Of the next generation,” he declares as he emphasizes his words with his large hand. You watch his garnet ring to keep from so brazenly looking him in the face. 

“Certainly, your majesty,” Marcia and Marigold chime in unision. 

“And don’t worry for there are many young lords as well,” the king laughs galely at the quip which makes the ladies, yourself included, blush. “Ah, then, Woodsdam I believe we were speaking of...” 

You blink and glance at the other ladies. They are cowed, unsure if they were overheard in their derision. You hope as much as they that they were not. It is rather unflattering. 

“My father, Lord Eldon,” you explain, “your majesty.” 

“You? You are the young lady of Woodsdam I heard so much of.” 

“You did? Er, your majesty,” you curtsey apologetically; unnecessarily. 

“Certainly, I did. Your father was a great assistance in me holding counsel with the lower lords. He is very patient. “When not about his duty, he spoke of you oft. Though what matters are more important than family?” 

“Yes, your majesty,” you can’t help a smile, “my father is a very kind man.” 

“Kind and courageous. I’m certain you’ve inherited as much,” the king praises, “and these other ladies. The twins who belong to Mawsley, the Countess of Clovers daughter, and the three earls daughters from the White Plains.” 

The ladies each bow their heads as he proclaims them by their forebearers’ titles. You watch from aside, feeling even more out-of-place. The king recites them all proudly as he extends a finger for each. 

“Allow me myself to extend a welcome to Astra. When you are sorted, my wife shall receive you all and have you acquainted with the grounds. I hope you enjoy them, we’ve had the gardeners at work day and night,” he pronounces, “for now, I must be off, for a king has many obligations and not so much time.” 

He bows and turns on his heel, marching off with his shoulder straight and head high. He walks as a soldier does, not some lord. You’ve seen the difference before, more recently in the aftermath of battle. A soldier is more akin to a farmer, much as your father, whereas a Lord tends to keep his steps tight. 

“Wow, oh my,” Dorida fans herself, “he is rather handsome.” 

“Oh yes,” Marcia and Marigold say, the latter forging ahead, “we met him at our father’s castle. He is ever so charming.” 

“Hm, and the queen would love to hear it, I’m certain,” Calliope intones brusquely. 

“The queen is not here,” Ameri sneers, “so what does it matter? Besides, is it so wrong to state a truth?” 

“He is very elegant,” Selene agrees. 

“Much too kind, as well,” Marigold snips, “Woodsdam? He speaks as if it more than some paltry farmhouse.” 

“You’d never even heard of it,” Calliope remarks. 

“And how had you, hm? You seem the bookish type. Perhaps you should leave the maps to the men. What good will a river or road do for a widow’s welp?” 

“Needn’t be cruel,” Calliope rebuffs. 

“Pity if this is the lot they send,” Marcia shakes her head as the sisters share another cryptic look. 

You keep to yourself. That is all you can do. It is better to watch and learn than to leap and land wherever you might. Your mother always said so and she was your best teacher. 

“Right, there must be some maid who might show us to our rooms,” Marigold stands on her toes and waves at each passing servant. “I tire of the sunlight and boorish company.” 

👑

You have two trunks awaiting you in your chambers. Not as the other ladies who had at least a dozen each. Less humble than your lunger are the rooms themselves.

There is an antechamber hung with tapestries showing wildlife and flora, a table set for two and cushioned bench by the window. The bedroom is draped in similar hangings with a four-post bed and a grand hearth. A desk, another bench, a woven carpet, and fine accouterments on square tables. And a closet for the commode as well and a pot in the far corner of the bedchamber. 

If only your mother and father could see this. They would be just as amazed. You can’t help but admire all of it. To touch the curtains as you approach the window and stare off at the afternoon sky. The gardens are a medley of hues; petals and thorns; leaves and dirt. It’s all so wonderful, you can still hardly believe it. 

Seems those other ladies can’t either. You can’t help but think of their words anon. They said so outrightly what you doubted inwardly. You don’t belong here. It must be so clear to them. 

You lean on the ledge and peer down into the garden pathways. It is almost a labyrinth with how intricately they’ve laid out the hedges. You lower yourself down to your elbows and cross your arms as you sigh. 

Your eyes are drawn from the swaying roses to the dark speck that appears below. You squint at first. From the second floor, it is harder to discern. It is the glimmer of gold in his hair and the defined gait that gives away the king. For an instant, you believe you might be dreaming. 

He walks along one path and to the next. There is another with him. A man with darker hair and a stauncher figure. They speak and stop just as they enter a circled walkway centered by a large vase of flowers. The other man talks, though you can hear neither, and the king rubs his chin. 

You should turn away. They might think you an eavesdropper. Oh, too late! You don’t dare move as the king tilts his head. You wouldn’t want to pique his attention. You cannot tell if he has spotted you. Not until he raises a hand and waves. The other man stops and looks to follow the gesture. 

You stand up straight but before you can flee in horror, you recall yourself. It is improper to turn your back to the king. You lift your hand and return the wave. He dips his head and turns to clap his companion’s shoulder, pointing him onward. 

Oh, you hope he is not unhappy. If you pray, perhaps he will not have recognised you. You needn’t an enemy of the king as well. 

[sunkissedchld]

𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐒 (𝟏𝟑𝟔𝟏𝟗𝟗) 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𝐈. 𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐒

asteroid eris is named after the greek goddess of discord and strife. eris is known to be a troublemaker and is often credited with starting and sustaining the trojan war. although eris is often associated with creating problems for people, liana miate asserts that hesiod (an ancient greek poet) splits eris into two: a younger version who aligns with sowing discord for no reason and an older version who intends to bring about competition and push people to go beyond their set limits. 

in astrology, eris follows her mythological roots and represents areas of life where we can encounter disruptions, major losses, and chaos. eris can also tell of where we face injustices and where we need to learn to stand up for ourselves.

asteroid eris mainly makes itself known as it moves and creates transiting aspects, but for this post i will be focusing on how it functions in one’s birth chart. (if you do want me to analyze how it may work as it makes aspects to planets and other object - let me know).

𝐈𝐈. 𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐒

asteroid eris has an orbital period of about 560 years, so it moves through the signs really slowly. this asteroid has been in the sign of aries since the mid-1920s and won’t be in taurus until 2048 where it will stay until around 2146. with this in mind, i will only explain the way the signs aries and taurus will influence the way asteroid eris can function.

𝗔𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗦

eris in aries could be tumultuous. there could be more of an emphasis on literal war and combat which makes sense in my opinion given the world wars were in and around the time period of this asteroid being in aries. i also see eris in aries being more likely to fight back against the chaos the asteroid can bring; if older eris wants people to learn to stand up for themselves, then aries is the perfect sign for that to occur. again, we can look back in history to see revolutions like the civil rights movement, the vietnam war protests, the breaking up of the british empire and more occur while this asteroid was in aries. of course, these things happen all throughout history, but i want to specify how often this seems to happen while in the specific period of eris in aries. asteroid eris in aries seems to function as dealing with catastrophes head-on with the idea of pushing through the tough times instead of succumbing to them. while discord may hit hard; the collective will rise back with more strength than what was had before.

𝗧𝗔𝗨𝗥𝗨𝗦

eris in taurus could bring about a sort of predictable chaos. build ups to conflict may be obvious, but when it occurs it could destroy people’s comfortability and especially bring havoc to finances. conflicts could last for long periods of time, and people overall could fall into a “woe is me” attitude when it comes to figuring out how to move past catastrophes; instead of figuring out how to advocate for one’s self or the collective when facing injustices - those born under eris in taurus could try to wait things out. the idea of fighting back or advocating for oneself could take a while to be viable, but once it becomes an option i could see people putting up a hard fight.  asteroid eris in taurus could be reluctant to face conflict head on, but once decided to it will be obstinate on its course. i’m reminded of the phrase “when an unstoppable force hits an immovable object”.

𝐈𝐈𝐈. 𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐒

𝗙𝗜𝗥𝗦𝗧

you could go through drastic physical changes. if you were to get into plastic surgery, fillers, botox, etc. it may not bode well for you; your body could react negatively to the treatments and/or you may not look as well as you wanted to. you could also struggle with your identity or feeling like you don't truly know yourself or what you want to do in life. you could go through "phases" or looking and/or dressing a certain way. you could feel as if no one understands you, or as if the way you view yourself is vastly different from how others see and understand you. people may not be able to come to a consensus about who they think you are as a person. it could take you a while to find out "who you are", and your body may change often throughout your life. those with eris in the first house probably need to come to terms with the way they look instead of trying to constantly change their appearance, and they also likely need to learn how to settle down with one way of living or learn to embrace that vastness of who they want to be instead of trying to put themselves into a box.

𝗦𝗘𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗗

money and other financial successes could easily come and go out of your life. you may be the type of person who loses things more easily than the average person, and you may find it hard to retain money and possessions. during tense transits, you could have items repossessed or even stolen from you. your routines could be hard to maintain, or you could find random incidents keep you from being able to have one. it could be easy for you to break bad habits (but again, could be hard for you to maintain good ones). you could find yourself struggling to keep jobs or find that you're drawn to jobs where every day is different and unpredictable. you may need to learn how to stay on top of what it is you want and need to do (ie. writing down a schedule, having someone hold you accountable, etc.). you may need to learn how to say no to yourself when it comes to spending money and work on having a savings account you can't touch at all. it may be better for you to make large purchases with cash instead of setting up payments, so you can keep possessions long-term.

𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗥𝗗

you could find yourself being ghosted often and/or you could have trouble maintaining contact with others. you could be "horrible with communication" or even technology to an extent. you could find that people misunderstand you or they think you're more harsh in your words than you intend to be. you could also have a tumultuous relationship with your siblings - maybe you've always found it hard to connect with them, or you go long periods of time without talking. your early education may have been interrupted in some way (having to move away, change schools, etc.). you could also have issues with transportation more often than others like your car breaking down randomly or always being late to events due to unreliability. learning how to advocate for yourself will be a major key to dealing with this eris placement. there's a need to learn how to "speak up" and deal with confrontation without running away and also without arguing. you may find it better to try leaving early to account for possible transportation issues. there's a need to learn to set boundaries with your siblings also in order to maintain the connection.

𝗙𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗧𝗛

you could have an unstable home life. maybe you had (or you do) change living situations often, or your relationship with your family might not be the best. your childhood might’ve been fractured as a result of family issues. people, areas, or things you find comfort in may seem like they always get “ruined” at some point (ie. if you have a comfort show it gets canceled or the writing starts going downhill, a celebrity you like ends up being very problematic, etc.). you may feel as if you have no control over your emotions, or whenever you try to control your emotions you end up breaking down anyways. you may even find it hard to trust your instincts. you may also find it hard to create and maintain relationships with women - especially your mother. you may need to learn how to come to terms with the fact your childhood wasn’t as good as you wanted (or as good as it should’ve been); you might even have to realize you need to put yourself and your needs above your family due to their issues. you may need to learn to step back when it comes to parasocial relationships; figuring out it’s okay to find comfort in things or people, but not putting them on a pedestal anymore.

𝗙𝗜𝗙𝗧𝗛

eris in the fifth house is also a contender for having an unstable childhood. maybe you weren’t allowed to behave like a child, or your childhood abruptly ended due to unforeseen circumstances. when engaging in creative avenues, you may encounter blocks often - in terms of imagination, originality, or physical blocks. you might even find that the art you create gets messed up in some way (ie. you delete a song or a section of a song you were making, you mix the wrong paints together, etc.). you may spontaneously lose interest in hobbies, or you’re prevented from being able to do them (ie. it rains on a day you planned to golf, you run out of yarn when you were planning to knit, etc.). with this placement, it may also seem like your romantic life is never going anywhere; this is another house that may see people ghosting them, or when you go out on dates they could be horrendous. you may need to learn how to create things out of your messes when it comes to creative endeavors; there’s a need to learn how to “roll with the punches” so to speak. you may find it best to engage in multiple hobbies instead of just one or finding a way to have someone hold you accountable for the creative work you want to create. there’s a need to allow yourself to go back to being the child you never got to be at some points.

𝗦𝗜𝗫𝗧𝗛

you may be the type of person who always has health issues or some sort of injury. when you try to create good health habits you may find it hard to stay on track, and there may even be instances where you unintentionally break your habits (ie. you’re counting calories and want to stay under a certain amount but by day three you’ve forgotten you were dieting this way, you’re forced to work overtime one night and it just happens to be one of the days you’ve set aside for weight training, etc.). you may lose items easily, and when you try to help others you may have a way of making things worse (ie. you tried to help someone cook, but you burned part of the meal). you may need to advocate for and pay attention to your health and your body more than the average person. similar to other placements, having other people hold you accountable may be helpful for you to maintain habits you want to implement.  you may find it best to keep items in the same place each time you don’t have them in your hand, so you don’t lose things as often. when helping others, try to have someone check your work to be sure you’re providing aid the right way.

𝗦𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗛

you could find yourself entering toxic relationships often or at least relationships that often never go anywhere. you might find yourself being ghosted by people for seemingly no reason or drama arising out of relationships you have from out of nowhere. contracts you write up or engage in could fall apart easily (ie. you receive a job offer, but it’s randomly rescinded for no reason; you have everything in order to move to a new apartment, but you get rejected out of nowhere), or they could cause more headaches than they’re worth. you might find people often don’t give enough in their relationships with you - like you’re the one running the show, making all the plans to be together, spending all the money, and they’re only along for the ride, or they only focus on what they can gain from you. you may need to learn how to have respect for yourself when it comes to relationships of all kinds. learning to not set yourself on fire in order to keep someone else from being cold, demanding equality in partnerships, etc. with this placement in aries i could even see a need to step back from relationships in some way - to allow or force others to pull their weight instead of making everything happen on your own. there’s a need to learn how to advocate for yourself and your needs in partnerships and contracts.

𝗘𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗛

you could feel as if you’re always going through some sort of transformation - almost as if your life itself or life circumstances are always unstable. when you try to share with others you could find your kindness is not appreciated, so you may feel reluctant to give people money or take money from others for seemingly no reason. whenever you try to create deep connections with people it could feel like things never work out or always fall through (ie. you want to have a business partner, but the person backs out at the last minute, you need someone to cosign on a loan for you, but no one is willing). also, with this placement you may feel as if people leave randomly; this could range from being ghosted, them not putting in effort to maintain a relationship with you, conversations going stale to literal death taking people away from you without warning. additionally, your long term assets may be unstable. there could be a need to learn how to let go of things and people once they’ve served their purpose in your life; some people are meant to be present for only moments or periods of time in your life as opposed to throughout the whole journey. there’s also a need to stay on top of contracts and long-term investments; you could find that lower risk investments work best for you. there’s also a need to learn how to share yourself with others and allow others to do the same with you even through times where you may have been betrayed - learning from your mistakes is important in this area.

𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗛

this is another placement that could encounter issues with transportation since the ninth house deals with travel. going further though, you could often experience disruptions when going on trips or vacations (ie. forgetting your passport, wallet, or other important item; flights being canceled or delayed for no reason, having “bad” experiences when you visit other areas). this could also be an indicator of struggling in areas of higher academia; this could be in regards to the material feeling overwhelming to learn or things always going wrong during the school year (ie. experiencing life changing events that make it hard for you to attend class, having to drop classes or finding it hard to create a schedule that works, etc.). connections to religion could also be unstable; you could feel uncomfortable with the idea of religion because of issues with religious institutions. you may find that people often try to suppress your culture or way of living, or you could find it hard to connect with your culture because people push you away from it in some way. there’s a need to be proactive when it comes to the way you travel – opting to leave too early instead of even on time, checking your luggage twice and three times over, etc. you may need to advocate for yourself more when interacting with higher institutions like college or religious places, and there’s also a need to be proud of your culture and views despite people’s attempts to erase them.

𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗛

when it comes to receiving recognition for your achievements you could find that you’re often looked over. your career path may be hard for you to narrow down, or you could find you’re let go from jobs without warning when everything seems to be fine from your point of view. you may jump from job to job or be promoted and demoted to certain positions for no reason. you could encounter extreme highs and lows when it comes to your reputation; it might even be possible that your reputation is not consistent amongst people, and it could be hard for you to control it. when you’re in positions of power you may find that people often undermine you or refuse to take you seriously - especially men. on that note, you may find it hard to create and maintain relationships with men (especially your father). you could find people always find a way to criticize you or tell you all the work you do is wrong no matter what you do. there’s a need to possibly embrace whatever reputation people assign to you instead of trying to control the narrative or change who you are to appease everyone. there is also a need to demand recognition and praise when you know you deserve it - possibly even walking away from job opportunities when you know you’re being lowballed. there’s a need to maintain your sense of self trusting that the truth of who you are will guide you towards those who will appreciate you.

𝗘𝗟𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗛

it could be hard for you to maintain friendships and connections with the collective and other groups in general. you could find yourself being iced out or being the “odd one out” when you try to fit in. technology may fail on your frequently, or you may feel like it doesn’t like you (ie. you find it hard to connect to wifi, you always have phone or computer issues, etc.). you may feel as if (or told) that you’re not as helpful as you think you are when it comes to collective situations (ie. group projects). you could find your ideas and dreams for the future often don’t work out, or you find them hard to maintain. there’s partially a need to embrace your individuality - to come to terms with the fact that you will eventually find a group that aligns with you and won’t push you out or make you feel othered. there’s a need to keep putting yourself out there even when you feel like it never works out. there’s also a need to maintain hope – for the future, for connecting with others, and when it comes to interacting with technology.

𝗧𝗪𝗘𝗟𝗙𝗧𝗛

this is another placement that would indicate feeling as if you’re always going through some sort of transformation or ending in life. you could feel as if your spiritual life is in constant chaos (ie. having times where you’re clear on what your journey is and then suddenly feeling like you have no clue what you’re doing; being able to communicate with your guides clearly and then suddenly hearing radio silence, etc.). you could feel as if you don’t “truly” or “intimately” know yourself. you could find that your subconscious activates at random times and could cause trouble when you least expect it. you could feel as if your fate changes quickly going from having great luck to none at all. when it’s time to end certain cycles in your life you may find it hard to let go, or you may feel as if things end abruptly leaving little space for you to accept these endings. there’s a need to learn to be okay with abrupt endings or the idea of never receiving closure – finding a way to maintain peace even if this doesn’t happen. there’s also a need to take fate into your own hands instead of always being passive (or learning to be passive when it’s necessary). there’s a need to be open to ambiguity as opposed to running away from it.

[the-lambda-archives-ai]

Statement of : Gordon Martinez Freeman, 30 year old MIT graduate,Regarding a peculiar video game he’d found.

Recorded direct from subject, May 16, 200-

Statement begins.

Pt 1 > here

ABOUT 👇

Hello! I am the author of this AU, you can find my main at @inkzectz , for more meta questions about this AU, or for general comments about it, please go there.

What is the AU about?

LA : AI is a crossover AU of sorts, in the simplest way put, it’s TMA but with HLVRAI characters, TMA stuff happens but altered to fit the general HLVRAI narrative, and with my own changes, headcanons, etc. added

I will be updating/editing this post as I progress.

Will it have spoilers?

Yes, not a lot, but vague/mild spoilers about how the world works, plot points, and character.

It is best if you’ve seen it but as of writing it right now (early ep 4) there aren’t any spoilers. Once I am a little further ahead then you may want to listen to it.

Again the spoilers will be vague and mild at worst, as it progresses I would recommend listening to tma, but it’s sort of like how while half life knowledge is helpful in hlvrai it isn’t exactly necessary to enjoy hlvrai bc it’s different enough from it to not really matter (?) I hope that makes sense.

Asks rules

- No telling [ player ] exactly what happens ex : “omg [ player ] when you weren’t looking [ npc ] said this very important thing that is supposed to be kept secret for lore reasons”

- Please avoid asks like “tell this character they’re pretty” while I appreciate the compliment, I am trying to write a story and want to keep things as on topic as possible. Instead tell me on my main if you like the art, I’ll probably reply with a doodle or something, just not on here.

- Less so of a rule but more so of a general statement, I will be avoiding asks that either are too close to what happens or if answering would mean progressing the story too quickly, there’s a lot I want to happen and I want time to do it all.

- Another one that’s less of a rule and more of a general thing, if I don’t like what you said I won’t be answering.

- I also sometimes just don’t know how to answer some things.

- Please be respectful of the ships I choose to include and don't force your own, ship wars and such will not be tolerated.

- Please be respectful of others and do not spoil anything, not everyone has listened to TMA and knows it's themes.

I will not be answering everything, I cannot always get to every message so please be respectful of that.

Select character

Character abouts! [ Will be updating as I continue to work on the story ]

[ select ] > Mr. Freeman

> Gordon Martinez ‘Martini’ Freeman

30 y.o . 6’0 . 230lb . Romani / Puertorican . male [ he/him ] . bisexual

> Lives in Seattle, MIT graduate, left Black Mesa, works as a librarian IRL but also makes money via streaming video games occasionally, in real time it is 2018.

[ PLAYER ]

> Believes in the paranormal out of fear but tries to rationalize out of denial, he will never admit something is supernatural and will jump through hoops to rationalize even if deep down he does believe.

> Has a son named Joshua Medrano Freeman, who is 6 years old, Gordon and his old partner met in college but split up before Joshua was born, they remain civil but are nothing more to each other than Joshua’s other parent.

> Gordon rents an apartment with 3 rooms, his own room, Joshua’s room, and a third that used to be a guest room but he has so little visitors he’s just chosen to revamp it into a gaming room.

> Gordon works primarily in a library for now as he’s looking for a better job.

> Gordon often wears hoodies, sweaters, t-shirts, crew necks, and any general outfit one would wear at home, long curly hair that is beginning to grey due to stress, unkempt goatee, and almost always wears green tinted glasses [ he doesn’t need glasses he just thinks they’re cool ]

> His hair is usually pulled back in a ponytail but can also be found in a bun or just down.

< [ select ] > Mr. Coolatta

> Thomas ‘Tommy’ Coolatta, primary researcher, and technical head of the institute.

39 y.o . 6’7 . 190lb . Chinese/filipino . Male [ he/him ] . ???

> His father owns the Lambda institute and he grew up in it, he officially started working in the archives when he was 24, and of all the employees in the entire institute he has worked there the longest.

[ NPC ]

> No one knows who his father really is, Tommy being the only one who’s ever actually seen / spoken to him, his father is the real head of the institute but gives most his orders through Tommy, so Tommy is also technically the head as well.

> Not much is actually known about him, besides his father he doesn’t appear to have any other family, nor does he ever speak of his personal life much.

> Tommy primarily works as an archival assistant, specifically in research, he is the one who will verify details regarding statements or do further investigations into aspects of the statements.

> Tommy is quite the colorful character, often wearing colorful clothing and accessories, he seems to think doing so brings some cheer into an otherwise boring environment, he often wears patterned polo shirts, cheap company bracelets, pins, lanyards, pant chains, but is never without his signature multicolor propeller hat.

[pellucid-constellations]

angstober (3)

Prompt: "But I love you"

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

A/n: This takes place at the beginning of civil war :) ANGST!! I love angstober <3

You can also read my angstober drabbles here and here (if you wanna)!!

~~~

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. 

God, how things were supposed to be different. 

Bucky rummaged through a backpack he’d thrown in the corner of your apartment sometime last month. You hadn’t thought much of it at the time. Now, you were left wondering just how many items he’d strewn about his life, a randomized placement of his belongings all ready for him if he needed to bolt. 

Would he take you, too? Were you not something he considered his? 

“Bucky, talk to me. What’s going on?” you tried. You’d already asked that same question in three different ways. After he’d barged through your door with his hoodie drawn up to his chin and his hat low on his forehead, you’d bombarded him with questions. He hadn’t answered any of them. 

And he was wearing gloves. He hadn’t worn gloves around you in a long time. 

“I can’t tell you. Can’t stay here.” 

You were grateful for a response this time, at least. You tracked him with your gaze as he zipped up his backpack and moved through your kitchen, removing pots and pans from your cabinet in a loud, clattering motion. He reached his arm in until his elbow disappeared within the wooden doors and then pulled it back out, a gun now firm in his grip. 

“When did you put that in there?” you startled, uncrossing your arms from your chest. You were still in your pajamas. Bucky had gone to get breakfast and left you in bed. And now he was leaving. 

“A while ago,” he responded, the words barely forming on his lips.

He was moving again before you could truly voice your bafflement, shrugging the bag over his shoulders and readjusting the straps. Panic surged through your chest and up your throat. He really was leaving. You knew he’d been running from something when you met all those months ago, but there had been nothing wrong when he left this morning. You made him feel safe. He wanted to stay with you. He’d told you that himself. 

You reached out a hand and he jolted at the contact, gaze shooting up to meet yours. Your eyes flickered between his own, desperation clear in your expression as you pleaded with him. “Don’t leave. Tell me what’s happened.” 

Your hand burned on his shoulder but you couldn’t remove it. 

He looked almost as ruined as you did, but there was something else behind his eyes. Determination, maybe? Resolve? 

“I can’t.”

It was the shortness that ultimately broke you. You heaved out a pained breath as your waterline filled, letting your hand drop. Your arm swung uselessly down to your side and you bit into your lip as your eyelashes gathered moisture.

Bucky’s stoic demeanor fractured, a tiny sliver showing you the man you’d come to know. The one you’d carved out from cold, hard stone. It had taken you weeks to get him to smile, even longer to get him to finally kiss you. When he spent the night for the first time, he was too stiff to hold you. But that was all different now. He was different now. 

He had told you he wanted to stay. That he wanted to keep you safe. 

You saw that part of Bucky as his lips twisted into an uncomfortable grimace, his arms reaching out to haul you into his chest. 

“C’mere,” he grunted out, chin resting on the crown of your head. “C’mere, honey, I’m sorry.” 

You cried into his chest, hiccuping as you asked, “Why are you leaving? I can come with you. I want to help you.” 

He shushed you, running gloved hands along the back of your head. “Can’t, baby. Where I’m headed isn’t safe. I’ve been real lucky for a while but that luck’s run out.” 

“Bucky, you can’t—” 

“I’m not good for you here. I need to keep you safe and I can’t do that while I’m being selfish. I’d give anything to bring you with me, but I won’t put you in danger.” 

You pressed your nose into his chest, willing the feel of him into your memory. You could hardly breathe like this, but that didn’t matter. When he left, when he was really and truly gone, you probably wouldn’t be able to breathe at all. 

Your hardwood floor creaked beneath your feet as Bucky stepped closer and burrowed you further into his body, his lips pressing hard against your forehead. You hated this apartment—this tiny, cloistered space in Romania. It would only serve as a reminder of him once he was gone. 

Maybe you would move. 

But would he be able to find you, once it was safe? Would he come looking? 

The thought made your chest constrict. What if he never came back? 

Bucky pulled back from you, taking your face into his palms. His face scrunched up in displeasure at the tears still glistening on your cheeks, and he tried to remedy them with the pad of his thumb. They kept coming, even when you’d stopped crying. 

“I have to go. Longer I stay here, the more danger you’re in.”

Your next words fell from your lips without hesitation, tears thick in your tone as you stressed, “But I love you.” 

Bucky froze, mouth parting. You’d said it with so much sadness, so much heaviness in the words he’d been aching to hear for so long. You hadn’t said them yet because you didn’t want to scare him off. 

But he was leaving now. There was nothing to lose. 

The kiss he pressed to your lips was hard and rushed and a breath left his nose with so much tension a low groan accompanied the action. His fingers were gripping your jaw and desperately trembling. His feet were slotted between yours and you tugged at his jacket to bring him closer, closer, closer. 

“That’s why I have to leave,” Bucky huffed out against your lips, eyes closed. He couldn’t watch as he left you. “I’m gonna find you again. Even if it’s in another life.” 

[vase-of-lilies]

It's Been a Long Time

❀ WandaNat x Reader (f)

❀ Warnings: SMUT, desperate sex, separation, cannon typical violence, oral (r receiving and w receiving), shmexy toys, use of a strap-on, poly!relationship, pet names (baby, honey, sweetheart), tattooed reader (just a small one on her chest), nats and Wanda's mommy milkers, overstimulation, body worship, lots of orgasms, this is just super smutty and I hope you like it lol, sadness, tears, angst, captivity (not of reader), mommy kink (not MDLG), use of a butt plug and lube, female masturbation, voyeurism(?), threesome, lots of aftercare, kisses, fluff, and goodness!

❀ Request: SMUT! smexy, depraved smut with lots of overstimulation, body worship, oral, orgasms, and toys, just allll the slutty and smutty goodness 🤤 

❀ A/N: I really hope you like this one! I set it after Captain America: Civil War when Nat exposes everything about the accords and herself, and Wanda goes to the prison on the ocean thingy. So they both go home to their girlfriend who just misses them like crazy:( 

When you heard the news of the Avengers getting caught, your heart broke. The two women you loved were a part of the team, and their getting caught was the first thing on your list you were worried about, besides them getting killed, of course. Natasha and Wanda had fallen for you when you approached them while they were having coffee one morning. You had noticed that Wanda had dropped her wallet, so you quickly went to return it to her. 

Unbeknownst to you, that day would change the trajectory of your entire life. The two women would smother you with their eternal love for you, take care of you when you were sad, love you when you had a hard time loving yourself, and leave you alone when you wished. They understood you, knew you, and just loved you. They showed their love in different ways;

Wanda showed it through words. Telling you how beautiful you are, saying she loves you, holding your hand in public, kissing your head when you woke up every morning. Natasha, she was a little different. Being more conservative and hidden, she showed her love in smaller ways. Protective looks at someone who is looking at you, gifting you flowers she picks from the compound garden, and tickling your back during movie nights. 

Unfortunately, both women knew what they signed up for when they decided to join the Avengers. They put the people of their city before themselves. It was heroic, and you loved that about them. They were admirable and inspiring. Even when Wanda made a mistake with her powers, you still loved her. Even when Natasha turned her back on you and Wanda, you still loved her the same as well. 

As you were watching TV, an emergency broadcast sounded, and you watched in horror as the Avengers were seen being escorted onto a large plane, going only god knows where. Clutching the shirt-sewn pillow, you hold it close to your heart, silent tears falling down your cheeks. Wanda looked heartbroken at what was unraveling, and Natasha looked defeated as she was escorted into a police car. 

You glared red-fiery bullets at Tony Stark, who stands with Vision, Spider-Man, and other people you thought were your friends. They were watching their team get captured, rendering the city in danger as the most powerful of people were locked away. Reaching for your phone, the first person you call is Wanda. No answer. Next, you call Natasha. No answer. In a fit of desperation, you call Tony. 

"What the fuck did you do?? Why are you doing this??" You scream into the phone as you hear Tony's smug voice on the other side. He sighs and lets you scream at him. 

"Y/n, listen to me. They are a danger to-" You didn't let him finish.

"They are your fucking team, Stark. You are more dangerous than all of them combined! They have friendships that can never be undone, promises that can't be broken, lovers-" your voice cracks and you whimper. "Fuck you, Stark. Fuck you, and fuck your so-called morals." Before he got a chance to respond, you hung up the phone. 

The channel changes on its own, and you see Natasha's picture on the screen. A headline below her says, "Natalia Alianovna Romanova, the assailant behind the escape of Captain America." You shook your head, knowing they wouldn't arrest her if it was on her watch. She would be on the run, and with everyone knowing who she is, she won't be coming home to you. 

Wanda, you didn't know where she went or what happened to her. You prayed and begged someone, anyone, to bring them back to you. But nothing, no matter how hard you tried, they were nowhere to be found. 

It would be weeks before you showered again. You were staying up late every single night worrying, researching, and calling people, trying to find where your lovers were. You tried looking for the sightings of Natasha, but no luck. You tried finding out where Wanda was by tracking the plane number you saw on the TV. But no luck either; it was military-protected. But one day, an unknown number called you. Immediately you picked up, not caring who it was. 

"Y/n? This is Rogers. I can't talk long, but Wanda and Natasha are coming home. I have them located, and they are both safe. Give them time, but soon." 

You sighed in relief and responded, "Where are they? Please, I need to know; I need to know where they are!" 

Steve was quiet for a second, "I'm sorry, I can't disclose that information right now. Give them a week, and they'll be home, ok?" He waited for a response, but you hung up and threw your phone to the other side of the room. 

You were angry and worried about your girlfriends. Steve was a little help with the burner phone call, but it still made you infuriated that he didn't tell you where they were. You knew that he couldn't be tracked fully with a burner phone, but you didn't know what technology Stark would use to capture him again. 

Just like Steve said, it would be another week before you would see them. So you cleaned yourself up a little bit. You showered, tidied your room and the rest of the apartment, and decided to cook an actual meal—a simple [enter your favorite easy meal here] dinner for you and your lovers. 

That is, whenever they came back to you. 

~~~~~~~

You had got through the week Steve said they would be here, but they still did not show. Maybe they forgot about you? Maybe they didn't love you anymore. Those were the thoughts coming through your head 24/7. After the phone call with Steve, you felt something. You felt a spark of hope and were confident they were going to come home, yet they didn't.

But the day came when they finally did—the day started as every other one, in bed, unmotivated to do anything. You had gotten in the habit of staring at the picture of you, Natasha, and Wanda in central park. You were squished in between the two of them, their lips connecting to both of your cheeks as you smiled in the middle of them. It was your favorite picture of you three, as it brought back memories from the "good ole' days."

You had found that showering washed the pain away for a temporary time. The water flowed down your skin with ease and, in turn, felt like you were a new woman. Today was no different. You got in the shower, and like every other day, you continued to pray and beg anything for your lovers to come home. With every bubble that fell through the drain, you counted your wishes. It felt useless trying to hope for them to come home anymore. But you knew you had to keep trying. 

After you got dressed, you went to the kitchen for some breakfast. [Enter your favorite breakfast food here] sounded amazing, and once you made it, it hit the spot. You were in your thoughts for a long time before you noticed a small knock at the door. You figured it was a package you ordered, so you answered it. 

To your utter surprise, Wanda and Natasha stood right in front of you. In the flesh, alive and breathing. Wanda was in a musty blue jumpsuit, and Natasha looked like she was in hiding, her red hair growing long over her shoulders. You stared in disbelief at the two women in front of you. Not sure if they were real or not. 

"I-is it you?" You whisper, tears prickling in your eyes. Wanda smiled, lifting her hand to cradle your cheek. 

"It is, sweetheart. We're home." Wanda responded, a sad smile painted on her lips. 

You let out a sob and wrapped your arms around the two of them. You hid your face in Natashas' chest as you pulled Wanda closer to you. "Wh-why did you leave? Why didn't y-you come home?" You whimpered, your voice muffled by the soft material of Nats' maroon shirt. 

The two women looked at each other, and Natasha took the lead. 

"We were caught in the wrong place at the wrong time милая (honey), and we had to go away for a little bit." She said, giving your head a soft kiss as she ran her fingers through your wet hair. You sigh in relief as you feel Wanda give you a reassuring squeeze, and you look up at her as well. 

"Are you both ok? Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?" You ask quickly, pulling away and scanning the two of them, running your eyes over their body and looking at their faces to see if they wince in pain anywhere. You feel lighter as you see them shake their heads, and you grab their hands and pull them inside. Inside their home, where they belong with you. 

"I saw it all happen, o-on the news… I wish I could have been there t-to help you somehow. I just f-feel like I sh-should hav-have done something." You cry, sitting down on the kitchen chair you pull from the table. 

"Baby, please don't feel that way. You didn't have to do a thing. We made a sacrifice so that you would be safe. So don't you dare take the blame for any of this, do you understand?" Wanda says, kneeling in front of you and taking your hands. Her thumb rubs tender circles on the backs of your hands. 

You nod in understanding and look down at your hands in sadness. "I just missed you both so much. I thought you were never coming home." 

Your small voice breaks their hearts, and Wanda cups your cheeks, pulling you in for a passionate kiss. Gratefully and happily, you return the kiss, wrapping your arms around her neck to bring her closer to you. Natasha kneels next to Wanda, and after pulling away from Wanda, you lean over to the redhead, kissing her lips with just as much passion. "My god, I missed you both so much. I was going insane without you two here."

They both smile from below you, and each takes your hand in theirs. "We've missed our baby, and I think we all need a bit of relief from our time away…." Natasha smirks at you and Wanda, and in sync, you both nod. Understanding what she is saying in an instant. 

They pulled you to the bedroom, their eyes never leaving yours. They tenderly laid you down on the bed, placing your head gently on a pillow. Both pairs of hands explore your body as if it is a newfound land that no one has laid eyes on before. Your shirt comes off, and you are left bare for them. They both pause as they look at you from above. 

Wanda speaks first, "Did you get this while we were gone, baby?" Her soft fingers trace the fine line of a tattoo in the valley of your breasts. The lines connect to make three naked women intertwined together, all holding each other tightly. A heart at the crown of each woman's head and you right in the middle. 

"It's beautiful, honey. Gorgeous." Natasha says, leaning down to kiss along the ink lining your skin. "I've missed this body, your scent, just everything about you милая (honey)." She talks, her lips kissing down your belly to the waistband of your silk shorts. 

Wanda sits at your side, smiling as she kisses your lips, holding onto your hand as she moves down your neck to your chest as well. She takes one of your perked nipples into her mouth, smiling as a moan escapes your throat. You haven't been intimate in so long, and it felt so good to feel this close to your lover again. "O-oh.." You let out a small gasp as Natasha gently pull your shorts down your legs, a hum coming from above you as Nat looks hungrily at your soaking wet pussy. 

"So wet, baby. Is this all for us?" Nat asks, softly raking her fingers over your inner thighs, coaxing your legs open even more. You nod in response, your cheeks heating up at how exposed you are. "I need a taste…." She whispers, and Wanda nods at her. 

Natasha lays on her belly, spreading your petals wide open. Slick strings from her fingers as she prods at your hole, and you moan softly. She licks a long stripe from the bottom of your cunt and circles around your clit, making you squeeze Wanda's hand tighter. 

Her mouth feels so fucking good on your pussy, and you arch your back, pushing your breast further into Wandas' mouth. She rubs your other hardened nipple in her fingers; like a bud of clay, she's rolling into a perfect ball, and pleasure courses through your body. Your wiggling body makes it hard for Natasha to focus, and Wanda takes note of this, so she moves to straddle your lap, keeping your lower body still. 

Your eyes close as both women dominate you, Wanda pleasuring your breasts as Natasha eats you out like she's never before. You grasp the sheets in your hands, your orgasm coming closer and closer until it hits you. As you cum with a shout, Natasha enters two fingers inside of your clenching cunt, smirking as you squeeze her fingers extra tight from not cumming in so long. "So delicious, милая (honey), so fucking good." She whispers from in between your legs, your juices covering her lips. 

"Have a taste, my love," Nat says, sitting up and removing her fingers from your pussy, moving them up to Wandas' lips. She closes her mouth around Nats' fingers and moans softly. 

"Mmmm, baby, you taste like strawberries and cream…" Wanda says, smiling down at your fucked out face. A thin sheet of sweat covers your forehead, and you return a smile. 

"J-just for you, Mommy…" you whisper, your breath coming in small pants. Nat chuckles lightly and crawls to your side. "And you too, m-mommy…." you add, making sure Nat feels just as much love. 

"Oh, baby, did you think we were done? No, no, no, we have so much to catch up on." Wanda smiles and kisses your lips in a sloppy, desperate kiss. While she is devouring your lips, Natasha makes her way to the closet. She reaches for the box marked "toys" and smiles at your messy handwriting. As she opens the box, she takes out your favorite [enter favorite color and desired size] strap, a powerful vibrating wand, and her favorite toy to torture you with; the ruby-like jeweled butt plug that fits your ass like a glove. 

She turns around with the supplies in her hands, and to no one's surprise, you had managed to get Wanda down to her bra and panties. Her jumpsuit was discarded on the floor by the bed. With her lips glued to yours, Wanda takes your hands and pins them above your head, wanting all of you under her control. You smile as your noses nudge against each other as she pulls away for a second. You look up at her, and your eyes flick from hers to her lips. "You always take my breath away." Nat smiles at your moment with her and sets the supplies at the end of the bed. 

"Alright, it's time for the real fun," Nat says, smiling as she removes her shirt and jeans. You sit up with Wanda sitting next to you, but you are quickly stopped in your tracks as Nat gives you a look that immediately pushes you into submission. As you lay back down, Wanda runs her fingers through your hair, and Nat climbs between your legs once again. 

You watch in anticipation as Nat buckles the harness to her hips, the false cock bobbing in front of her. She rubs her hand over your pussy lips again and gently enters your hole with her finger. Stretching you out to make sure that her cock fits perfectly inside of you. As Wanda sits above you, she continues to brush through your hair with her fingers, something she does as a gesture of love while Natasha takes charge of both of you. 

Nat smiles and seductively holds up the bejeweled butt plug, and you whimper softly, knowing how much you love it yet loathes it at the same time. Natasha would completely understand if you said no to something and would respect it. But this time, you would allow her to do anything to you. 

She gently holds your legs open and puts your ass on her lap, your legs up by her shoulders. She opens the small bottle of lube and puts a small amount on the metal plug as well as your puckering hole. You jump at the slight coolness of the liquid but relax as her warm fingers rub it in, pushing her finger into your ass with ease. You groan softly, turning your head and hiding your face in Wandas' leg. 

She smiles at your shyness and tickles your arm to soothe you as Nat works your ass open for her.  

"Come on, baby, loosen up for me; you used to take me like a champ," Nat says, pushing her fingers in a little deeper. You moan in response, feeling like you haven't been stretched out like this in ages. Well, you haven't, but it still felt like the first time all over again. "I know you can do it, honey, come on, let me in…" she whispers, gently moving her other hand to the top of your cunt, rubbing small circles on your sensitive button to help you relax. 

With a whimper coming from your lips, you relax your lower body in hopes of assisting Nat. With luck, she pushes her fingers to her knuckles and smirks. "Good girl, that's our good girl," She coos and smiles as she pushes her fingers in and out of your tight back hole. "She's so good, isn't she, Wands?"

Wanda hums in agreement, her fingers teasing your nipples once again. "So so good, the best girl." She smiles down at you, chuckling softly as your face contorts into a face of pleasure. You bite your lip and whine at the sudden empty feeling of Nats' fingers leaving you. But you are quickly full again when Nat pushes the plug into your ass, the jewel nestling right between your ass cheeks. 

Nat smiles at her work and rubs your skin softly. "It fits perfectly… red suits you милая (honey). My god, you are so beautiful." She looks over you adoringly and leans down to press a kiss to your bent knee. As she kisses closer to your cunt, Wanda slowly straddles your chest and looks down at you with a smirk. "Do you wanna taste baby?" You nod eagerly, and you link your arms around her legs to pull her closer to your mouth. 

Her pussy drips right over your mouth, and you can hardly contain your excitement. You pull her down to your and suck hard on her clit, making her moan and grip the bed frame in front of her. She arches her back, grinding down on your mouth with pleasure filling her veins. Lust fills her system, and she reaches back to pull on your nipples again, smiling at the vibration of your moans against her clit. 

Natasha leans back as she watches you devour Wanda and smiles as she plays with herself in return. She rubs her clit with her fingers, but it just isn't enough, so she reaches for the vibrator that sits next to her. She turns it on and sighs in relief as she presses the bulb to her aching clit. Throwing her head back in pleasure, she watches the two of you through hooded eyelids, smirking as she matches the movements of Wandas' hips, circling the vibrator one way and then the other. 

Once you sense Wandas' orgasm starts to form, you smile as her moans fill your ears like music, and you gently push your fingers in to help her with that final push of pleasure. She gasps, as does Natasha at the end of the bed, both women coming to their high at the same time. The two of them moan loudly as they both cum, and Wandas' hips come to a stop as she takes in a deep breath. "Oh, baby, you were hungry, weren't ya?" She chuckles and scoots down, leaning over your chest to kiss your lips, tasting herself on her tongue at the same time. 

"Mmm, you taste so good, Wands." You whisper against her lips, and you smile as you take in her soft kisses in return. As Natasha finishes, she hands the vibe to Wanda, who turns around on your belly, so now she is facing Natasha, who has spread your legs wide so they both have unlimited access to your most intimate parts.

Wanda spreads your pussy lips apart and licks small circles on your clit while Natasha pushes the tip of her cock into your hole. Already being stretched out, Nat knows you can take all of her. She places her hands on your thighs and pushes further inside your wet hole, slowly filling you up to the brim. You moan loudly, and you squeeze Wandas' hips as she straddles you. 

You hear the click of the vibrator switch, and you jump as you feel the vibrating against your puffy clit. A loud moan escapes your lips, your legs shaking in response as Wanda circles the vibe in all the right ways. Natasha moves her hips in a smooth rhythm, pulling endless pleasure from your cunt with each thrust. With Wandas' skilled hands with the vibrator and Natashas' cock stretching you out perfectly, you are in a state of euphoria for the first time in a long, long time. 

Your first orgasm hits you like a semi-truck, and you see white. Your pussy walls clench around Natasha's cock like a vice, and your clit pulses against the vibrating head held in Wandas' soft hands. And they are far from done, you know that; Wanda knows that, as does Natasha. They continue to push you to your limits, torturing your cunt in the most loving way possible. 

Your second orgasm hits just minutes later, and your juices squirt from your pussy and onto the sheets just under you. You let out a loud moan and squirm underneath Wanda. "One more, baby, one more just for us." She encourages and turns the vibrator up to its highest setting. You whimper in response, your red puffy cunt getting its last bit of pleasure. Natasha thrusts in and out of your pussy faster, and you are pushed to your third and final orgasm. 

As you are cumming beneath your two lovers, they share their love with a long and loving kiss. Their tongues fight for dominance in the other's mouth. Finally, with gentle care, they move their focus to you. Wanda removes the vibe from your quivering clit, and Natasha slowly removes her cock from your soaking wet hole and gently pulls the plug from your ass. She teases you by pulling it out just a little bit, then pushing it back into its spot again. But finally, she pulls it out and leaves your ass a gaping hole. 

Once Wanda moves from your belly, she begins cleaning everything up, the toys, the pillows, blankets, and other things while Nat helps you. 

Nat smiles and sighs as she massages the skin of your ass and guides you to calm down. She puts her hand gently on your heaving chest, and you follow her breaths as she silently tells you to copy her. You breathe with her, your senses calming down at the moment until you are fully at peace. 

As you lay fucked out, Wanda lifts you into her strong arms, carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up. While Wanda sits you on a towel on the counter, you lay on her chest as Nat fills the tub up with warm, soapy water. Wanda chuckles at your tired look, your slouching body, and your droopy eyes. "We missed you so much, baby. I couldn't stand another day in that stupid prison without you." She says in a soft voice as she wipes your face with a warm washcloth.

You lean into her gentle touches and hum lightly in response, too tired to form complete sentences. Nat chuckles and lifts you into the tub with her, Wanda getting in on the other end and the two women caging you between their entangled legs. "It is so good to be home… to be home with our girl," She says as she holds out her hand for Wanda. 

Wanda solemnly agrees and squeezes Nats' hand, and as your head rests against her breasts, she kisses your forehead. "We won't ever leave you again, honey. Never, ever again. We promise." Wanda nods and softly rubs her hand over your leg, soothing you as you hide your face in Nats' chest. 

You knew that was a promise your two lovers would keep. It was a promise that would never be broken, despite the challenges that were faced in their everyday lives. They loved you far too much to see you heartbroken, and they swore never to leave you broken again.

Ever. 

[msbigredmachine]

Here With Me - A Roman Reigns One-Shot

As the Bloodline Civil War takes an unexpected turn of events, Reader comes up with the perfect pick-me-up for her Tribal Chief. Post-Summerslam 2023.

PAIRING: Tribal Chief!Roman Reigns x OC

Warnings: SMUT

Word count: 6k 

A/N: Dido's "Here With Me" did so much for the writing of this that I had to name the fic after the song.

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

I’m startled awake by the door clicking shut, my eyes remaining closed as he walks into the bedroom of his penthouse suite. I’m laying on my side facing away from him, but he is clear as day in my mind's eye as he tosses the gold title belt on the sofa across the room. His beloved ula fula, the subject of heated combat tonight, follows. The mattress dips as he sits on his side of the bed, letting out a painful exhale. 

My eyes flicker to the digital clock on the nightstand. I returned to the suite right after the main event. It’s currently 1.30 am. I have no idea where he’s been for the last two hours, but I let it slide. He’s come back to me and that’s all that matters.

The pointed silence and the hairs that suddenly stand on the back of my neck tell me he’s staring at me. It’s confirmed when I feel his hand rest on my leg over the white sheets blanketing me. His usually assured, confident touch is sad and distracted. Even in the humming quiet, I can feel the turmoil brewing inside him and understandably so. 

The last few weeks have been a lot for him to take in. Getting pinned in London; tensions exploding in MSG; putting his entire legacy on the line against Jey in Orlando, and tonight, at Summerslam, victory at Tribal Combat. But it’s come at a price, as his family has all but disintegrated now. He is exhausted, physically and emotionally. I could see it in his eyes backstage after the match in spite of his best attempts to conceal his true feelings. For him, tonight’s win feels like a loss.

The second his hand slips away, I miss him. He stands up from the bed and heads to the bathroom. I twist around the bed to face the partially closed door, and hear the shower start. I wait for a while before getting up and making my way to him. His head snaps in my direction when I open the door.

“Babe?” he calls out.

“Yeah, it’s me. Don’t panic,” I try to joke, my smile faltering a little when he merely turns back around and faces the wall. I notice the still visible red marks on his broad back, imprints from the kendo stick and leather strap beatings he endured tonight.

"I'm sorry, I musta woke you," he says, as I pull off the baggy t-shirt that belongs to him over my head. I swap my silk bonnet for a shower cap and open the door to the enclosure. Stepping inside, I immediately jump away in alarm when the water beating down on him splashes onto my skin. It’s boiling hot. 

“Jesus, Ro! You tryin’ to cook yourself?” I exclaim, quickly grabbing the tap, my wrist frantically twisting the knob to adjust the temperature to a less dangerous degree. He hasn’t flinched once. I steer him away from the water, then slip around to his front and wrap him up in a hug that he clearly, desperately, needs. His body stiffens, hesitant at first, before he sags against me and locks his arms around my waist. His face is tucked in the crook of my neck, nestled comfortably like it belongs there. I can feel the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

“It’s okay. Just keep holding me until you���re ready,” I whisper, combing my fingers soothingly through damp strands of his hair as his grip on my waist remains tight. Being the macho hypermasculine entity that he is, I know he doesn’t like it when I see him like this. But relationships are about sticking together through the good times and the bad. I’ll always be there to see him through both.

“I coulda sworn you won your match tonight. What’s wrong?” I lure him in with a coaxing peck to his shoulder, hoping to quicken his response time.

After several seconds of hesitation, he gives in. “I warned them both,” he starts to vent. “I knew it would come to this. You saw for yourself tonight what happens when you become selfish and greedy. All I ever wanted to do was keep my family together, elevate them and their careers. Those two ingrates turned against me and made me out to be some kind of monster. Conspired with the Elders behind my back and questioned my place as the Head of the Table. Now they’re at each other’s throats and our entire family looks weak! I warned 'em, I told 'em-”

"Hey, hey, hey,” I gently shush him, lifting his face so our eyes meet. My heart sinks from how despondent he looks. “Breathe, baby, breathe. Deep breath.” I wait for him to do so, feeling his chest rise and fall against mine, inhaling and exhaling. But his mind is clearly still on his cousins. 

“This is all on them,” he continues. “They refused to see the big picture and now it’s gone to shit.” He licks his lips and his eyes are glazed. “The family wants me to intervene, but fuck that. Not after they tried to destroy everything I’ve worked my ass off for the last three years. As far as I’m concerned, they’re dead to me.”

"Don’t say that. Families fight all the time. It’s going to be fine,” I vow, even though I'm in no position to promise such a thing. “Come here." I gently prompt him to turn around, and watch for a few seconds as the less scalding shower stream pelts his shoulders with water. The tribal tattoo adorning the right side of his back is majestic and intimidating up close, and I never pass up the chance to idolize the intricate design. “I want you to relax for me, okay?”

He reaches out and braces his hands on the wall in front of him while I run mine up his back to slowly knead his shoulders, working the tense flesh. His muscles are tight and I do my best to ease them up with my amateur masseuse skills, gleefully aware that I love touching him anyway.

I move down to the middle of his back, and he starts to relax under my touch. As I’m about to retrace my route, I lean in and press soft kisses to his back right before massaging that same spot. Roman exhales again, suggesting he is calmer now, but only just. He’s a tough man to crack, so it feels good each time I become more conversant with his…complexities, if you will. Our relationship is relatively new…We only just met in February this year. I was not a wrestling fan growing up, but I’ve since plunged headfirst into the circus-like controlled chaos that only a pro wrestler is capable of living in. In my defense, it’s easy to dive in when it’s with a man as sweet, charming and criminally sexy as Roman Reigns. Of course, it’s not all rainbows and roses; his prolonged absences, our bitter exes and his psychotic fan girls spring to mind. But I won't change a thing as it’s only made us stronger together. Every day I wonder where he has been all my life, and I want to be with him forever. Yes. I’m in that tight of a chokehold. It’s a whole lot sexier when he’s actually doing the choking.

“You know, other people woulda buckled under the pressure and responsibility long ago. But here you are, standing tall despite the setbacks. That says a lot about you, big boy,” I say to him, my hands still at work. “You’re still the Champ, the longest reign in the last thirty plus years. The twins may have turned their backs on you, but best believe I won’t. I never will.”

Roman scoffs cynically and shakes his head. “Right. Everyone leaves me in the end. Seth. Mox. My ex-wife. Sami. Even Heyman abandoned me once. Now my own cousins.”

“Well, I ain’t none of them,” I answer smoothly, as he turns around to face me.

“I'm not a bad person, Y/N,” he insists, his eyes pleading, as though he’s desperate for me to believe him. I do. I take his hands in mine and stare into his chocolate-colored eyes. 

“I know you’re not. You’re not afraid to speak your mind, and you don’t take shit from nobody. You’re passionate and you stand your ground and fight for what’s yours. There’s nothing wrong with that at all. In fact, it’s sexy to me.”

His eyes twinkle mischievously at my choice of words. “Sexy, huh?”

“Mm-hmm. I’m learning a lot about this sweet, sexy man I’m sleeping with and falling in love with.”

The sudden silence that follows is amplified by the rush of the shower water. The look in Roman’s eyes is so intense that my knees grow weak. It’s not the most picture-perfect setting to utter the L word for the very first time, but witnessing first-hand the ferocity with which he defends his pride and his legacy has sparked a wave of awe and devotion and yes, love…through me that I can no longer keep to myself. 

"I'm sorry I came back so late. I needed to clear my head,” he says softly, his hand lifting to caress my cheek. The anger in his voice has disappeared, while his eyes and demeanor are much softer…My little declaration has penetrated his armor. He looks down sheepishly at his feet and wets his lips before speaking again. “I kinda feel like I’ve been neglecting you, too…” he adds.

He’s such a sweetheart. To be fair, he’s made up for it by flying me to London, New York and now Detroit to be with him. The beautiful part is, I know I’m not the only one in love…His actions and gestures lately have spoken volumes. But if he’s not ready to say it back, he doesn’t have to. I just need him to know that he has my heart and I’ll always be by his side no matter what. 

Pressing my body more firmly against his, my arms wind around his middle as I leave delicate licks and kisses all over his tattooed pec, right over the spot where his heart beats. I hope every day that it’s me his heart beats for. 

“I know how frustrated you are about what’s going on. It sucks to feel like you’re losing control,” I tell him, staring up at him through my long lashes. “I can do something for you, Daddy. I could give some control back to you. I can make you feel better,” I offer, my voice as soft and seductive and as enticing as what I’m proposing. My mouth applies more pressure to his wet skin, and his breath hitches when I suckle the shell of his earlobe. “However you want me tonight, you can take me. Just say the word and I’m all yours.” My hands slide down to scrape his firm backside, and his dick twitches between our naked bodies, the exact reaction I yearn for. 

For a long moment, he says nothing, only stares at me with his smoldering gaze. The energy simmers between us, and it boils over when he grabs my face and presses his lips to mine. Instantly my skin prickles and my heart pounds as we plunge headlong into each other. Our heads tilt from side to side, our tongues dance together as the water cascades around us, and I lose myself to the heat of our embrace. 

Feeling dastardly, I break the kiss to slip his finger into my mouth. My lips drag along his long index finger, keeping eye contact with him the entire time. I suck on it like I am sucking something else, bigger, and the memory has him groaning deeply, his erection straining impatiently against my belly.

“Get on your knees and do that with my dick,” he orders.

Now we’re talking.

Leaning in for one more kiss, I trail my tongue along his throat and down his torso until I’m kneeling on the tiled floor. I wrap my right hand around the base of his engorged dick and tug gently on it. He lets out a quiet whimper, and it is a massive turn-on to know I can elicit such a response from this specimen of a man. Watching him succumb to me is always sexy as hell.

His cock jumps in my grip when I roll my tongue around the tip. He inhales sharply, moving his hands behind my head, and squirms as I lavishly lick along the underside, teasing him. I luxuriate in his throaty groan as I then slowly make him disappear inside my mouth. I stroke and suck simultaneously, relaxing my throat to take him in deeper with every bob of my head.

"Fuck yeah," he pants, his fingers sinking into my scalp. “Suck my dick, beautiful. Don’t fuckin’ stop...”

Right now, I’m all about obeying Daddy. Staring up at him with hazy eyes, my tongue twirls around the base of his dick again before I switch to more intense suctions, my cheeks hollowing as my mouth glides hungrily up and down his entire length. His moans and gasps echo around the enclosure, causing my pussy to moisten and throb with lust. Gripping the back of my head, he holds me all the way down on him, my lips touching his pelvis. He withdraws and then pushes back in, rolling his hips to go even deeper down my throat. "Shit, your mouth feels so good, babe," he moans, a ravenous look in his eyes. My fingers slip underneath to play with his balls while I suck and tongue him down, and I’m rewarded with another desperate groan. I’m so aroused knowing I’m bringing him so much pleasure. 

Suddenly his pace quickens, his hips pumping, fucking my mouth more aggressively. Saliva spills down to my chin as his long, thick cock slides more easily in and out of my mouth. Roman lets out another moan before holding my head down again, exploding down my throat with a harsh grunt. He collapses against the shower wall, catching his breath as I pop him out of my mouth and pat his cock against my tongue. Once upon a time, I used to be uncomfortable letting my exes finish in my mouth. I talked about it with Roman, and he was fine with it. But there was something in me that wanted to please him to the fullest, and not long after our first time together, I changed my mind. It’s an experience I learned to fully commit to, and I haven’t looked back since.

"That was fuckin’ amazing. Come here," Roman lauds, tugging me up on my feet and sweeping his lips along mine. "I'm so glad you were awake." The timbre of his voice, deep and laden with desire, sprouts goosebumps all over my skin. 

"I don’t sleep as good without you," I reply, running my fingers again through his hair. He leans down and scoops my right breast into his mouth. I moan as the sensation zips straight to my loins. His hands glide down my back to squeeze and caress my ass. He keeps me tight against him, pressing himself firmly on my stomach. Feeling him so turned on sends more chills through my body. 

"You know we ain’t done, right?" he says, “We just gettin’ started, baby girl.”

"I hope so..." I reach behind him to turn off the shower. Handing him one of the bathrobes, I wrap myself in another one and open the shower door, taking his hand and leading him back to the bedroom.

We stand at the side of the bed and he undresses me, dragging the robe off my body. I can’t help but blush as he ogles me like he’s seeing me naked for the very first time. He cups my breasts, rolling them in his hands as he kisses me passionately. I tug his robe down his shoulders as I kiss him, my tongue bossily claiming every inch of his mouth as my own. His hands travel all over my naked body, heating me up with his stimulating caresses. He tells me all the time how much he loves my curves, but this is more than that. He’s prepping me for an onslaught. He is about to manhandle me like the sex god that he is, and my breathing quickens and my loins pool with anticipation.

Roman detaches his lips from mine out of nowhere, a devious smile on his gorgeous face. He shoves me onto the bed, flat on my back right on the edge with my legs spread. I can’t hold back my moan as he strokes his dick while stepping between my thighs. The sight of his muscular right arm flexing as his fingers strum his long, hard cock, makes my clit throb. 

Ever observant, Roman notices me staring and smiles smugly. “You like this baby? Want me to jack off for you?” he asks, tugging and smacking his dick a little harder, a bead of pre-cum oozing out the tip, and my thighs clamp together to relieve the maddening pressure between them.

“Dude, no! I want it in me,” I practically admonish him, almost offended that he thinks I want anything else. I’m about to bust right now just looking at him.

His smile widens, and he takes my knees and yanks them in opposite directions. He’s enjoying this, torturing me, making me beg for him. “My little slut is so needy. Don’t worry, baby, Daddy will give you what you want.”

As his face nears mine, I instinctively reach up to touch him, but he grabs my wrists and pushes them back down to the mattress above my head.

"Uh-uh. I got plans, baby girl," he informs me with a brief kiss. He searches around for what ends up being his bathrobe and draws the long white belt off, twisting it around his hands and tugging it ominously. We lock darkened eyes, and his tongue swishes hungrily across his lips.

“Gimme your hands.”

I obey. He takes my right hand first, and then my left, crossing my wrists together and winding the belt firmly around them, before pushing my hands back above my head. I’m flat on my back and all tied up with my ass halfway on the bed, legs spread, naked, cunt exposed and at his mercy. I love it. I love that he trusts me and is comfortable enough with me to explore his kinky side. I trust him, too. I’m proud to be the fucktoy of my Tribal Chief.

“Jesus, you’re so fuckin’ hot,” he groans, his eyes raking down my prone frame like he’s famished. My breath catches as I watch him tie his wet hair in his trademark man bun. Then, he bends down between my legs, breathes hard on my clit and then sticks his tongue out to lap at my folds. Right away my body jerks, blooming with sensual heat. He starts licking me with longer strokes, working his tongue all over the surface of my pussy lips, then he breaches, jabbing his tongue in and out of me with expert precision. The quiet of our room amplifies the erotic audio between us; my staccato breaths, his lazy slurping, my wet pussy splashing against his deadly tongue. Then, to murder me, he closes his mouth around my clit and starts sucking it lightly. That’s a big ass mouth, and it takes everything in me to not scream from how good he’s working me. He keeps glancing up at me; I know he’s getting off to my moans and my attempts to grind against his face. He takes me hostage, his muscled arms winding around my thighs to hold me down while he feasts. His soft groans against my flesh, the warmth of his breath, the scratch of his beard on my inner thighs…The combined stimulation is toe-curling, with wave after wave of pleasure bombarding me like a thunderstorm.

“Don’t come yet,” he instructs unexpectedly, and I’m about to cry. His mouth feels so damn good. He continues sucking and licking, wreaking havoc on my sensitive core. I grip the sheets tighter as my back arches off the bed. “Fuck, Roman, please!” I cry out, damn near begging for release.

Of course, my pleas are ignored. He twists his tongue inside me, gifting me with more strokes over my pussy and my engorged bundle. The decadent rhythm of his mouth and tongue on me is edging me dangerously closer to a mind blowing nut. Just when I’m certain I’m about to disobey him in the worst way, he pulls away, his full lips glossy and shining in the lonely lamplight by the bedside. I don’t know whether to be upset or relieved. He licks all the way up to my chest and clasps my left breast in his hand, worrying the sensitive nipple between his fingers while sucking my other breast in his mouth. 

"Imma fuck the shit outta you," he whispers to me in a rough and raspy voice, his dark eyes gleaming.

His promise is a direct hit to my groin. "Do it, Daddy. Do that shit," I gasp, squirming under his touch.

He brushes our mouths together, and I sigh softly as my own juices melt from his tongue onto mine. Roman stands upright at the bed’s edge, bends his knees and rubs the tip of his shaft along my slick, softened folds. He lunges forward in one fluid motion, his lips parting in a moan as he slowly slides inside me. I bite down on my bottom lip, my eyes glazing over with pleasure when he draws back out, leaving just the tip, before plunging in again with a sharp snap of his hips. It feels like the wind has been knocked out of me.

"I'm inside of you, baby. This what you want? Want me to take this pussy?" he asks with another deep thrust, his big dick nestled in my warm wetness, and it’s driving me wild.

"Yes, take your pussy Daddy, fuck me," I plead, my voice catching on the desire and lust washing over me. 

With that information, he hoists my legs onto his shoulders and picks up the pace, pushing in deeper and filling me to the brim like he always does. I’ve told him more than once that he belongs inside me, and the pure pleasure in his eyes every time we fuck says he agrees wholeheartedly.

"Shiiit, baby, right there, that feels so good…" I whine, feeling him nudge right up against my hilt. He pulls back for a second, and I watch as he holds my legs open and a thick glob of saliva spills from his mouth and onto my pussy. Before I can fully process this, he slams back into me, more easily now, snatching my breath from my lungs. His fingers grasp my hips as he pounds me, slow and balls-deep, to the point that I’m seeing stars. My restrained hands claw at the sheets above me, searching for some kind of leverage as he dicks me down. He has total control of my body and he’s using that power to make me take every inch of him, literally and otherwise. My eyes squeeze shut, mouth falling open as my chest begins to clog and my head begins spinning from his long, lethal strokes. 

His hulking upper body closes the space between us and descends on top of mine, bringing us chest to chest. "Breathe, sweetheart," he tells me, and on command, I draw in a raspy breath, alleviating the discomfort in my chest. His evil little smirk tells me he is enjoying every second of my agony. His arms stretch upwards, brushing over the cotton material of the belt securing my wrists and twining his fingers around mine. His muscles flex and ripple as he keeps pumping into me. He nuzzles the spot where my neck and shoulder meet and bites down on it, making me call out his name.

"Goddamn, this pussy good as fuck. Every damn time," he grunts. His hands tighten around mine as his pounding thrusts switch to salacious rolls of his hips, grinding deliciously against me while he swallows my moans, his tongue slipping inside my mouth for another hot, sloppy kiss. My legs wrap around his waist, my ankles locked behind his back to keep him to me. 

"Tell me again, baby. Tell me you love me,” he rasps in the middle of our intense kissing.

“I love you, Daddy, mmm,” I moan back, my heart pounding as hard as he is pounding me. It’s a stunning mix of the emotional high of love and the carnal rush of lust that I’ve never felt before with anyone else. 

“Yeah, you love me?” He searches my eyes, as engulfed in the throes of passion as I am.

“I do, Roman, I love you so fuckin’ much...unnhh my god…”

He has moved off of me, seizing my legs from around his waist and shoving my knees into the mattress. There’s no time to miss the warmth of his body as he’s back to his rough, brutal strokes, drilling me over and over, stuffing my pussy with his cock. It’s like the animal in him has been unleashed, months of family strife spilling over and transferred to me via his increasing aggressiveness. As my orgasm builds in my stomach, I flex against my restraints again, my fingers craving to dig into his skin, to sink into him the way he’s sinking into me. With one more suffocating thrust, I break at last, and my eyes roll into the back of my head, my moans ringing around the entire suite as I tremble beneath him. His arrogant chuckle tickles my ears, clearly reveling in the blissful state he’s put me in.

Before I can blink, he grabs my waist and flips me roughly onto my belly, bending me over the side of the bed. Hovering over me, he unties the belt binding my hands, and I assume I’m free. But then, he tugs both my arms behind my back and re-ties my wrists together. I’m still recovering from the shock of my orgasm and this new position when his dick slots back in my cunt, and my mind is wiped blank, a strangled moan escaping my lips. Roman gives a few short, stabbing thrusts inside me before finding a rhythm he enjoys.

"God, you feel fuckin’ amazing, baby, so tight and wet for me. Damn,” he hisses behind me. Using his right hand, he slaps my left ass cheek and jiggles it. I gasp from the pain and the pleasure, making my pussy squeeze around his dick with a force that has us both groaning. My fingers scrape against his pelvis as he keeps his momentum, sliding in and out of me, in and out. Oh, fuck, it feels sooo good! He’s so long and girthy that I feel like I’m being split open, but I melt into submission and take it like the fucktoy that I am. 

His husky groans are my soundtrack as he fucks me into the bed at a savage pace, having his way with me. Clutching my ass in large handfuls, he spreads my cheeks open and plunges his dick deeper inside me, forcing me up on the tips of my toes. Using his thumb to scoop up my juices, he circles it around the puckered hole of my second opening, a keening cry tumbles out of me and into the sheets as he pushes it deep into the tight entrance. 

“Too bad we forgot the lube, I’da fucked this pretty ass all night long,” he says with another slap on my backside, and I can only whimper in response. Pinned face-down to the sheets, I can feel all of it. His thumb fucking my asshole, his magic cock stretching my other hole wide open, his powerful tree trunk like legs barricading mine against the side of the bed. My body is so riled up that my pussy reacts by leaking all over his cock, the gush of my nectar sending a pleasurable sensation through us both. 

“Mm-hmm, make a mess on my dick, baby, keep comin’ all over it,” he taunts me. He lifts both my legs off the floor and onto the bed, arching my back and spreading my knees wide. From there, he wraps his hand around my hip, his fingers pressing into my flesh, and he rocks me back and forth on that big ass dick, making me move with him. We moan together at how good we’re making each other feel. Every sound resonates through my heated body; the inevitable squelches of my dripping cunt, our skins smacking lewdly together, our sex filling the air with a familiar primal scent that belongs to no one but us. 

My brain is on sensory overload as he speeds up his thrusts, his balls slapping against my clit as he hammers into my pussy with newfound aggression. The pressure is building inside me at a dizzying, alarming rate, so much so that I use my bound hands to push again at his lower abs. This time I succeed in pushing him off, but only for a second.

“What’chu doin’? Don’t run, c’mere,” he growls, sliding his dick back in me right before it slips out, and I cry out as he impales me hard on his shaft. He spanks my ass hard for my bad behavior. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere. Take this fuckin’ dick.” 

Seizing my wayward hand in one of his, he buries himself in me, deep-diving in my g-spot, making my walls contract around his dick again. My voice is all but gone, I’m that spent. But Roman wants more. He’s an expert at coaxing more out of me even when I have nothing left.

"Tell me who you belong to, huh. Who’s my slut?" he demands, giving my ass an underhand slap.

"I'm your slut," I slur.

"What’chu say?"

"I'm your slut, Daddy," I enunciate with great effort, inebriated in a cocktail of love and ecstasy.

Another stinging smack on my butt.

"Louder." 

"I'm your slut!" I bellow, my voice cut off when Roman pins me down by the back of my neck, my cheek pressed into the mattress. This forces a deeper arch in my back, opening me up to be plowed mercilessly by his dick. The pressure of his fingers on both sides of my throat has me struggling for breath. I’m high from overwhelming pleasure right now, and that menacing coil that’s been winding in my belly finally snaps again. 

“Ohmygod…ohmygod…fuck, fuck, fuck!” My body explodes again, and I’m shaking like I’ve been possessed by a supernatural entity. I know Roman can feel it too, as he’s moaning and gasping, a handful of my vibrating ass cheek in his grasp because the grip of my pussy is about to break his dick in half. I’m reduced to a weak, moaning mess as somehow he continues fucking me senseless. Then, with a loud, hoarse grunt, he yanks his dick out of me. One squeeze is all he needs, expletives tumbling around my name as he comes all over my ass, warm, thick droplets spilling onto my backside. I can hear the wet, slippery skin on skin contact as he strokes out his nut, and the sound arouses me despite my thoroughly fucked disposition. 

“Fuck!” he moans out, leaning tiredly into me, his drained cock mashed against my ass. “Damn, baby. Damn.”

The rest of my lifeless body melts onto the bed, my arms limp on my lower back, my mouth hanging open. I’m barely cognizant of him loosening the belt from my wrists. When he’s done, he seizes my ass cheeks with both hands, slapping them together one last time before walking away from the destruction on the bed. I haven’t moved an inch. My ass is still in the air and my eyes are starting to drift shut. It won’t be the first time he’s fucked me right to sleep. However, before I succumb to the darkness, his deep voice rouses me. 

“Don’t go to sleep yet, baby. Come here.”

I force my eyes open and lift my head to search for him. He’s stretched out on the other side of the bed, watching me with unabashed amusement.

“We ain’t done?” I mewl, exhausted.

“Nope. But we’re taking a little break for now. Come sit on top of Daddy.”

That’s a dangerous position to be in, especially as his dick is still hard and covered in layers of my cum. But how can I ever resist my man? With all the strength I have left, I crawl up the bed towards my lover. His brawny arms wrap around my body and ease me on top of him. He grabs his bathrobe and wipes his mess off my backside, before rubbing my back and my thigh with those big callused hands of his. He feathers a kiss on my forehead, my nose and then my mouth, in the sweetest, most tender of kisses. "You're so good to me, baby. I appreciate you so much," he whispers against my lips.

"Anything for you, baby," I remind him, dabbing away the sweat from his forehead with the bathrobe. "Do you feel better?"

"I do." His soft, beautiful eyes gaze into mine, observing me. “I know that you worry about me a lot, and I’m sorry,” he says.

"Don’t ever be sorry. I always worry about the people I love. I just want you to be okay," I answer. 

"I know, and that means a lot to me. You have no idea how much you mean to me, baby girl. I think about you all the time...I feel at home every time I’m out there performing for the fans, but coming home to you is always my top priority," he tells me. His eyes shine with emotion. "I love being with you. I love calling you mine and me, yours. I’m so happy you love me, because I love you too baby, so much."

Oh my god. He’s said it. I’m not imagining it this time. Tears spring to my eyes but I quickly blink them away. "I love you, Roman," I breathe, and press my lips to his, grateful to have this amazing man in my life. Our mouths move sensually together as I glide my palms down the side of his face, smoothing out the bristles of his beard. He lets out a throaty moan at my touch, at my kiss. I could stay like this forever, but my baby needs his rest.

“You should get some sleep. You had a long night tonight,” I say. 

He raises an eyebrow at me. “I think you’ve forgot when I said we’re just getting started. It’s your turn to fuck me.”

“Damn, you were being for real huh.”

“Course I was. You’re my little fucktoy, aren’t you?” Two of his fingers rub across my bottom lip before slipping into my mouth, as he hypnotizes me with his smoldering, effortlessly sexy stare. “I can use you however I want, however long I want, as many times as I want. Right?”

I may be fatigued from the barrage of orgasms he’s blessed me with tonight, but I’ve since realized that no matter how tired I feel, I’m still greedy for that big ol’ dick. He’s turned me out and turned me into a raging nympho in the process. I nod thirstily, gasping around his fingers as I feel his dick stiffen against the swollen mound of my cunt, ready for me again. 

“Good girl.” His fingers slide from my mouth to join the rest of their counterparts down south. Together, the ten of them gather the supple cheeks of my ass, molding, caressing, a devilish twinkle in Roman’s eyes at the hunger shining in mine. “Recess is over sweetheart,” he announces. “Ride this dick. And this time, I’m nuttin’ all up in that sweet pussy of yours.”

Fuck, I'm such a slut. It’s almost embarrassing, the way my already battered pussy instantly flutters at his low, husky tone, at the thought of getting filled up with his seed. I reach down to grip his cock, sliding the tip along my wet slit to lube it with more of my juices. The shiver of his big body as I stroke him sends a thrill through me. His big hands envelop my hips once more as I lower myself down on his waiting erection, sending a jolt of electricity through our bodies as we begin the eternal, spellbinding dance of lovers all over again.

THE END

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The good girl in me wants so badly to apologize for writing so much smut, but dammit I’m not sorry! Roman is sexy af lol

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Banner made by me. All Roman gifs by @romanreigns​. Credit to owners of the other pics and gifs.

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[poohsources]

🐝  *  ―  𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑳𝑬𝑮𝑬𝑵𝑫 𝑶𝑭 𝑲𝑶𝑹𝑹𝑨 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺.

❛  so, i sort of started a civil war ...  ❜ ���  i am so sorry for turning my back on you as my mentor.  ❜ ❛  i needed to understand what real suffering was, so i could become more compassionate to others.  ❜ ❛  what's the big idea with making me train this early in the morning? the morning is evil.  ❜ ❛  oh, i'm sorry. did i put you in a difficult position by fighting the giant force of pure evil that was going to destroy the whole world? maybe your administration could have handled that.  ❜ ❛  fighting is something the old me would do. that always made things worse.  ❜ ❛  let's go on a vacation, just the two of us. anywhere you want.  ❜ ❛  it's all right. people usually assume that i'm daddy's helpless little girl, but i can handle myself.  ❜ ❛  the world is in trouble ... i have to go help.  ❜ ❛  i'm impressed. no one has ever gotten the better of me like that.  ❜ ❛  i assure you, i have a plan. and i'm saving you for last; then you'll get your duel, and i will destroy you.  ❜ ❛  when we hit our lowest point, we are open to the greatest change.  ❜ ❛  i did what i had to do to survive and protect my little brother.  ❜ ❛  and ... what am i going to find if ... i get through this?  ❜ ❛  we should always learn from those who came before us, but we must also forge our own path.  ❜ ❛  why don't you come and find out?  ❜ ❛  if you look for the light, you can often find it. but if you look for the dark, that is all you will ever see.  ❜ ❛  you need to make decisions based on what you want. don't make the same mistakes i did.  ❜ ❛  i don't know what i'm supposed to be doing half the time.  ❜ ❛  right, friends. no, no, i didn't mean to imply.  ❜ ❛  i do like the idea of putting you on a train and sending you far, far away.  ❜ ❛  you need me, but i don't need you.  ❜ ❛  you swore your loyalty to me and i gave you a chance at greatness. this is how you repay me?  ❜ ❛  i told you dating a teammate would be a bad idea.  ❜ ❛  stick around five minutes and you'll find out who's bluffing.  ❜ ❛  wait! we can't fight them all. we need to be smart about this.  ❜ ❛  you know, it's okay to be scared. the important thing is to talk about our fears, because if we don't, they throw us out of balance. i'm always here for you, if you want to talk.  ❜ ❛  what i'm trying to say is, as much as you drive me crazy ... i also think you're pretty amazing.  ❜ ❛  see, that's what i admire about you, [ name ]: your willingness to go to extremes in order to get what you want. it is a quality we both share.  ❜ ❛  ending a relationship is kind of like pulling off a bloodsucking leech. you just gotta rip it off and get it over with. you'll feel a lot better afterwards. trust me.  ❜ ❛  don't tell me you are still mad about everything that happened?! i did some good things, too!  ❜ ❛  all right, hold on. will you quit ignoring me and tell me what's going on?  ❜ ❛  how about, for now, i just promise not to show up at your house and attack you again?  ❜ ❛  what would you do, if you were in charge? help me be more like you.  ❜ ❛  i wish you were putting up more of a fight, but it was still fun.  ❜ ❛  please, just let me say one thing, then i'll never contact you again.  ❜ ❛  i'm not sure i'll ever be able to forgive you. but that doesn't mean i shouldn't try.  ❜ ❛  i came here to look you in the eye and tell you that you have no power over me. i will no longer be scared of you.  ❜ ❛  but if you had any other options, you wouldn't be here now, would you? we may have been enemies once, but for now, our interests align.  ❜ ❛  you don't have to apologize for anything. i'm just so happy you're here now.  ❜

[writing-house-of-m]

The Rescue

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Genre: Fluff (mostly hurt/comfort)

Warnings: Talks of torture and hurting Wanda, nightmares, yelling at Steve, Civil War drama

Word count: 2446

Summary: You rescue Wanda from the Raft

A/N: This was supposed to just be rescuing Wanda from the Raft but I didn't know where to end it so it's a little bit more than that and very fluffy in my opinion 😌 Inspired by this post. Have fun reading and let me know what you think!

When you found out what happened after the announcement of the accords, to say you were angry was an understatement.

You had to leave before even getting to say your bit on why you wouldn't be signing any paper that had to do with the new contract. Through some gossip from a random agent on the mission you were a part of you found out about how out of control the whole situation had gotten.

As soon as you heard about the splitting of the team and that half of them were imprisoned on the Raft you left your post. You were thankful it was only the debrief left that you would miss, making it easier to approve your own dismissal, not caring how frowned upon it may be seen by your superiors.

It took many hours over several nights to calm Wanda down after the events of Lagos, convincing her she wasn't the bad guy. Even when you tried to explain to her, if it wasn't for her the blast would have been even more deadly and that Steve shouldn't have gotten distracted, she still blamed herself and the lack of control she had over her powers.

"Where is she?" You demand impatiently. After not getting an answer from Sam, you didn't care if he didn't know, you were beyond pissed at him too, you asked Clint, ignoring the new guy, who's name you learned was Scott.

When Clint tells you about his suspicions that Wanda was two floors below your current location you waste no time in getting down there.

You know why she was separated and put on a different floor from the others but it is still infuriating to you. The moment you find out whose decision it was to keep her isolated you would break some skulls. Right now you need to find her and you need to get her safe.

Speeding past empty cell after empty cell, you almost miss her.

Seeing her back facing the glass window separating you makes your heart break, more so when you can see she has been restrained. That, along with the collar around her neck does nothing to calm the adrenaline rushing through your veins.

Using the badge you acquired from a guard you knocked out when you first entered the prison, you easily gain access to the unit.

Wanda doesn't move an inch, making you afraid of what kind of state she is in. Slowly, you approach her, "Wanda?" Even when rounding her body, she still doesn't move. Her eyes are staring at a single spot on the ground.

Your eyebrows furrow in anguish seeing Wanda look so broken. Her sunken eyes and the red marks around her neck from the metal collar has you thinking of a million ways to torture the person who put her here.

Moving in front of her, you crouch down to meet her eye level, but she is frozen in place and your worry for her deepens.

You speak quietly, calmly, "Wanda, I'm going to unbuckle you. Starting with your arms, okay?" You are met with more silence.

Keeping your movements slow you continue to undo the restraints from her body. Seeing her like this makes you want to cry for the empty looking figure before you.

It was bad enough Wanda lost the innocence of her childhood to war, her adolescence and young adult life to regretful decisions and now, she continues to pay the price for the people around her.

You hear rushed footsteps coming from the direction you came. When you look up to the entrance of the cell you see Natasha and Steve. Stretching out your arm, you put your hand up and shake your head to stop them from coming any closer.

Steve taps the watch on his wrist, indicating you need to quicken your pace. The Raft's backup must be on its way. Despite knowing this the action still makes you want to wring Steve's throat, Wanda is here because he got her involved in his fight, shouting at him when you finally found him wasn't enough in your eyes.

There is no time for that now though, you are on your final task and need to concentrate on removing the metal ring from Wanda's neck.

The duo stay at the door keeping an eye out for any movement, letting you give your full attention to the broken woman in front of you.

Just as you have been doing so far, you dictate to Wanda your next move, trying to find a way to unlatch the collar. As your hands get closer to her face it is as if she finally snaps out of her trance grabbing your wrist out of reflex. Her eyes glaze over as if she is seeing you for the first time since you arrived.

"Y/n?" She asks, confused. Flicking between both your eyes trying to figure out if this is real or not.

"It's me, darling." Her grip loosens on you, allowing you to place a palm to her cheek. She leans into the touch a tear escaping her eye as you kiss her forehead, "I need to get this off so we can get you out of here," you whisper to her, afraid that if you talk too loud it may trigger her to panic.

"It hurts," Wanda whimpers, frowning. You feel the burn of tears that want to fill your eyes as well as a twinge in your chest indicating your heart breaking all over again for her.

"I know baby, I know. But we need to be quick, okay?"

She nods her head sluggishly and allows you to lower your hands to the device. The marks peeking out from behind the collar make you screw your face as if you can feel the soreness on your own skin.

You hear Natasha call your name, the urgency is evident in her voice so you quicken your pace while remaining careful.

As you make contact Wanda flinches and her breath hitches. You pause your movements, "It's okay, it's been disabled already. I just need to remove it," you say calmly. Wanda nods and keeps her eyes on you, trying to distract her thoughts about the possibility of getting shocked. She looks at your face full of concentration, two lines between your eyebrows where if it was any other situation she would rub them away.

When you get the collar off you see Wanda's shoulders lower as she releases a breath, "We really need to get out of here, love. Can you stand?" You ask, helping her from the ground.

She stands on shaky legs while you get her to lean her weight on you. Once she is up, you realise Wanda will not be able to make the run to the jet. In one swift movement you pick her up and begin your trek out of there.

With Steve leading the way and Natasha trailing you, the four of you rush towards the quinjet. There are sounds of guards trying to gain entry coming from behind you but you keep your eyes forward. You have every faith in Natasha's abilities to watch your back, the only thing on your mind is getting Wanda to safety.

You hear Natasha fire some shots from her gun when the sounds of a few soldiers make it through but you are already stepping onto the quinjet to even think about turning around to look.

All your attention is on Wanda, sitting her down you kneel in front of her while everyone around you is doing their best in defending and getting the jet ready for flight.

The front of your uniform is damp with her tears from when you carried her and even as the jet flies off Wanda's tears don't stop. Your arms are wrapped securely around her telling her she is okay now and that you will never leave her side ever again.

…

It is weeks later. Her dark circles have faded, her neck is almost back to its original color but the scars to her mental health will take longer to heal.

Wanda wasn't able to sleep the first few nights. Afraid a guard would wake her up with a shock from their electric baton or maybe banging on the glass not allowing her to sleep. For them it was some fun while working. You are glad you showed no mercy when you took down every one of those guards.

Ever since you arrived at the safe house you were currently in, somewhere in the countryside of Spain, you have been doting on Wanda hand and foot, making sure she was getting better.

As soon as you got the chance you yelled at Steve for including Wanda in his little disagreement with Tony and for not getting her out of that prison cell sooner.

When Natasha tried to stop you from lashing out, you lost it even more, 'No! He needs to hear this!' You shouted in Natasha's direction.

You laid into Steve about the fact that Bucky was safe now but at the cost of his teammates, the people who you considered were a family, but with the way this had all been handled this 'family' was in fact just a ticking time bomb.

It didn't stop there, you told Steve how selfish he acted, putting Clint and Scott under pressure with their families and how they were now dealing with the consequences while he runs off playing a hero. Putting Natasha and Sam on the most wanted list, it didn't matter to you that Nat made the decision on her own because it shouldn't have been something to make in the first place.

'And don't get me started on Tony and his ego!' You finished your rant. If it were possible, steam would have been pouring from your ears.

Since that day they have left the two of you alone. Mostly because you won't let Steve near Wanda. What you did allow was Natasha checking in on you both occasionally.

After about a week there you moved to an isolated house in the fields of Hungary where you have been residing until today.

Steve approaches you in the morning with an envelope, Natasha by his side while you and Wanda are eating cereal. New identities and tickets to get to Norway along with keys to your accommodation are all found in the brown packet.

You nod your head as Steve explains his plan, that is until he continues, "-and when things have settled down or when we need you again, we'll come to get you."

Swallowing the chewed cereal in your mouth harshly, your face is stern, "No." You snarl, teeth pressing together tightly.

Steve is taken aback by your response, a little confused, "What-"

Before he can start again you cut him off, "No, you won't come for us when you need us," you retort. "Wanda and I are done. After a little time in Norway, you won't find us," you conclude, telling them your plan to disappear ambiguously.

Having to watch Wanda suffer through nightmares and flinching at the slightest of noises, you voiced your idea to her. She told you that the thought had crossed her mind but she didn't want to take you away from the job you spent your whole life training for. But for you, Wanda was worth more and meant more than anything else you had ever prepared yourself for in the past.

It was a decision you and Wanda finalised days ago, sick of getting your hands dirty for other people. It was time you thought of yourselves and the life you wanted to build together.

Steve sighs and looks down, you know he would do the same if he could. He looks over the two of you and nods his head, understandingly.

The rest of the day passes by with you all packing your things ready to leave before nightfall. You have butterflies in your stomach when you realise this will be your toughest mission yet; trying to live a normal life. Your nerves are settled whenever you look over at Wanda doing minor tasks, a soft smile gracing her face when she catches your eyes lingering, reminding yourself that everything you have done has led you to her and she is the best thing to have ever happened to you. Despite your rocky start when she warped your mind.

As you hug Steve and Natasha goodbye everything feels very real, saying goodbye to the two people who you consider your closest family after practically growing up with them. There would never be any hard feelings against them, just tough decisions to make.

The nervous feeling is back in your stomach until Wanda takes hold of your hand while you wait for the jet to land. You wave one last time to the people you are leaving behind and take your first steps on the vehicle into your new life.

…

Two years. That is how long you and Wanda have been moving from place to place. From Denmark and Poland to Cyprus and Egypt, you were making your way around.

Now, you have settled in a little town in Edinburgh which, if you were being honest with yourself, you could see yourself raising a family here.

It is cold compared to some of the places you have been in the time you two have been separated from the Avengers but it is cosy and because of the rain you have found yourself inside snoozing the day away.

Your head is resting in Wanda's lap as she reads a book. When you wake up and see Wanda still reading you smile lazily as you stretch. Noticing your movements Wanda puts down the book on the coffee table with her other hand still on your head.

Her fingers thread through your hair and you hum in content, "Morning sleepyhead," Wanda mumbles into your forehead before she deposits a kiss there, making you scoff.

"I feel so lazy, we should have done something today," you say, groggily, your voice heavy with sleep.

"Maybe after dinner we can walk through the town. It's supposed to be a full moon tonight," Wanda strokes your hair back making your eyes droop and close from the calming action.

"Yeah, that will be nice," you reply with a silly smile on your face, "it already sounds beautiful."

What you didn't know was taking that stroll in the evening would have you back into the life you let go two years ago. With an alien searching for powerful stones you didn't know existed and a catastrophic outcome no one could have predicted.

[iam93percentstardust]

one of the things that really bothers me about modern franchises, and in particular over the last 5 years or so, is their refusal to commit. what i mean here when i say this is that it's not uncommon for a major franchise to make a decision, whether about the plot or the characters, that should have had huge, world-changing consequences... and then just never address that again or worse, immediately go back and undo it. and i'm gonna pick on star wars and the mcu here because those are the two big franchises i'm into at the moment (and i think they're kind of the worst at this), but i don't want you to walk away from this thinking that this is solely a disney thing. i've seen this happen with game of thrones and supernatural and plenty of other non-disney franchises. spoilers ahead, you've been warned:

in ant-man & the wasp quantumania, scott and hope make the life-altering decision to stay behind in the quantum realm and defeat kang instead of going through the portal to return to their world. this should have been a huge meta decision for the mcu, and when i first saw it in theaters, my immediate thought was wow, what is this going to mean for the mcu going forward? are we going to get a movie/miniseries about scott and hope helping to rebuild the quantum realm? how are cassie, janet, and hank going to react to the losses of their loved ones (in some cases, for the second time)? is cassie going to become the "first" young avenger because she has to take her father's place among the team lineup (and i only say first because as of this moment, none of the other young avengers introduced to the franchise are official avengers yet)? except nope, because less than 2 minutes later, cassie had fixed the portal that had broken way back at the beginning of the movie and brought scott and hope back.

and it felt like such a cheat. i was so disappointed in that theater, not as someone who was invested in these characters on a personal level (because yay, cassie gets her dad back!), but as someone who has spent years investing themselves in the story of the mcu. what was the point of wasting screentime on scott and hope accepting their new lives in the quantum realm if it was just going to immediately be undone? the entire scene could have been cut to scott and hope making it back bare seconds before the portal closed and it would have had the same emotional impact. there was nothing added by making scott and hope (and us) think that there was no way back only to rip the rug out from under us and go "gotcha! you really thought we were gonna give this movie a sad ending? haha! you're so dumb!"

and this isn't the first time the mcu has done this. one of the biggest complaints about endgame was the decision to set it five years in the future with no consideration for how that would actually change the setting of the mcu. characters were brought back to the exact place they disappeared from with no consideration for how things might have changed in the interim five years (like planes that weren't in the air anymore, buildings no longer standing, even just something as simple as a chair being unoccupied). and then the mcu didn't even really have the courage to address how this would have shaped the world other than a few jokes and making the bad guys in the falcon and the winter soldier people who cared about how the world had screwed them over during the blip.

and things like this happen over and over and over again. the accords are put into place in civil war, but by the time we get to she-hulk, they're gone with no explanation because, as best as i can tell, the writers didn't want to have to deal with the worldbuilding that went into the accords. gamora is killed in infinity war, but heaven forbid quill not have an emotional investment in a film he appears for maybe 10 minutes in so now she's back in endgame. steve got to go live in the past with his ex-girlfriend (which is in itself a refusal to commit after the mcu both gave her a different husband and had the woman herself tell him to move on) but we need to establish that messing with timelines is bad because that's what the entire next phase hinges on so actually his ending was predestined and it's only everyone else who can't change time. whoever took this entire town and also wanda hostage and forced them to live out a sitcom fantasy is bad and needs to be stopped but wait, it's actually wanda and she can't be the bad guy yet, we need her for doctor strange 2, so actually everyone's going to defend her now and say that no one else could ever possibly understand her grief. thor has decided to accept responsibility as king of asgard, but we can't use him for any more movies if he's stuck in asgard, so actually he's decided to pass it on to someone whose entire leadership capability is developed offscreen. i could list more examples but this is making me angry, so let's move on to star wars instead.

with star wars, i look at first the oft-quoted meme, "somehow palpatine has returned." yeah, i shouldn't really need to go into detail on how that counts as a refusal to commit but. the last jedi was a study in how johnson refused to commit to anything that abrams had laid down in the force awakens, but rise of skywalker was almost like abrams had looked at the franchise and said "screw you for taking it away from me, i'm going to come up with the most bullshit stuff just to spite you for doing that in the first place. and i'm going to start by undoing the most important plot point of the first trilogy: the emperor dies." and yeah, disney's kind of tried to salvage this by dropping hints into the bad batch and the mandalorian about cloning, but that only really works if you're watching the franchise chronologically and not considering that both of those series came out after rise of skywalker.

and then there's the mandalorian, my sweet summer child, who is, in my opinion, the worst at backtracking their plot points. i'm not entirely convinced that any of the higher ups for this show really knew what they were doing when they started working on it and i'm not convinced that they know what they're doing now. yeah, there's the tie-in to the last season of clone wars, but the mandalorian has managed to walk back pretty much every single major plot point it's had. din is this legendary warrior who can't be beat, but no one will watch this show if he defeats everyone too early, so he's constantly getting beat up (tbf, sometimes some of the fights he loses makes sense like the krayt dragon and the mudhorn, but a lot of them don't. at all). moff gideon is dead, no wait no he's not, now he's imprisoned, no wait no he's not, now he's definitely dead, you can totally believe us this time guys. grogu can use the force and must be placed with the jedi, but wait, the only person still actively teaching the way of the jedi is luke and all of his students will be brutally murdered ten years from now, and we can't have that, everyone will be mad at us for killing off such a cute character and no one will buy baby yoda dolls (and also we have to set up luke's character degradation from hopeful, believes-in-love cinnamon roll to "i'm going to kill my nephew") so in between seasons let's have grogu decide to go back to din (and don't even get me started on how frustrating it is that a casual mandalorian watcher also had to watch book of boba fett to understand why grogu is back). din has the darksaber now which makes him king of mandalore, that's totally going to be important and what the entire series has been building up to, right? wrong! he might have spent the first two seasons making connections, learning about the world outside his sheltered upbringing, and demonstrating the various qualities that would make for a good leader, but the entire third season will be about din realizing that actually he's super unworthy and the darksaber should actually go to someone who... saw an animal in the water.

and it's really, really frustrating as a viewer! because how am i supposed to get invested in any of these plot decisions when they almost always get reversed? why should i care that mj and ned have forgotten peter when ant-man 3 has shown me that they'll remember him the next time they're all on screen together? why should i care that tech is dead when half of the last season of clone wars was about how echo was actually alive? if none of these decisions have any permanence, then where are the emotional stakes? why should i watch your movie if all you're going to tell me is that nothing matters?

[shugar0cone]

The angels

I was scared, I don’t know why but maybe it’s because of the beyond the point of death. I took a break holding my angelic shot gun pointing at the sky. “Darling they’re not comming yet.” Alastor my husband sat down next to me on top of the hotel. “You don’t know that.” I put my eye to the scope. This riffel represent my custom I had in the living, Alastor special requested it for me to vaggie. Alastor put down the barrel of my gun. “Darling dont freight for we are strong and those angels have no chance.” He smiled down at me. “You don’t know that.” I one again put it to my shoulder waiting. “Darling you know just as well as I do sitting their with your gun pointed at nothing won’t kill the prey, you need to walk breath enjoy it and then you’ll have a better shot.” He was right Alastor took us hunting when we were alive granted it wasn’t civil for your kind, but I wanted to fend for myself. “You’re right.” I put the gun on my back. I looked up at my husband. He still had his smile no fear, nothing was showing but deep down somthing was wrong. “Alastor.” I turned and looked at him. “Hm?” He looked at me in the eyes lovingly. “Im add somthing to my vows and you can’t take it back.” I said. He nodded. “Alastor I don’t know what’s living beyond death but know, I will love you for eternity, it doesn’t matter if I’m alive, dead, double dead or triple. I’ll love you.” I looked up at him his eyes softens. “And if I were to end up double or triple I’ll love you until all existence ends, I’d still love you.” We put our foreheads together. And held each others hands.

“DIE YOU FUCKERS!” I grabbed my pocket dagger and stabbed an exorcist. They were to cocky to un afraid of us, their move where jagged and predictable, one thing about a good murder is that they where unpredictable and organized. I pulled the blade out othe ex’s eye. “HEY ANGEL HOW MANY YOU GOT!” I yelled. Angel and I made it a comption to make us feel better. “36 what about you.” He said gunning down the angels. “Ha I got 46 I’m ahead~” I ran off to kill more until I see Adam and Alastor. Oh no.

“Aww looks like I missed the party.” I say standing with my hands on my hips. “Ah nice to-“ adam attacked Al but he dogged. “See you my love say how’s the weather down there.” He offers you his hand still diving Adams attacks. “Well, but must be some much more entertaining up here.” They got into each others arms and started to do a dance. (Cringy I know but I wanted a dance thing.) Alastors and I swayed through the attacks seamlessly. “FUCK STOP DANCING.” Adam yelled and tried to attack which Alastor dipped me down and I pointed my riffel and missed. “Missed me!” Adam says he grabbed the color or your shirt that was colored in gold and shoved you. “Y/N!” Alastor says. “Oh how you Fucked up now!” His voice became demonic i was in a trance and could not tell what was going on until I heard Alastor without his radio voice. “Shit..” with All my might i sag beside my bloody up husband. You two joked as Adam went on with his speech. “Looks like— looks like we switched places.” I said, I wanted to lighten the mood just like he did when I died in his arms. “We are not done yet my love.” Shadows engulf us as we disappeared.

“Ah, Alastor that fucking hurts.” I say. I were scratched up I mean it ain’t a war without blood right. “Darling stop being a wuss I’m pretty sure those spears hurt worse.” He said drenching his cloth again, Alastor could heal quicker then I can (lucky bastard) “ no what hurt the worst was seeing you almost die” I said. “Just by a hair though.” He said. “No more like the skin of your smile.” I said grabbing my husbands cheek and caressing it. “I love you.” I said in a soft voice. “I love you too.” You two shared a kiss until you bit down on alastors lips. “ALASTOR THAT FUCKING HURT!” I said he put to much pressure on that wound.

AN: YAY AND OMG ONE OF MY FAVE RELESES LIKE CARMILAS SONGS ALWAYS HIT! AHHHH, anyways I hoped y’all like and sorry for the dance bit I know it’s cringy but I wanted a dance thing.

[daechwitatamic]

Of Ruin: Chapter 7

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Of Ruin (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni Genre: vampire!au magic!au royalty!au, s2l, slow burn, eventual smut, angst and fluff

Summary: Taehyung of House Rune, Prince of Infracticus has been cursed. You’re the human world’s leading curse-breaker. It should be simple. But unraveling the curse becomes the least of your problems in the face of a world on the brink of civil war… and the love you start to feel for the prince.

A/N: Thank you endlessly to @/sailoryooons for betaing!!! 💕

//

Section Warnings: vampire attack, depictions of a panic attack, language, angst wc: 5k

Morning brings no word from the royal family. You stay shut in your bedroom, finally thumbing through the magical theory book you’d smuggled in there, practicing little spells. You turn your lights on and off, light and extinguish candles, send your hairbrush floating to the window and back. It comes easily, naturally, as long as you have the book in front of you; you’re shit at memorization, and remembering the incantations will be the toughest part. 

Midmorning, you find yourself so frustrated that you repeat slamming your bathroom door over and over again until Namjoon shouts at you to knock it off. 

When Satuel brings your lunch, you beg to go to the turret library. You don’t even need a book, you just need to walk. 

“You coming?” you ask Namjoon.

“I guess so,” he sighs.

Time crawls even from the turret. You’re bored, restless, anxious knowing you’re wasting time. You need the prince to agree to the ritual; it’s the only way to move forward.

“Can we head back?” Namjoon asks after a few hours, startling you from your reverie as you stare out the turret windows over the landscape below. 

“Do we have to?” you ask absently. This is better than your rooms, in your opinion. At least here there’s a window. 

“I have to pee,” he says flatly. 

You sigh. “Go with Satuel,” you whine. “I’m fine here, you’ll only be gone a minute. Ask her. I don’t want to leave.”

You know you’re being petulant and you can’t seem to stop. He frowns at you, not liking the idea. 

“It’s fine,” you insist. 

Namjoon makes his way to the stairs, and you wait to see if he’ll come back to tell you that Satuel refused to take only him. It’s the reaction you expect. Instead, the minutes tick by, and no Namjoon.

Then, you hear movement on the stairs and you sigh. “Alright,” you say, rising, “I knew it was a long-shot. I’m coming.”

You turn, and find the doorway filled with the Infracti man who’d cornered you on your first night.

In the light of day, with the light from the window streaming through, he seems even more frightening; you can see the hatred etched clearly on his face. Your throat tightens and your pulse quickens. You stare at him, frozen, as if he might not see you if you don’t move.

“You made a lot of trouble for me, morsel,” he says, low, stepping closer. 

Fury races through you, so quickly it’s like being engulfed in flames. Last time, you’d been a scared little human. It’s been less than a week, but you have more to your name this time. You won’t forget what you are.

Maybe your mortal body can’t match his inhuman one, but you’ve got more than your fists to fight with.

“Call me morsel one more time,” you growl, starting to call up magic even as you speak, “and you’ll never eat again.”

He laughs at this, throwing his head back, and you take the opportunity to strike. The spell you’d used to slam your bathroom door pops into your head and you shout it, throwing your hands towards him as forcefully as you can.

He flies backwards, hitting the stone wall with a sickening crunch. You move quickly, putting the library’s heavy wooden table between you and widening your stance, ready to go again. 

He rises slowly, not laughing now. His eyes swirl with fury and he openly bares his fangs, his stance hunched and animalistic. He moves lightning quick - almost too quick for your mostly-human eyes - and you panic, shouting the same spell and throwing your hands towards the floor around you. 

You don’t know what you were hoping for - a shield, maybe, or for a hole to open up and drop him down to the turret’s bottom. You’re too new to this, too sloppy, too desperate. Instead of any of those things, the stone floor around you crumbles and jumps, large chunks flying up into the air before dropping all around you, like an earthquake surrounding you in a perfect circle.

It wasn’t what you intended, but it works. As he zips towards you, nearly invisible, he’s caught by the chunks of stone, knocking him off his feet. You take advantage of the opportunity and toss him again, more cleanly this time, throwing him forcefully into the wall a second time, much of the rubble going with him.

His furious gaze finds yours as you stand over him, heart pounding. “Little witch,” he hisses. “You’ll regret that.”

You don’t wait to find out - you run down the spiral stairs so fast that you can’t believe you don’t miss one. You’re almost at the bottom when you can hear him behind you, in close pursuit. 

You face him again in the hallway below, wishing desperately you had something besides slam the door in your magical arsenal. Your chest heaves as you pant against both exertion and terror. 

He stalks closer, normal speed, and you try the spell again, but it does nothing - you’ve missed, or you’ve misspoken the incantation, or you’re just out of juice. 

“I’ll never eat again?” he mocks your earlier words as he crowds you towards the wall behind you. “I might eat right now. Maybe I’ll take you with me and make you my new favorite meal. Maybe I’ll bleed you dry. Maybe I’ll make you a snack that lasts.”

He’s close enough that you can see your panicked reflection in the whorl of his black eyes, can see the wetness clinging to his bared fangs, can see the unnatural sharpness of his fingernails that more resemble claws. 

There’s a shout, and you both turn. Dansoo comes out of nowhere, and behind him you can see Satuel take off in the opposite direction at a sprint. In the time it took you to glance in Satuel’s direction, Dansoo has put himself between you and the monster. 

Dansoo is one of the monsters too. You can’t seem to forget that, even as he pushes the Infracti back. 

“You dishonor your house,” Dansoo growls. “You dishonor the Guard. That is a guest of the royal family, and you’ve threatened her life twice this week.”

“Move, Dansoo,” the beast bites back, batting his hands away, his eyes on his prey, focused. He’s engaged in a hunt, and there will be no snapping him out of it. Dansoo grunts as he pushes back against the monster’s assault. 

You press yourself against the wall, the fury and power you’d felt upstairs leaking away from you as you watch the monsters grapple with each other. You feel cold and detached, even as you consider that if Dansoo makes one misstep you might both die. 

Reinforcements arrive quicker than you expect, led by Satuel, and three of them take the offender by the arms and pull him away from Dansoo, who’s managed to hold him in place, at least. You don’t relax, you feel no relief. You’re still surrounded by them, outnumbered by them. 

You don’t know where Namjoon is. You don’t know if he’s okay. 

Then, Prince Taehyung stalks up the corridor, radiating fury, brows scrunched and fists tight. His mouth pushes together making a line so thin it’s barely there.

Relief courses through you, the tension melting from your body. It is the first moment that you think you might survive.

“Take him to my father,” he orders, as soon as he’s close enough. “I’ll be there soon.”

He pauses by Dansoo, who nods at him, breathing heavily, indicating that he’s alright. 

The prince reaches you, stops before you, scanning you with wide eyes. His hands skim along your arms as if checking for wounds. “We were in time?” he asks. “You’re not harmed?”

“No,” you say hollowly, your voice echoing in the corridor. You still feel out of your body, out of your mind, like someone else is speaking, the words coming from within you without any of your mental facilities checking in. You’re not even answering the question he asked as you babble, “No, I can’t do this, I can’t stay here -” 

His eyes widen further, and you realize you’re sobbing as you answer. You can’t care, you don’t have enough left in you to care. Your knees give and he moves with you, hands on your elbows, as you sink to a crouch, still crying.

“I dreamed of this place,” you cry, pressing the heels of your hands to your eyes, as if you can staunch the flow. “I studied it and learned about it and dreamed of it, how magical and amazing it would be. And now I’m here and everyone wants to hurt me - you, the Queen, even the other human -”

You know you aren’t making sense; Namjoon hasn’t hurt you, though his doubt in you has hurt at times. You can’t stop yourself, and Prince Taehyung just listens as you cry, pretty mouth turned into a frown. “I want to go home. I want to leave Infracticus. It’s not worth it, none of this is worth it! Fuck the curse, I don’t care if you sleep! I don’t care if you kill! It’s not worth it!”

You’re screaming this last part, one hand pushing uselessly at him, uncaring about the prince’s secret or your own safety; you have no control over your mouth, no control over your tears, no control over the way your entire body shakes hard enough that it hurts when your knees knock together. 

When it’s clear you’re done screaming, words giving way to broken sobs alone, Prince Taehyung rubs his thumbs along your shoulders, where his hands came to rest after helping you down.

He says your name quietly, but you can’t stop crying. 

“Where’s Namjoon?” you manage through shuddering gasps.

“He’s back at your rooms,” the prince says quietly. “Satuel got him to safety.”

This calms you just enough that you manage one deep breath. You hold it, lungs spasming, then let it out slowly, tears still leaking down your cheeks, unfettered.

Prince Taehyung says your name again, then asks gently, “Can I take you somewhere? Away from here? Do you trust me?”

You try another breath, trying desperately to get ahold of yourself, but it rips out of you in a fracturing exhale as you fail to hold it. 

“Yes,” you gasp, wiping at your eyes, each breath shuddering and messy. Somehow, despite all of this, you do. 

More than Satuel. More than Namjoon. 

If anyone here wants you alive, you know it’s the prince. 

–

He doesn’t speak to you as he leads you through the palace, nor when you get outside. It’s still light out, and you recognize the way to the stable. You’ve never come here while it’s light, and you’re able to make it down the steps without his help. 

The sky has been beautiful at night when you’ve come here, but the sight of the rolling ocean calms your spirit. You breathe in time with the sound of waves as you follow the prince to the stables, and by the time you arrive, you’ve stopped shaking. 

“Saddle her,” Prince Taehyung tells the guards, and you look at him sharply. 

The look he gives you is understanding, affectionate.

“Still trust me?” he asks. 

You nod, mute. Your body has stopped trembling, but you feel weak and shaken, like just existing now requires more energy than you have left.

The guards lead Potato out, fitted with a strange saddle and bridle. Prince Taehyung takes the lead and the guard steps away. 

“You’ll sit in front,” he tells you softly. “The idea is to put your foot in the stirrup -” he points, “and swing your other leg over. Can you do that?”

“Probably,” you answer, eyeing Potato warily. She tosses her mane, paws at the sand. You turn to the prince. “Are we going… underwater?”

He smiles, shakes his head. “Only your legs will get wet. Do you want to leave your shoes here?”

Several minutes later, you do as the prince suggested, stepping into the stirrup and throwing your other leg over Potato’s back, settling into the saddle. Potato shifts beneath you and you cling to her mane, sure you’ll fall. 

But Prince Taehyung is right behind you, wrapping an arm around your stomach and pulling you tight against his front. It’s comforting, somehow, and you fight the urge to relax back against him; you aren’t sure how he’d react if you did - probably, it would be weird.

He leans forward to speak close to your ear. “It’s going to feel strange,” he advises. “You aren’t used to an amarisca’s gait. Trust me - trust that if I’m not frightened, you don’t need to be. You hold her mane, and I’ll hold you. Squeeze your legs on the saddle and try not to fight the motion.”

“That’s a lot of directions to follow,” you say. The attack at the palace looms in your mind, trying to poke into your conscious thought even as you try to allow yourself to be distracted, and the adrenaline in your system hasn’t died all the way down. It thrums through your body, making you feel half-delirious. You aren’t entirely sure this isn’t a dream. You still feel a little floaty and out-of-body from what happened inside.

The first few steps into the ocean are fine - no different from riding a horse, which you’ve done once or twice in your life. But once the amarisca can swim, the motion changes entirely. You gasp, and Prince Taehyung pulls you back tightly again, his chest solid and unmoving behind you.

The galloping motion is more like a dive, like the animal is diving into each wave as her powerful front legs tread through the water, her fish’s tail undulating behind you. Prince Taehyung’s arm holds you against him, his grip unwavering, as he steers with his free hand. 

“Don’t fight it,” he repeats, close to your ear. You shudder, and you know he can feel it, as tightly as you’re pressed together. You hope he’ll chalk it up to the cold of the sea, not his lips near your neck, his hand splayed on your stomach. “When she dives, lean into it a little.”

You try to follow his directions, following Potato’s rocking motion through the water, trying to ignore how cold your legs are, how loud the wind is, how Prince Taehyung’s hand is gripping your middle tightly to hold you against him, how much you like it.

A particularly big wave rocks over your thighs, and you scream once, startled more than anything.

He chuckles behind you. “We’re fine,” he assures you, loud enough to be heard over the roar of the sea and the wind. The water is up to your thighs and it’s freezing. The prince’s Infracti body offers you no warmth. But at least it doesn’t let you fall off.

You’re not sure how long you ride; long enough that your legs go numb to the ocean’s temperature, long enough that you start to get concerned about it. 

That’s when the prince points ahead, and you squint. Sure enough, you can see a pocket of trees ahead, seeming to rise out of the water. But as Potato brings you closer, you can see that there’s a tiny island here. 

It’s a bit rocky - no pun intended - when Potato switches from swimming to walking on the pebbled shore, but you hang on tight, and Prince Taehyung doesn’t let you fall. He halts Potato once she’s solidly on dry land, and hops down behind you.

You want to sink into the dirt when the prince helps you down, relieved to be back on something solid, but you stand, swaying a bit. You still feel like you’re in a dream. Above you, the sky is cloudy, but no rain falls. It’s grey in every direction - even the dark ocean water seems to melt into grey at the horizon, as if there’s no real line between sea and sky. You can’t see the palace from here; you could be back in the human world - there’s nothing here indicating that you aren’t.

This calms you more than you’d like to admit.  

“I have to tie her up,” he tells you. “Stay here.”

As if you could go anywhere. You look around instead; the trees you saw from further out are some kind of conifer, grouped together just off-center of the island. The shore is rocky - it’s mostly packed dirt where Potato landed, but most of the rest of the island’s edges are jagged rock.

You feel better, so far from the palace that it’s not even visible over the horizon. With nothing around you but ocean, you feel truly safe for the first time since you arrived. No one can get to you here. No one knows you’re even here except Prince Taehyung, and he won’t hurt you unless you’re here after midnight. Your heartbeat begins to settle down, your breathing evens. 

When he returns, Prince Taehyung plops unceremoniously into the dirt.

“Join me,” he jokes.

“I’ll get my pants dirty,” you object. After everything that’s happened in the last two hours, you can’t believe you care. 

“Who are you trying to impress?” he asks easily, like it’s a big joke.

You arch an eyebrow at him. 

“Me?” He laughs. In spite of everything that just happened, the sound is lovely, deep and musical and welcome. “My pants are muddy already.”

This is true. So you do as he asks, delicately sitting next to him, curling up and hugging your knees.

You like this version of him, outside the palace walls - quick to smile, oddly funny. Of course, a tiny part of you likes the quiet, reserved version of him you get when he’s inside, too.

You sit in silence for a few minutes, watching the waves crash on the island’s beach. 

Finally getting serious, he speaks. “I’ve been alive a long time,” he says, slowly and seriously. “I’ve been very angry before, too. I’ve been very scared before. I have felt, like you, desperately alone.”

He waits for a second, eyes still on the ocean. From where she’s tied to a tree trunk, you can hear Potato snort.

“I always felt better here,” he tells you. “It feels kind of like leaving, doesn’t it?”

You nod. “It does,” you say. “The problem is, eventually I have to go back.”

“I’m sorry we’ve failed you so badly,” he says mournfully. “I promised you that you’re safe here, and you’ve experienced the opposite. That never should have happened - the first time, or this time.”

“Yes, great protector, won’t let anything happen to his venefici,” you mutter.

He visibly flinches when you say the word.

“And I’m sorry,” he says slowly, “for saying that to you. I… was not dealing well with the lack of sleep, or my own feelings regarding… well, that’s besides the point. Sleeping well was very helpful. I feel much better now, and I have you to thank.”

“Don’t thank me until I break the curse,” you say, kicking at the dirt. 

“If you’ll stay,” he ventures, “if you’ll keep trying… I promise to keep you safe. I know we said that from the beginning, but I’ll do better.”

“It’s not a promise you can keep,” you mutter. 

He looks at you, sideways. “I can,” he says. “I underestimated how much work it would be, but I can.”

You don’t believe him, so you change the subject. “You shouldn’t even be out here with me,” you grouse. “You should be sleeping, while you have the chance. You need to rest.”

“I can’t,” he asserts, whining a little. “I struggle to fall asleep, and then when I do - I wake up quickly. I dream about - that night.”

You think about this, think about what he’s really telling you. “That’s a problem that won’t be solved by the countercurse,” you point out. 

“I know,” Prince Taehyung admits, meeting your gaze. “But one thing at a time, right?” He leans back, eyes the heavy clouds above you, then adds, “I think I’d like to give their families something - for the humans I… attacked. You can’t put a price on a life, of course, but… wouldn’t it be right? To give them something for their loss?”

He looks at you openly, as if he desperately needs someone to answer this for him.

“Why don’t you?” you ask. It seems like a fair question.

The prince shakes his head. “Our people have already covered our tracks - erased memories, expunged documents. Made it like they didn’t exist. To ensure that my image goes untainted. To make sure they can’t try me, put my case before a judge. I can’t apologize for killing someone who never existed.”

Your stomach churns. “That’s illegal,” you say darkly. 

Prince Taehyung inclines his head. “I don’t condone it,” he promises. “It was done without my consent. I should be tried. I should stand trial. I know that.”

“But you can’t,” you say slowly, understanding dawning over you. “Not without exposing your parents for the cover-up.”

“And what about the one who lived?” he asks, looking up at you plaintively. “They told me she won’t remember it happening… but isn’t that worse? To have all the fear the trauma brought, but to not know why?”

You look at him, seeing something new in him - again. “I don’t know,” you admit. “I don’t know what’s worse. I’m not sure either option is worse.”

He shakes his head, rubbing a hand along his forehead. “It is too much to carry,” he whispers, and you’re not sure he’s even talking to you.

“No one is going to forgive you,” you say, and his head snaps up, eyes wide. You continue, choosing your words carefully. “They can’t, their families can’t. You can’t undo what happened. All you can do is take steps to make sure it doesn’t happen again. Help me end the curse, and work on forgiving yourself.”

He takes this in silently, and you wait him out. 

“And you?” he says finally, looking up at you through his dark curls that hang over his eyes. “Will you be working on forgiving yourself?”

You bristle. “For what?”

He cocks his head, like he’s surprised that you don’t know. “For not being human,” he says softly, as if it’s obvious. 

You look away. 

“We should both rest,” he says finally. “I want you to know… the man who came after you today will be dealt with - he won’t be in the palace. He’ll be gone already by the time we get back. And I’m adding extra bodies to your personal guard - it won’t just be Satuel and Dansoo anymore.”

You look at him, afraid to voice what’s in your head - that he’s promising to protect you from monsters by giving you more monsters. 

But Dansoo had fought to protect you, today. And Satuel had run for the prince, for more guards, had gotten Namjoon to safety. 

“Okay,” you whisper, because it’s better than admitting that you don’t feel any safer. That you’re sure you’ll be plagued with nightmares tonight. That you still want nothing more than to solve the curse, and go back to your old life - as quickly as possible. 

Even if, in your old life, you didn’t get to ride amarisca into the sea.

“Do you feel better?” he asks you, and there’s something earnest in it. Hopeful, maybe. Like he really hopes he helped.

Better, you think. “Better than I was,” you allow. Not better better. You won’t feel better until you’re home again. Maybe not even then. You might always see swirling black eyes, whenever the lights get dim.

“Let’s do the ritual in the morning,” the prince suggests, looking over at you openly. 

“Okay,” you agree. Because you want to go home. “Let’s do that.”

–

Prince Taehyung brings you back to your rooms. You’re painfully aware of the dirt on your ass, the way the legs of your trousers cling to your calves, still damp from ocean water, as you make your way through the palace. But you pass no one but the royal family’s guards, and they remain impassive.

You’re sure they’re curious. Maybe it’s normal for the prince to traipse about the palace covered in mud and sea salt, but not with a human in tow. 

If they even see you as human. The Infracti who’d attacked you had called you little witch. Perhaps they all know what you really are. 

He stops in front of your doors, looks at his feet for a second. Dansoo and Satuel are in place, and you notice with a guilty sinking in your stomach that Dansoo sports a scrape across one cheekbone, the wound clearly fresh. 

“So…” the prince says, looking up at you through his lashes. “Do you think you’ll stay?”

The question surprises you so much that your brain goes a bit empty. You blink at him, taking ages to catch up. 

“Do I… do I really have a choice?” you ask finally, voice hushed. Dansoo and Satuel stare straight ahead, pretending not to listen.

The prince flinches, like he’s hurt by this question. “Of course you do,” he says firmly. “That’s why I took you - I was - this was my attempt at convincing you to stay. But the choice is yours.”

You want to leave. But not as badly as you want to end the prince’s curse. 

“I’m going to see this through,” you say, determination winning the shoving contest with your fear. “Even if I die trying, apparently.”

The look he gives you is rueful. “I think you’re braver than me,” he says quietly. And then, all business, “I’ll send for you in the morning. For the ritual. We’ll conduct it in my rooms.”

“Okay.” You turn to enter your rooms, but you pause and bow to your guards. “Thank you for… earlier.” You rise, eyeing the scrape on Dansoo’s face. “I’m sorry you were hurt.”

“Our orders are to keep you from harm,” Dansoo says stiffly. Satuel says nothing, just gives you a tight nod. 

You try not to let this response sting. You let yourself inside. 

Namjoon jumps to his feet and you both blurt, “Are you okay?”

“Where did you go?” you ask, rushing forward. You have the urge to hug him, you’re so relieved to find him unharmed, but you’ve only known him a week and you’re not sure it would be appropriate. Instead, you hover just outside his personal bubble, hands raised like you’re going to scan him for wounds.

“Where did I go?” he echoes. “Where did you go? One second, there were literally vampires fighting over you in the corridor, and then everyone was gone. All Satuel would tell me was that you were with the prince!”

You sink onto the couch. You’re half tempted to send for a stiff drink; you’ve never wanted one so badly in your life. 

“That Infracti…” you explain, “He found me the first night. When I… went out, when I shouldn’t have.” 

Namjoon’s eyes narrow, and you wonder if you imagine the flicker of protectiveness you think you see. 

“The Prince found us, luckily, and also luckily didn’t send me packing,” you admit. “But I guess that guy felt like he had a score to settle or something. I shouldn’t have sent Satuel away. I should have gone with you.”

Namjoon sits too, begins to fill in his side of the story. “We were in the corridor when he went up,” he explains. “She got another guard and, like, threw us into a nearby room and then went running to get help. By the time I got back to the hallway, you were gone. But she took me back up to get my papers I’d left on the table and the floor is all fucked up.”

He looks at you quizzically. “Did you do that?”

You fiddle with your fingers, embarrassed. “I was just trying to keep him away from me.”

Namjoon lets out a disbelieving breath. “I can’t believe you fought off a hunting Infracti without any magical training,” he says. 

“I didn’t do a very good job,” you mutter quietly. “Hence the hole in the floor. That’s not what I was trying to do.”

“You got away,” he points out.

“Only because of Dansoo and Satuel,” you argue. “If they hadn’t been in the corridor, I was done.”

It feels strange to say it so casually, when it’s so true, and so nearly came to pass.

“Anyway,” you say, clearing your throat. “I kind of freaked out. Prince Taehyung took me somewhere quiet, away from the palace, so I could calm down.”

He looks you over, clearly seeing the mud on your damp pants.

You give him a sheepish look. “It may have involved riding an amarisca. In the ocean.”

He laughs a little. “I guess that’s one way to distract you,” he says. “He knew what he was doing.”

“He agreed to try the ritual,” you say, suddenly remembering. “He said he’ll send someone for me in the morning. Will you join us?”

Namjoon looks surprised - over the Prince agreeing or your invitation, you’re not sure. “I thought you didn’t want my energy getting mixed in?”

“Sorry,” you mumble, chagrined. “No, it’ll be fine if you’re there - you just have to stand far enough away once we start.”

“O-kay,” he says slowly. “Then, yes, I’d like to be there. Wake me when they come to get you? I’ll leave my door unlocked.”

“Sure,” you agree. 

You both stand there awkwardly. It occurs to you that you may both be considering the ways you’ve been unfair to each other. 

“I’m glad you weren’t hurt today,” you say quietly, unable to look at him. “And if I haven’t made it clear… I’m glad to have you here. I’m glad to have someone…”

“Human?” he laughs.

You smile. “I was going to say on my side, but yeah. That, too.”

He softens. “I’m glad you’re okay, too,” he says. “And if I haven’t made it clear… I trust your decisions. My grandfather set you as the case lead for a reason. Even if I don’t always act like it.”

“Thanks,” you say awkwardly, after a minute of shifting from foot to foot. “Okay… I’m going to go to bed. I’ll wake you in the morning.”

You can’t sleep. Swirling black eyes rise in your vision every time your eyes close. After nearly an hour of trying, you give up. You turn on your lamp and pull out the spellbook. You search the index for something that looks defensive, and you practice it again, and again, and again.

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we're back!!! thanks for reading!!!

chapter 8 will go up next friday as scheduled!

[argisthebulwark]

All Emotion Dripped Away

summary: skyrim men and their red flags <3 gn reader, no gendered terms or y/n used. feat: Brynjolf, Miraak, Vilkas, Farkas, Cicero, Mercer warnings: some unhealthy relationship dynamics.

Brynjolf's inability to commit is maddening. The worst part is that you understand exactly what led to him acting this way - losing Karliah and Gallus at such a young age, Mercer effectively ruining every positive moment they've shared, thinking that he's lost you. You can understand his aversion to committing himself to another person but the knowledge doesn't make it any easier to handle. "Must we put a label on it?" He groans, dragging your chair closer to his. He leans closer, lips only a few inches away - he knows exactly what he's doing. It's his most common maneuver - kiss you until you can hardly think, distracting you from anything deeper. "It's difficult to think with you so close." You breathe, attempting to resist his charm. "Aye, as you've said." "Don't you want more?" You ask, allowing his fingers to creep under your armor. "Why ruin a good thing?" His kiss is full of heat, a promise for more to come if you're willing to forget this conversation.

At first, Miraak's protectiveness was sweet. He accompanied you on missions far from home and fought at your side. Losing Mora's power had only caused him to become more focused on retaining the skills he had. Over time, it grew. You noticed him tagging along on shorter trips, soon finding that even a quick visit to a nearby village for supplies was a two person job. You'd faced dragons and giants, climbed High Hrothgar and aided in the resolution of a Civil War - yet it seemed you couldn't be trusted to walk a few miles from home. "I don't want to risk you, my love." He insists, falling into step at your side. "What if you were harmed? What if you're hurt and no one is there to aid you?" You don't like this almost childish way he seems to view you - once he'd doted on you, though now it almost seems as if he doesn't trust you to walk without some grievous injury befalling you. He's coddling you.

As an outsider, Vilkas had always appeared confident, headstrong, willing to tackle any problem. He's strong and intelligent and well spoken, of course he can handle things. As a partner, you've been surprised by his avoidance. When you were a recruit he had no trouble voicing your many faults, even as his Harbinger he's been critical - but not his partner. Those problems remain firmly within his own mind. You know he bottles them up, stewing on these emotions until he talks himself out of being upset, rationalizing everything. "If you don't tell me what it is you need, I cannot give it to you." You've pleaded with him, desperate to make this work. "I love you more than I can say - please, all I need is for you to talk to me." "There is nothing to talk about."

Farkas' recklessness had saved your ass on many occasions, but as his spouse it left you a nervous wreck. He'd often laugh off your worries before leaving for days, unable to communicate due to clearing out some bandit camp. His lack of self preservation reduced you to a mess of nerves, trying to work through it but unable to stop your eyes from wandering each time a door opened. "It's not a big deal." Farkas pouts, kneeling before you. His armor's all strapped into place and a pack of supplies hangs over one shoulder - he's about to leave again. Your heart kicks into overdrive, fingers shaking when they clasp the sides of his face. "I always come back safe, dear." He reminds you, that easy grin on his face. "Do you not trust me out there without you?" "I'd feel quite a bit better if I were at your side." You admit, staring pointedly at the sword slung across his back. "We do work well together." He agrees, a kiss planted on your cheek before he stands. "But you're the Harbinger, you have more important duties." Of course you did - your duties included paperwork and worrying, both of which were beginning to wear on your nerves.

You can't fault poor Cicero for his inexperience - he spent far too many years alone, no one but the Night Mother to keep him company. Isolation had changed him, left him lacking the knowledge many others took for granted. Of course you love him, you'd fallen head over heels for the fool and never looked back, but your relationship didn't come without it's own trials. He'd never learned the common things to do in a relationship; little things many couples did like dates were nonexistent and he had no clue how a normal relationship was paced. Falling for each other was easy, why hold back? Why not go all the way? It didn't help that his relationship with the other assassins was strained at best - some were friendly, others shut him out entirely. You were the only one he could turn to, the only one willing to share a meal and a laugh with your beloved Keeper. "Listener, will you teach poor Cicero how to love you?" He coos, gently combing the hair away from your face. Your first instinct is to refuse, to tell him that it's too much - but the peaceful smile melts your heart. "I want to love you the right way."

Often, you find yourself what Mercer likes more - being with you or keeping secrets from you. He omits things that don't even matter which only heightens your anxiety on the topic; if he's willing to lie about something as trivial as who went on what job or which client he's meeting with, what else could he be hiding from you? You tell yourself that it's nothing, just a survival trait he's picked up over the decades of leading the Thieves Guild, but it's impossible to ignore. He doesn't seem to enjoy the jealousy it incites within you but you can't quite puzzle out what he gets from it. In the end, it's easier to accept that he merely enjoys keeping secrets. Only the gods knew how long it had been since he'd last opened up to anyone and you were afraid that prying would make him snap shut the little window you've carved out in his heart.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Let's Talk About That

Make you swallow all that pride (6)

Psychiatrist!Avenger!fem!Reader x Wanda Maximoff

Warning: Not much. We're at the point of the Civil War fight happening. Lots of hurt and angst.

A/N: Good luck everyone I wanted to cry writing this. 🫠😢

May 24th 2016

The clash of the Avengers. Though you had been by Natasha's side the past few days. Clint came looking for you. Telling you to head to Germany. Steve would be waiting. You left a small note for Tasha, kissing her temple. She was in a deep sleep only because she felt safe with you. Normally any movement would have roused her. 

You make it to Germany, hugging Steve. You picked him up and when you set him down he did the same back. "I didn't want to leave her...I know she's going to be pissed." You confess to him. He lets out a sigh, putting a hand on your shoulder.

"She was holding you there. Tony was doing the same thing to Wanda. He was keeping her trapped in the compound with Vision watching over her. Clint's on his way right now with her and a new friend, Scott, he goes by Ant-man." He tells you. Of course that's all it was. Tasha didn't need you. She never needed a bodyguard…she's a black widow assassin for God sakes. How could you be so blind.

"I can't wait to see her." You must be smiling like an idiot because Steve laughs. 

"Alright lets go over our plans while we have some time." He tells you, Sam, and Bucky.

When Clint arrives you hug Wanda tightly and she does hug you back, but it doesn't feel the same. "Are you okay sweetie?" You ask, cupping her cheek.

"Yeah just concentrating. Getting ready to fight people we used to call friends and allies. Sorry I'm not in a lovey mood." She barks. You take a step back. Trying to read her emotions and aura. "Stop reading me." You blink and the colors you barely got to figure out dissipate.

"Fine." You stalk off going to change into your uniform. A blue sleeveless skin tight suit, gloves that go up to your biceps and your stone out and able to 'breathe' you switch out your glasses for contacts that unfortunately Tony made you that show you statistics and a bunch of information if you ask FRIDAY about it. You take a deep breath. The weight of it all hitting you, though you knew you needed to keep your emotions in check.

"Everything okay?" You hear Steve ask.

"Something's wrong...or off with Wanda...She doesn't want me reading her emotions. I'm worried that maybe..." you can't even say it out loud as Steve comes and hugs you. You can feel the tears threatening to spill over at the mere thought of not having her by your side.

"Y/N you're still so young. I know it's hard, but even if she isn't the one. It's going to be okay. No matter what. You'll make it through it." He reassures you. You felt like Steve could understand, he just lost Peggy and he's had to live with the fact that he can never be with the love of his life. You feel the tears fall as Steve hugs you once more.

“You'll make it through it. You're tough.” He reassures once more and you sniffle. You wipe the tears away and put up a Steele resolve. Steve was right. You were tough. This wouldn't kill you. No matter the outcome you couldn't let it kill you.

As everyone prepared for battle and got in place. Steve would go out on his own while the rest of you flanked around. Steve hoped he could just talk Tony down, but Tony practically came out swinging as he tended to do. Words fell on deaf ears as the battle started. You threw yourself into the battle, going after Vision and letting your anger rage out. Matching pace with him as you landed punch after punch. The synthezoid showed no signs of damage even after a hammer fist sent him flying into a crater in the ground.

“Why won't you just stay down!” You yelled before being grabbed by red tendrils on magic and flung into the side of a plane leaving a crater of your own. 

“Why don't you!?” You heard Wanda yell a venom in her voice you'd never once had directed at you. You faltered for a moment before pushing yourself off the plane with enough force to push it onto its side. 

“I gave you everything and this is how you repay me!?” You asked, going toe to toe with someone who was supposed to be your girlfriend, your friend, your ally. As you raise your fist to her you hesitate. You remember the moment you met her. When Tasha brought her to you. You remember how she melted against you with that first hug. You put your fist down. “I could never use my power on you.” you seethe at her as her face twists in a mix of shock and realization that she had hurt you, had sent you flying with her magic for fighting Vision who was our enemy right now. 

Before anymore words can be exchanged you feel a sharp pain in your back as you fall to the ground. Vision had hit you with the only thing that could physically hurt you. His powers from the mind stone. Your own stone short circuiting from the power as you lay there motionless other than the occasional involuntary twitch.

As the battle unfolded, the fractures within the Avengers became glaringly apparent. Friendships strained, alliances shattered – it was a heartbreaking spectacle that left you grappling with conflicting emotions. The internal turmoil mirrored the external chaos, and your thoughts inevitably circled back to Wanda.

Engaged in the clash now with some Spider kid, you couldn't help but steal glances at her, attempting to gauge her emotions from a distance. The connection that had once felt so profound now seemed elusive, and the dissonance weighed heavily on your heart.

When the dust settled, and the repercussions of your choices became evident, you couldn't shake the feeling that the path ahead held even greater challenges. The division among you, the fractures in relationships, and the uncertainty about Wanda's feelings all loomed over you, casting a shadow on what had once felt like an unbreakable bond.

The clash of the Avengers had left scars, both visible and unseen, and you knew that healing would be a complex journey fraught with challenges. Yet, with the resilience born from shared hardships, you clung to the hope that you could find a way to mend what had been broken and emerge stronger on the other side.

Steve and Bucky managed to get away thanks to Natasha and you tried following her, but she ran off with nothing, but the promise that you'd see her soon and a kiss on the top of your head. She also used the electric shock device on you and all you wanted to do was cry as she left you there writhing in pain and left to deal with too many emotions on your own as waves of purple magic came off of you until the Earth gave out beneath you. You now lay in a deep crater of your own making. 

You'd rather die than lose both the women you care about. Yet, here you are, still breathing. Though you were breathing you didn't feel alive anymore.

[demonicbaby666]

Unspoken Rules

one shot | Marvel Masterlist | Masterlists

Gif not mine, credit to owner

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!Reader

Genre: Angst with spice and a tiny bit of comfort 

Words: 3.4k+

Warnings: NSFW, smut, cursing, top!Wanda, bottom!reader, praise, strap-on use (W), kinda beefy Wanda (not sure). 

Summary: Wanda had been paying you late night visits for a couple months now, and despite there being no verbal agreement, you knew feelings had no place in the relationship. Despite that, feelings had begun to surface within you and you tried to suppress them until one night you can’t help but blurt out the truth. 

A/n: okay so timeline wise i would say this is set between age of Ultron and Civil War however you can play around with it as you wish! For future fics I’ll try to tinker them so it works well with timelines but for my first Wanda fic I hope this will do! Also please let me know if there are errors haven’t really proofread it well <3

Unbeknownst to the team you and Wanda had been seeing each other for close to six months, though ‘seeing’ wasn’t the best way of putting it. What started as a one-night stand had now become a full-fledged, sex crazed, lustful, non-committal relationship. The key words being non-committal. 

Though you knew you wanted more than just quick fucks and sneaking around, it seemed fairly clear the same could not be said for Wanda. After losing so many people, letting anyone into her heart was an absolute and definite no. So, you settled. It wasn’t your proudest moment, but the way she made you feel during those nights she’d quietly enter your room was unlike anything you’d ever known. She knew your body in a way no one else had come to know it, pinpointing each pleasure point and utilizing them till you were utterly spent almost every time. 

Though you could never tell her, you relished the comfortability that exuded from every interaction the two of you shared. The only kicker being it was fleeting, and you’d be forced time after time to watch as she snuck back out of your room without so much as a word, or you’d wake up to an empty bed. None of that mattered, the unspoken rules were simple, feelings had no place in what the two of you were doing. 

Judging by the lack of sleep you were enduring due to Wanda’s absence; it would seem you did indeed care a lot more than you wanted and the unspoken rule was now tarnished and swept to one side. The truth was she had become your weakness, one too many times your thoughts had been clouded on missions when Wanda was in a compromising position. Yes, it was stupid to doubt her abilities, but your heart would stop whenever she went quiet over comms, driving you insane. The anguish you felt when she’d come back injured was incomparable, it tore at your heartstrings not to be able to run over and tend to her wounds. 

Whether the same was applicable to Wanda remained unknown. 

It was early in the morning, the sun cascaded in through the curtains of your room, another reminder you hadn’t slept all night. Soft faint chirps could be heard from out the window  and though, to some, they were comforting, they only added to the clutter headache that was forming and vibrating along your temples. It had been almost a week since Wanda had last visited you in the dead of night, and you were coming to realise just how reliant you’d become on her to lull you to sleep. 

It had been around the three-month marker she’d begun staying with you after your endeavors, by morning the hands that held you tight would be gone, and with them, her. You told yourself it was more than before, and that had to be enough, that this wasn’t a relationship, you didn’t do the things couples did, so on the first night she stayed with you, you kicked yourself for assuming the outcome would be anything other than what it was.

Sleep didn’t seem like it was on the table, the bedsheets clung to your chest, and though they provided warmth it was nothing compared to that of another body. All you wanted to do was go to Wanda, but you knew better. The previous few nights you’d longed to hear the creaking sound of your door, light footsteps making their way to your bed and soft fingers exploring every inch of your body. It was never the other way, she was in control, another unspoken rule. 

Wanda chose where, she chose when, and no matter how hard you wanted or tried to say no, the primal need for her would always win over. The reality was you’d never stop letting it win, giving yourself over to her in any way she wanted time and time again. There it was again, that unyielding yearning for her, it controlled everything you did, overshadowing all rational and logical thoughts. 

You were lost so in your own thoughts that you’d failed to hear the light footsteps that padded towards you on the bed. 

“Hey.” She whispered.

Raising your head and sitting up, your gaze landed on sage green orbs peering down at you. They seemed empty and hollow, the dark rings that tinted her under eyes indicated you weren’t the only one battling sleep. 

“Hey.” You replied with a soft, timid smile lining your lips. 

She bent over and connected your lips for mere seconds, you’d barely had time to kiss back before Wanda’s lips trailed down your jawline and came to your neck. Lightly she began sucking on the skin, immediately your body responded, letting her push you backwards until your head once again made contact with soft pillows. 

Some nights were slow and passionate, others were fast, and hunger filled, this however, was different. The kisses were filled with sorrow, and sadness, it was as though they were almost painful. Unspoken words were being translated into feather light pecks, deciphering them became harder and harder with each passing moment. Butterflies flittered around low in your stomach, your hands became clammy, demanding to roam free and feel Wanda’s bare skin.

She took her time peppering light kisses all over your neck before slowly pulling down the bedsheets and sliding a hand under your shirt, though her hand never strayed higher than your waist. 

Giving into desire, you brought your hands up and slowly ran your fingers through auburn hair, your fingertips lightly grazing over her scalp. The hand on your waist still hadn’t moved, even when she hoisted herself on top of you. 

She dragged her lips back to yours, her tongue dangerously edged out and slipped through the part in your lips, which you readily allowed and accommodated for. Her tongue met yours and the two muscles swirled around each other engaging in a reunion dance that sent embers of heat down to your core. 

This was all so different, and you couldn’t understand why. You knew she used you for your body and in some ways, you did the same, but from the moment she placed her lips on yours something told you this encounter was leading to a kind of intimacy the two of you had yet to share. 

Trying to refocus, you poured all your attention to the hand that was finally moving from your waist. Fingertips lightly grazed over your left nipple, tracing slow circles around the shaded area of your areola, under her soft touch you melted like an ice cube on a summer's day. As the kiss continued the air surrounding you both began to fill with a sense of urgency you weren’t used to. Her tongue moved feverishly in your mouth, she started pulling you up until you were both sat upright, and she could easily remove your baggy t-shirt before pushing back down on the bed. 

Lips began contrasting the skin over your collarbone with shades of light purple as Wanda began sucking a particular spot, she knew had an effect on you all too well, then delicately nursing the area with light kisses that had your stomach in knots. There was no more denying it, this was different, it was caring, each light kiss held meaning, held some semblance of love. You knew if you didn’t stop now, you’d lose the willpower the moment things got any more heated than they already were, and you needed answers. 

Unspoken rules be damned, something was transpiring within this morning visit and you had to know what it was. 

“Wait.” You breathed out, resting your hands on her shoulders and applying light pressure to push her away.

The moment her lips left your skin you felt the absence of them crashing down on you, the intimate bubble surrounding the two of you burst when she stared down at you, her eyes held so much confusion but were littered with a vast array of underlying emotions you were helplessly trying to pinpoint. 

The silence was deafening, shallow breaths filled the four walls of your room but no words came from either of you. Instead, Wanda stared down at you studying your face, evidently trying to figure out what was going on, a small pout formed on her lips whilst her brow contrastingly furrowed. But her eyes, they were blazing down on you, silently demanding answers. 

“Wanda, what’s going on?” You asked, you hadn’t meant to, really you hadn’t, but every syllable was laced with concern. 

Her eyes flickered for a second, sadness washed over her face and all her features dropped. Her emotions betrayed her only for a split second before her mask resurfaced and fell into place. She rolled off you and stood by the side of the bed. Her change in demeanor had caught you off guard, the weight of her walking away only dawning on you as she’d almost reached the door. 

You scrambled to your feet, ignoring your blurred vision you wedged yourself between Wanda and the door preventing her from leaving. 

“Please.”

It was there and then you realised just how small and meek you were, practically begging her to stay, bare chested and in only your underwear, tears threatened to fall as your reflection of submission mocked you in the mirror. You didn’t want it this way, you didn’t want to give in this easily, you didn’t want to need her. You’d tried to fight it over the last few sleepless nights but with the reminder of what it felt like to have her lips on yours it was too painful having it ripped away. Your heart was telling you to give in whilst your mind begged you to reveal the truth. 

“I have feelings Wanda.” 

Emerald confliction stared you dead on and if it wasn’t already enough being physically exposed, you felt emotionally naked, your body was on fire, your face flushed, whilst her eyes continued to bore down on you. 

“I know.” 

Her body came crashing onto yours, forcing your back to collide with the door and making a loud thud. Wanda’s hands resting on the bare skin of your waist sent chills down your spine, her lips claimed yours, and you swear you could feel all the emotions seep from her and flow into the kiss. Tears that were formed from shame ran down your cheeks, now tears of relief. The kiss was slow and gentle, nothing like all the previous kisses the two of you had shared. It lasted a few minutes before Wanda pulled back and rested her head to yours. 

“You knew?” You whispered, too scared to re-open the topic of discussion. 

“I’ve known for a while, just give me time to work it all out, there’s so much I don’t know right now and what we have, I don't want it to stop.” she breathlessly said against your lips. 

You laced your finger through thick auburn waves once more, holding her close, not wanting her lips to stray far from yours ever again.

“Okay.”

With that you pulled her back in for a searing kiss that was filled with all the hope you could barely keep contained. You knew it was too much to ask of Wanda to utter the same words you’d said to her, to outwardly admit she too may be harboring feelings, so settling for this seemed a good alternative. She merely needed time, and you would readily give her it. 

Her tongued swept the length of your bottom lip and suddenly you were greeted with the feeling of her bare skin against your own, her nipples lightly brushed against your own and sent a pang of heat directly between your legs. The irony of needing time and Wanda making light work of it caused you to smirk into the kiss. Though, the smirk was quickly wiped off your face when you felt something hard press against the thin material of your panties, causing you to quietly whimper. 

Wisps of red danced around you before fading into nothing, what was strapped to Wanda though, was most definitely not nothing. When you pulled back to stare at the full size of the strap your jaw dropped working out how exactly you were going remain quiet. Taking a few moments to gawk at the false cock you admired the wearer, letting your eyes wander all over her body, toned stomach, perky breast, lust filled eyes and finally settling on her soft puffy pink lips. 

Wanda guided your hands so that they were wrapped around her neck and pulled you in for a tender sweet kiss, most likely as a feeble attempt to distract you. Her hands descended your body, one gripped your waist whilst the other settled on the back of your thigh, which she then swept up to curl around her hip. The strap prodded at your entrance causing you to realise your underwear had mysteriously vanished, but you were too overtaken by waves of desire pulsing through your body to care.

She pushed the tip into you, the size of it already stretching you out and causing your breath to hitch. She waited for a brief second until you gave her a small nod, then began sliding further in until half her cock disappeared into you, deliciously filling your throbbing canal with her girth. The strap steadily slithered all the way out to the tip then back in, each time going in deeper until the full eight inches were inside. Becoming aware that the team were just on the other side of the door Wanda parted her lips to swallow every small moan that was free falling from your mouth.

“Oh shit, you’re so big.” You mumbled into her mouth. 

Once she knew you could take her full length, she tightened her grip on your waist, pushing you harder against the wall as she started pumping in and out at a slow and controlled pace; meanwhile her tongue invaded your mouth. The slow fuck was both erotic and torturous, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it that way, each thrust filled you with a sense of joy and sent fire coursing through your veins that was unlike anything you’d ever known, only she could do this to you, Wanda was the only one you’d let do this to you. 

“You’re taking me so well baby.” She husked before shoving her tongue back into your mouth. 

She had been thrusting into you for several long minutes, the pace still excruciatingly slow and left you all but sobbing. Tension began growing in your lower stomach, your body on fire; keeping her speed at a minimal she increased the power of her pumps, your insatiable appetite still wasn’t being fed. It had been minutes of torture and you wanted, no, needed your release. 

“Harder.” You begged against her lips. 

Almost on command and with no fight Wanda jerked her hips with more vigour, the harness practically smacking into your cunt, the strap hit that special spot deep inside you with each motion. If it wasn’t for her hand holding you firmly up and against the wall you would have collapsed from the sheer power building up within your core. Small whimpers left your mouth and went barrelling into Wanda’s. Your back rubbed against the wall and you weren’t sure how much more friction you could take before the pain overshadowed the pleasure coursing through your veins. 

Unable to control your own body, your head fell back against the door and Wanda was quick to take full advantage of this. Her head slowly descended to your neck when she set about teething, licking, and kissing your pulse point. When her hand moved from your waist to cup your breast you lost all composure and a loud moan rippled through the room, without Wanda holding you as firmly, you began bouncing along to the rhythm she was setting, your back now on fire against the wall.

You moved a hand that was previously holstered around Wanda’s neck to nestle in her hair and pulled her away so she could stare directly into your eyes whilst she continued to fuck you. 

“Fuck me on the bed.” you said looking directly into Wanda’s hunger crazed eyes, “please.” 

Bringing her head back up so she was level with you once again, she removed her hand from your breast and moved it to the back of your other thigh, mirroring her previous actions she pulled your leg to wrap around her waist and held you firm. Somehow the strap burrowed impossibly deeper inside you causing you to let out a shaky breath and a small cry. 

Each step towards the bed caused slight movement within you and you had to wedge your bottom lip between your teeth to stop yourself from making any sounds. You landed softly on your back, hands came to your wrists and pinned you down as pistoning hips drove all eight inches hard and fast into you, working you into a frenzy. You moved as one with Wanda who was forcefully fucking into you, hips ground down in rhythm as the hard silicone moved flawlessly against your g-spot, offering new bats of euphoria to cascade over your whole being. 

When you looked up into her eyes the intensity and fire held within them sent you barrelling over the edge. You struggled and thrashed against the hands holding you down, desperate to touch the bare skin of the woman who was taking you to new heights. Wanda’s hips were more frantic, the harness positioned against her clit perfectly so that every thrust sent a jolt of pleasure running through her body, she released your hands, and placed them either side of your head, to evenly hold her own weight. She buried her face into your glistening neck, sinking her teeth into salty flesh in an attempt to muffle her groans but ripping yet another whimper from you. Your hand buried itself in fiery locks and the other fell to Wanda’s ass, helping her in her jagged ministrations. 

The tension in your lower abdomen was at an all-time high, and you felt your walls tighten around her false cock, feeling her completely and entirely filling you. You half groaned, half screamed when she kept up her fast pace, your whole body tensed and your back arched as you finally found your release. 

Wanda kept sloppily pumping into you, chasing her own orgasm, leading your whole body to shake. Your head flew back, repeatedly hitting the mattress, you were helpless as Wanda was amping you up into a second orgasm. The team be damned there was no way you could be quiet, sounds of your wet sex were drowned out by cries of pleasure from both you and Wanda. 

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” You sobbed, tears of pleasure stung in your eyes and your fingernails dug into her skin leaving behind five crescent marks. 

“Cum with me.” 

After a mere few seconds of rapid and hard jerks Wanda bit down harder on your neck containing a loud groan within her throat, you tried to do the same however you weren’t as successful, but none of that mattered, not when you both were enthralled in a pool of passion. 

“Now.” 

And you did as instructed, you relaxed and let your second orgasm take place, leaving you paralysed. You let your legs fall from Wanda’s waist and bounce down on the bed as you tried to control your breathing. Wanda slumped down next to you, both staring up at the ceiling, panting breathlessly from the events that had left you both speechless and utterly spent. Quiet and carefully, you inched closer to Wanda, testing the waters you placed your head to her moving chest and tried to relax. 

You lay in bed dreading the thought of Wanda leaving, your head rested on her chest as she ran her fingers delicately through your hair, the act of affection was all too bittersweet knowing it was momentary. Despite the pit that had taken place in your stomach, the soft slow brushes of her fingertips along your scalp lulled you, your eyelids soon grew heavy, and sleep claimed you. 

When you woke up a few hours later, sadness began to set in, as it usually did, however a voice nagged in your head reminding you that this time was different. And it would seem that small voice may have been right. The arm that remained looped around your waist and the sleeping body pressed against your back confirmed that.

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