#I hate working with backlighting in gifs

[basilone]

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

Hey do you still do request? if you do can i request a vaas x hurt fem reader?

where reader and vaas were old friends, they ended their friendship couple years before jason his friends came to the island,Reader made herself a group of people who hated citra and vaas, jason find a group with girl leader, citra warded jason about, but reader was very welcoming towards jason, when jason went after vaas citra told jason that vaas and reader were old friends and she told him if he wanted to hurt vaas he had to kill reader, jason walked into readers house she was about to tell he something but she stopped when she saw the gun in his hand, vaas heard gunshots not to far away fro where he was, him and his group when went to look what the gunfire was, when he find readers group all died he knew jason and citra did it, he went into readers house and saw her blooding out on the floor with a gun in her hand, vaas thought she wouldnt make it back to his camp. i love your work so much!!

Crimson Allure || Vaas Montenegro x Female Reader

A/n: I love this idea, hun. And I apologize it took so long to do. We added so much more to this plot, and it morphed into one hell of an idea, so I hope I got everything right. Please enjoy. Also, I will admit that I had on repeat Backlight by Ado the entire time I was writing this, so I apologize if certain aspects of the song found its way into the story.

Warning(s): Vaas being Vaas, blood and injury, minor character death, Female (Seed) Reader, gun violence, and vaginal sex.

No Minors Allowed!!

The rich earthy scent of mud permeates the air as you saunter from the main hut upon hearing your name. Your boots sink into the damp soil as you approach an unnamed man with various tattoos on his upper arms, leaning down in front of him. You aren't bothered by the dirt on your knees as your pants absorb the moisture from the earth; you were born in a poor neighborhood in Rome, Georgia where mud on your pants was not as concerning as the abuse you had suffered from your old man – a story for another time. So, when the native spits at you, almost hitting you in the face, you easily ignore it.

"Citra sent you here, did she not?" You ask.

Lifting your arm, you point toward a wooden crate sitting nearby.

"For those? Whatever is inside must be important to her; enough so that she sent four of her warriors here to steal it from us."

The man grins in response.

"You and the fake islanders are no better, stealing from the pirates; from that bastard Vaas."

You turn up your eyes. Unlike Citra, you are not scared to confront Vaas. You had made the call to swarm one of his outposts and retrieve the crate. If he came knocking, you'd be more than happy to welcome him with a gun to the head.

Gesturing toward the crate, you watch in anticipation as one of your men breaks into it with a crowbar. He reaches inside and yanks out an assault rifle; the kind of firepower you were hoping to gain. You turn your eyes back to the Rakyat (people) warrior, grinning.

"So, she's making a move on Vaas. But one crate won't do her any better than it does us."

"Our pemimpin (leader) has more than enough; she has a serdadu (warrior); one befitting of the Tatau," the man explains.

You've heard these words before. It's troublesome, but there is nothing you can do but confront the warrior when they start a war with you, and they will; you know Citra made damn sure to give them your name.

Standing with a sigh, you turn your back to the man, content with this information.

"The serdadu (warrior) is coming from your head next!" The man shouts.

You snort and peer over your shoulder at him.

"I hope so. The sooner this business is over with them; the sooner the Tinju (fist) of the island can drive away the devils plaguing it."

Leaving your warriors to deal with the man, you walk back into the hut, hearing your walkie go off. You recognize the impatient voice on the other end and quickly answer it, ignoring the gunshot that pierces the air.

"I'm here. Forgive me."

"Where the fuck are you?" Asks the voice.

You sit down at your desk overlooking the postcards and hidden letters that you had been fondly looking through before your name had been called, picking a postcard up. The image on the front was of a beautiful mountain range with the words: 'Greetings from the Whitetail Region, Hope County' below it.

"Answer me, girl," the voice of Hoyt Volker orders.

You frown, pressing down on the call button.

"I'm on the North Island. The walkies barely pick up here."

"The fuck are you doing over there?" Hoyt asks. He knows the answer; he's just testing you.

Unbeknownst to him, you are planning a revolution. The Tinju (fist) are natives of the Rook Islands who are fed up with Vaas and Citra murdering and puppeteering them for their gain. They are not as bloodthirsty or organized as the Pirates or the Rakyat (people), but their determination to see the islands returned to them is strong; so strong that they are willing to stare death in the face to get it.

"I came here to check on the island as you asked. Vaas is running around pissing off the natives and in protest, they are stealing guns and burning down marijuana fields," you explain.

It isn't a complete lie. Hoyt did ask you to see what was going on, only you've been the one orchestrating the entire thing; at least the two you had mentioned.

"I only want to make you happy, father."

It stings to address him as such, but you have no other option. He did adopt you after all; train you into the monster that you are now. Tears sting your eyes as you stare at the words on the back of the postcard; loving words from your older brother Joseph who welcomes you into his flock, telling you that Eden's Gate – his church – will always be home to you. Home is all you have ever wanted, especially since you lost yours when you were 13; the day you were kidnapped from your foster family and sold.

Hoyt had been the one pulling the strings, a human trafficker who seemed to take a liking to you. He had kept you by his side ever since, adopting you as his own and molding you however he wanted. You were already a broken thing; years of abuse from Old Man Seed and the separation from your brothers had made you colder, but once you got in contact with John, your twin, after seeing him on the TV, he promised that Joseph could save your soul.

You just had to finish your business on the island and then return to your brothers. Two years ago, it had not been your intention to become the leader of the Tinju (fist), but after seeing the remaining natives; the ones not bound to Citra's will or Vaas' insanity, you had gathered them together and given them hope. Perhaps you are more like Joseph than you had thought.

"That's a good girl. Get your ass back here when you can," Hoyt demanded.

"I will," you state.

And when you do, you plan to bring an army with you.

You set the walkie down on the desk, and then gather the letters and postcards from your brothers; one in particular from John had explained the symbolism of carving sins into your flesh as a way to atone through pain, so like him, you had etched 'sloth' onto your chest, crossing it out as a way to show that the sin didn't control you; not anymore; not when you were doing everything in your power to liberate the Rook Islands.

Taking the letters, you stash them away in your bag and then saunter over to the wall where a map of the island is pinned up with tacks. Several pirate outposts are circled in red and green; the Tinju (fist) and whoever Citra's warrior is liberated many of them. Your outpost is a small one located northwest of Amanaki Village, but you easily notice the recent pattern of red leading to your doorstep.

That's fine; let them come.

Perhaps there is a way to align both of your interests.

The sound of gunshots wakes you from a restless sleep. You sit up on your cot and glance around the darkness of the main hut as something terrible transpires around you. The scent of smoke seizes your lungs, making you cough. What is going on out there? Hearing a noise outside your hut, one of your men runs in with a recently stolen assault rifle and claims in a panic that the hut is on fire; the warrior that Citra had made is here.

"We need to take you away from here, majikan (boss)," he mentions.

You are reluctant to do as he suggests, however. You can't leave them to protect the outpost alone.

"We are nothing without you. Let us protect you," he insists.

"That isn't true," you argue with a cough.

Your warrior seems reluctant to argue with you, but he rushes over and yanks you onto your feet and leads you outside. The cold mud squishes between your toes and in your haste, you forget to grab the walkie and your bag. The damage nearly makes you cry. Several of your people are dead and the outpost is in ruins; red and orange fire spreads quickly from one building to the next devouring everything from the armory to the hut that you frequently inhabit.

My letters.

All this violence without reason just to take your life. Fuck Citra! A rage burns in you as you stand there backlit by the flames. How dare she.

"I need a gun," you declare.

The man holding your arm stares at you for a moment in uncertainty and then hands you his secondary weapon. You pull away from him, yanking the hammer back on the handgun, and then you walk toward the sound of gunfire as your people attempt to protect the base from the intruder. You are incredibly scared but your anger forces you to act.

"Are you scared?" Hoyt had once asked you, as he forced a gun into your hand – the first time he made you shoot a person who crossed him. "Don't get scared. You make mistakes when you are scared."

You take a deep breath, remembering his cruel but practical words. He's right. You are acting out in anger and fear, and not thinking reasonably. Your brothers would urge you to try a more peaceful approach and speak with the warrior. You aren't Citra and you sure as hell aren't Vaas. But how to get their attention?

You spot a man you have never seen before; a foreigner with brown hair peeking out from behind a crate of weapons. Motioning for your people to cease fire, you approach him recklessly, keeping enough distance between you both in case he decides you aren't worth the breath you are about to take. His attention falls on you, staring you down, then he ducks behind the crates.

"Do I have your attention? I want to speak to you," you ask.

"My name is Jason," he replies. "Are you the leader here?"

At least you know his name now.

"I am, so shut the fuck up and listen for a moment!" You shout. Yes, you are still pissed about losing your letters. "We're not your enemy! I'm not sure what Citra promised you, but you're killing the wrong fucking people!"

Silence permeates the air, and you wonder if Jason had considered your words.

"Do you know Vaas?!" He asks with a shout.

What sort of question is that? You raise a curious brow.

"Yes. He's the only other asshole besides Citra and Hoyt on this island that I have to deal with day in and day out."

"He took my friends! I'm gonna kill that motherfucker! And if what Citra said is right, you are the only way to hurt him," Jason explains.

What sort of lie did Citra tell him? You and Vaas may have seen eye to eye before; four years ago, when Hoyt had introduced him to you, but things were much different now.

"Vaas and I--"

The said man suddenly interrupts you, standing up and firing his gun. You feel a sharp pain bite at your side and as you look down, you notice red blooming across your shirt.

He shot me... The fuck.

A wave of cold dizziness washes over you and you fall to your knees in the mud, gripping the wound. You aren't sure who starts it, but gunfire echoes around the camp. A pair of warm hands grab your arms, yanking you onto your feet and leading you toward a Scavenger parked near the gate. Two of your people enter the vehicle, ushering you into the back. You lean your head against the headrest as the driver steers from the outpost and tears down the dirt road, heading to where you hope is the Doctor's house.

You can't believe Jason didn't listen to you. Yes, you understand the reason, but he should have at least heard you out. So much for taking the high road. You shut your eyes in annoyance listening to the two argue in the front. The sound of the tires tearing down the road permeates your ears, then all at once you hear the sound of gunshots.

Is he following––

The Scavenger comes to a sudden stop, almost tossing you from the seat. You open your eyes and to your horror, you notice a vehicle parked on the road. A man in red – a pirate – stands behind the turret attached to the vehicle he's in, aiming it in your direction.

"Get down!" You shout.

A rain of bullets pelts the hood of the vehicle. You dunk into the floor behind the seat, groaning as your side erupts in burning pain. As the gunfire ceases and the air clears, you dare a glance into the front and passenger seat to see that your people are thankfully alive. The vehicle is not as fortunate. Smoke rises from the holes in the hood and vanishes in the gunpowder-scented air. Who would––

"Are you alive, cocksuckers?!" A familiar voice asks loudly.

Your eyes widen. What is Vaas doing here?

This is bad.

What are you to do? You need medical attention, but you know that Vaas will not be kind to either you or your people. Groaning, you ease into the backseat, remaining down in case he urges the pirates to continue shooting.

"Lie down your guns and do your best not to annoy him," you order the two in the front.

You have no idea if Vaas will spare them but perhaps you can keep him from immediately killing them. He may do the same to you; it's hard to say. Your people toss their guns into the floorboards, waiting for your next move as you slowly pop open the back door.

"We're unarmed!" You shout.

"¡Mierda (shit)! Is that you, Volker?!" Vaas asks, sounding more humored than concerned.

You hate when he calls you this. Without it, however, his pirates would not fear you; Vaas certainly doesn't, but at least he won't put a bullet between your eyes.

"It is!" You answer with a shout. It hurts to do so, and you are extremely tired, but you have no other choice. Honestly, it would be easier to talk to him face-to-face. "We're coming out!"

Easing open the back door a bit more, you step out first.

"Don't make eye contact with him and if he speaks to you, don't raise your voice," you order your people in a whisper.

Clutching your side, you stumble toward the Scavenger sitting in the road where Vaas is standing with three others whose names you don't know. Like it or not, you are his enemy and so resting on your knees in front of him is the only choice you have; your people follow suit.

"You look like shit, amiga (friend)," the pirate states with a snort. He saunters over and crouches in front of you, reaching down to force your hand away from the wound earning a groan of pain from you.

"I need a doctor. I'm bleeding out," you mention. A wave of dizziness crashes over you and for a moment and you have to slam your eyes closed to keep from falling onto your side.

Vaas presses his finger against the hole, bringing you to with a sob as pain surges through your side. You want to cuss him; to tell him to fuck off, but you know better.

"Who put a bullet in you?"

"That w-wannabe Citra has running around the island for her. He has a bone to pick with you for taking his friends," you answer.

Vaas raises a brow.

"Snow fucking White went after you? That pequeña perra (little bitch) has some big cojones (testicles)."

"Well, he got me," you utter. "And if I don't get to a doctor, I'm as good as dead."

There is no way in hell you are going to beg him to save you, but things are looking grim for you. It feels like any second you may pass out.

"I don't feel good," you utter with a weak laugh.

Standing up, Vaas motions for a pirate – a wall of a man with an assault rifle – to come closer, whispering something to him. The man looks down at you, then walks over and pulls you onto your feet. The sudden movement causes your head to spin, but you shake it off, turning to glance over your shoulder as Vaas takes out his gun.

"Vaas?"

You know exactly what he is planning.

"Let them go. Vaas please," you beg.

Struggling against the pirate, he opens the back door and pushes you inside. To your horror, your people are gunned down. Angry tears burn your eyes as you turn them to the floor, not wanting to see their bodies. You knew he'd never let them go; it was ignorant on your part to ask them to tuck their tails and accept death. Resting your back against the seat, you wait for Vaas to return, sitting beside you – a pirate in a red bandana sits on the other side. Glaring at him, he ignores you and orders the wall of a man – who he refers to as Carlos – to drive.

The dizziness sets in, and you whimper, leaning your head against his arm. Despite the heat, you're freezing. It's too much just to keep your eyes open, so you close them, fading out of consciousness.

Familiar voices reach your ears, pulling you into consciousness; your body fights back, begging you to go back to sleep but you manage to open your eyes and look around. A man in a dirty white coat catches your attention first and you immediately recognize him, Dr. Earnhardt. The other voice belongs to Vaas, who stands in front of the bed that you are lying on. His attention turns to you as you try to sit up.

"Rest, my dear," the doctor orders, walking to your side. "You suffered a nasty shot to the side, but luckily for you, I found someone who could give you a few liters of blood."

"I feel like shit," you utter weakly, resting on the mattress. "It's good to see you, Dr. E."

"Likewise," the said man mentioned with a smile.

You aren't sure which comment he is agreeing with, but you ignore it.

"How am I doing?"

"You're going to live, my dear. The bullet came out the other side, so there was no need to go fishing around in there for it. And as far as I can tell, your bowl was not perforated; you should be fine. I'm not a real doctor, however, so you should try not to exert yourself," Dr. E answers. He leans closer and grins. "I can however offer you something to take away the pain if you like."

You aren't sure you will fare well on whatever drugs he has to offer. His shit is strong, you hear.

"I'm fine. Thank you for patching me up though."

"No problem, dear. You know where to find me if you need me," the doctor states.

With a concerned look, he turns and walks out of the room, leaving you with Vaas. The pirate is quiet; you find this weird. You don't want to speak to him, not after he shot your people, but you do owe him a kind word for saving your life.

"Thank you, Vaas."

He glances at you and hums.

"The fuck was Citra thinking?"

"I don't know. All Jason said was that she told him to kill me because it would hurt you somehow," you answer.

Vaas snorts.

"Puta (bitch)! Thinks she knows how to get into my fucking head."

And now you are as good as dead. Vaas knows your plans; he can easily take you to Hoyt for betraying him. You rest your arm over your face, holding back a sob. It sucks to have come this far, just to be caught by the enemy. You would have loved to have seen your brothers; met your new sister, Faith.

"Can you do something for me Vaas?" You ask, removing your arm to look at him. "I don't want to be taken back to Hoyt after what my people and I did. He won't ever let me go; the sick fuck will probably respect the fact I tried to overthrow him. I'd rather die and I'd rather it be you who kills me."

Vaas grins.

"Is that what you want, Volker? To give papi (daddy) the finger. You are fucking loca (crazy)... but I respect that." He scratches at the scar above his eyes, then pulls his gun and tosses it onto the table nearby. Crawling onto the bed, he slides open your legs and rests between them.

You raise a brow in curiosity. What is he doing?

"If you are giving me your life, I'm gonna take my time with it. A bullet is too easy," Vaas explains.

Perhaps this is a mistake.

He leans down and presses his mouth against yours, causing your eyes to widen. He can't be serious. Pushing against his chest, you part from him.

"What are you doing?"

Vaas grins and presses his fingers against your bandaged side; you groan in protest.

"I'm fucking Hoyt's daughter."

You are speechless. Staring into his wild green eyes, you think back to the first time you had met him. He was a former Rakyat (people) whose eyes held a burning hatred in them. Hoyt seemed to like his passion, but you feared the damage he could do if left to his own devices. Two years later, he became a leader and his rage seemed to grow, powered by drugs and whatever anger he felt for Citra, who you later learned was his sister. There had been a certain allure to his madness that held you captive.

And hearing him admit to wanting to fuck you drives you insane with need. You lean up on your elbows despite the pain in your side, kissing him. Fingers slide into your hair, angling your head

You sink your hand down to his cock, rubbing it through his pants. Vaas groans against your mouth and then pushes you back down onto the bed. You watch him stand, undoing his pants and removing them. His hard cock makes your mouth water as you wait eagerly for him to get back on the bed. Once he does, he reaches for the button on your pants and helps you remove them, taking your panties as well.

"My hero," you tease.

Vaas snorts and spreads your legs, resting between your thighs.

"You're funny, no? Save your praises."

He lines his cock up at your entrance and turns his eyes to you. Vaas has to know you want him; you shouldn't have to beg, but you know it's what he wants to hear.

"Please. I want this... I want you."

With an uncontrolled thrust, he enters you, earning a moan in response. Your walls tighten around him as he begins to wreck your pussy, bouncing you. Vaas brings one hand up and rests it on the bed next to your head to support his weight; the other slides beneath your shirt and to your chest, reaching beneath your bra to caress your breasts one at a time. His warm hand makes your nipples harden.

"You know, I never knew you were into self-mutilation, Volker," Vaas mentions as his fingers cross over the word on your chest.

"It's a way for me t-to atone," you claim as you wrap your legs around his waist. He wouldn't understand even if you explained it to him. "And furthermore, if you want this pussy to stay wet, then you'd best not call me Volker."

Vaas snorts and pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Your pussy tightens in response. Releasing you, he traces your side and presses against the bandage. A terrible pain shoots through you as he does so.

"Easy," you groan.

Vaas lets up and though it hurts a bit his thrusts hit your cervix in a way that brings you pain and pleasure. It's almost too much, enough so that this won't last much longer. Tightening your legs around his waist, the sensation in your lower body continues to grow until you can no longer contain it. A surge of pleasure tears through you, causing your worn-out body to tense up beneath the pirate. With one hand he grips your hip; the other continues to rest beside your head as he pounds into you, grinning as your soft moans permeate the air. As you slowly come down from your high, Vaas pulls from you, covering your thighs in cum.

This almost seems unreal. You unwind your legs from the pirate's waist, allowing him to stand up beside the bed. Your throat is dry and sore as you attempt to clear your throat, pointing to the mess on your thighs. He doesn't expect you to let it dry, does he?

Tossing you his shirt to clean up with, he rests on the bed beside you. Once you are done, you resume your spot, groaning as pain shoots through your side. This isn't going to be easy to deal with, but at least you can maintain your cover by stating one of Hoyt's enemies had shot you. Vaas is a loose end, however. He can turn you in if he wants; an action you are curious as to whether or not he will do.

"Are you going to tell Hoyt about this? About the Tinju (fist)?" You ask.

"That fucker is gonna love this," Vaas teases, sticking out his tongue.

You turn up your eyes.

"He's going to shoot us if he finds out, Vaas – especially me."

"I'd do the same," the pirate admits. "And maybe I'll tell him before I put a bullet between his eyes. I fucked your daughter cocksucker; think of that on your way to hell."

You widen your eyes, not because of the taunt but because of what he had said before.

"You plan to kill Hoyt?"

"Who the fuck doesn't," Vaas retorts with a snort.

He has a point.

"But why?" You ask.

Vaas turns onto his side and puts a finger to your lips, hushing you.

"Doesn't fucking matter, Volker. Because you and I are gonna send him to hell... and then we're gonna finish this little game we're playing; the king of the fucking island."

You don't want to rule the island; you never did. Once Hoyt is dead, you plan to go home to the states if this war doesn't kill you first. But this is a story for another time. Vaas is giving you a chance to see at least one of your dreams come true. It's best not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

At least someone shares your rage; even adores you for it. Joseph wouldn't agree with your way of thinking, but this is something that needs to be done.

Whatever comes next is for fate to decide.

Perhaps it should be 'wrath' carved into your skin.

[kilojulietsierra]

Where He Belongs (Manny x wife!ofc)

Manny is about the only reason I'm still watching Mayans right not ngl, Been working on this one since Episode 2 and I think it's finally ready! Manny is missing his girl (wife w/ no name - can be read as reader) and then he finally gets to go home.

Warnings - PWP, 18+ only content, smut, phone sex, sexting, dirty talk, happily married Manny, dirty talk, long distance relationship, mention and discussion of past & future pregnancy, glimpse of Dad!Manny, happy family

~~~

If he was honest, Manny was already sick of this place, sick of this bullshit, and most of all sick of this fucking hotel. Tonight he could not bring himself to go inside right away. While his brothers filtered off to their rooms Manny sat, still straddling his bike. He watched them all disappear behind their respective doors and took a moment to sit in silence.

Instead of going inside himself Manny stood up and stretched, pulling his phone from the front pocket of his jeans before settling back on the bike. This time facing backwards, laying back over the gas tank as he pullsed up a number and hit dial. The FaceTime dial tone reverberated through the deserted parking lot while he pateintly waited.

Finally she picked up, the screen mostly dark and he can see her eyes are shut tight against the glare of the backlight, "Emanuel? Todo bien?"

Just seeing her face made him smile, "Yeah mama, estoy bien. Just missin' my girls. Sorry I woke you up."

"S'okay. How are things there?" She kept her eyes shut and shuffled around in the blankets a bit.

"A god damned clusterfuck." Manny scrubbed a hand over his face, not wanting to think about it. "C'mon mama quit squintin', wanna see those beautiful eyes."

She cracked one eye open, "Nuh uh, too bright." and clamped them shut again.

Manny chuckles, "Want me to let you go back to sleep?" He wasn't ready to let her go yet.

"No, not yet." She smiled sheepishly, half her face burrowed in the pilow.

With a smile and a nod Manny gets comfortable, holding the phone above him as he slouched further back over the bike. "How's mi Bella?"

"Good. Misses her papa. She found some of your old soccer stuff while we were cleaning out the spare room."

"Babe…I told you I'd handle that when I get back…"

"Si… pero cuando? Hmm?" She cracked her eyes open just enough to glare at him, only just teasing.

He sucked his teeth and clutched his free hand to his chest, "Ugh, mi corazon, you're killin' me."

His wife smiled, "She wants to join the youth league this year."

"FInally!" Manny couldn't stop smiling, he'd waited for years for his little girl to show some interest. "You got enough cash for the fees? Or you need me to have one of the boys set you up till I get home?"

"Oh no need. She spent all day yesterday watching game clips on Youtube with Abuelo. He insisted. Setting her up with gear and everything."

"My lil hustler."

"Mhmm, you shoud be proud."

"Always am." His smile softened a little, "How 'bout you mama? How are you?"

"I'm good, tired, work's been crazy and we've all been taking turns helping Marie out. Between the doctors visits and everything… it's been a lot. I took her to get groceries today… with Canche being in and out dealing with Santo Padre…I hate seeing her like this y'know." She was awake enough now to open her eyes some.

Manny could see how tired and emotional she was. "Baby…I'm sorry. I know this shit is fucked up but, I'm proud of you for holding things down and looking out for Marie. Don't know what I'd do without you."

She let her eyes close again. "Try not to think about it." With a smile she added, "Just promise you're bustin' your ass to get home."

He licked his lips and chuckled, "Believe that. Whatever it takes."

There was a long pause in the conversation then where she laid with her eyes closed and Manny just looked at her.

Eventually she smiled and hid her face in the pillow, without opening her eyes she said, "Quit starin'."

He smiled too, "Never." He moved, trying to get comfortable where he laid across his bike, "Killin' me knowin you're there at home in that big, empty bed without me and I'm 'bout to have to go share that room with Gordo's nasty fuckin' ass."

With one eye cracked open and a mischevious grin she asked, "So which one of you is the big spoon and which is the little spoon?"

"Ohhh, so mama thinks she's got jokes now huh?" Manny sat upright, one foot on the ground and the other crossed over the back fender, "Better be careful or I'll come back there and sort that attitude out for you real quick."

"God, that sounds so good right now." His wife smiled, eyes closed, and even in the bad light of the cell phone the little bit of a blush was obvious.

Manny bit his bottom lip and hummed, "Don't tease me baby…"

"You started it." She smiled wider, even giggled a little.

"Mhmm." He nodded, licking his lip, "Wish I was there so I could finish it too." They fell into a comfortable silence for awhile, both smiling, until finally Manny saw her eyes getting heavy again and he started to feel guilty. "I could sit out here and stare at you all night…" Her eyes cracked open again for a split second and he continued, "But I better let you go back to sleep."

She made a sound that was meant to be disagreement, but her eyes barely cracked open.

"Ima let you go back to sleep mama. Besa mi Bella por me, yeah?"

Eyes fighting to stay open she nodded, "Por supuesto."

"Buenas noches mi amor, te quiero mucho."

"Yo tambien papi, te quiero."

Her smile was soft and sweet and he did his best to memorize it before ending the call.

Manny loved his club, and he really did believe in the healing and the future of it… but at night, when the club shit was done, all he wanted was to be home with his girls.

~~~

Gordo's lazy ass was still snoring in the other bed when Manny got up to take a shower the next morning.

He was just about to turn the shower on when he heard his phone ding out by his bed. Scrubbing sleep from his eyes he shuffled back out to grab it, smiling when he saw the message notification from 'Mama'.

He swiped it open and actually felt all the blood rush from his head to his cock.

Quickly he glanced over his shoulder to make sure his roommate was still asleep then took his phone to the bathroom with him.

He shut and locked the door as quiet as he could and turned the hot water on only to lean against the counter and readjust himself through his shorts. "What you doin' to me ma..." He whispered to himself as he opened the video and groaned.

The text said, 'Woke up horny, is it okay if I play with myself papi?' She was only asking to fuck with his head, obviously, because the video attached very clearly showed her naked in their bed, blankets pushed down to her thighs and her hand moving between her legs.

Manny almost called her, but took her lead instead and replied, 'only if you're thinkin bout me while you do' He watched the text swtich from delivered to read and then the three little dots pop up.

'show me somethin' to think about...'

He groaned again and shook his head, laughing a little at himself as he opened the camera on his phone and posed in the mirror. Lip between his teeth, eyes half closed, muscles flexed, one hand gripping his cock through his shorts.

He palmed himself idly as he sent the picture and waited.

'Sexy as always. But i sent you a video...'

Manny rolled his eyes even as his grip on his cock tightened. He texted back, 'anything you want mama' and then trying not to feel silly opened the camera again.

This time he pushed his shorts down low on his hips and pulled his cock free. Turning to the side he began to stroke himself. Slow at first, long steady teasing strokes base to tip, then he sped up keeping a steady rhythm before truly jerking himself hard and fast. After a minute he stopped, chest heaving slightly and his eyes dark, and stretched his fingers to gather his balls and squeeze them in the same hand as he squeezed the base of his cock. The length of it sticking straight out. He gave it a couple shakes this way, his cock bobbing up and down and his balls rolling slightly in his grip.

He sent the video without watching it and waited, continuing to stroke himself.

A minute later she texted back, 'God I miss your cock papi, tell me where you wanna put it."

Manny felt a bolt of electricity roll down his spine to the base of his cock and he squeezed himself tighter, stroking a littler harder. 'Your pussy where it belongs! or your hand, your mouth, your tight little ass' He hit send but immediately started typing again, 'i'm gonna get in the shower and think about you on your knees though, think about tapping the end of this dick against your tongue, about your hand playing with me while you lick and suck on my balls. I'm gonna think about how good it feels when you gag on it, get it nice and sloppy' he hit send again taking a deep breath and stilling his right hand.

He could see the three little dots pop up but he hurried and typed one more message, fighting the urge to stroke himself. 'Then when I'm about to come I'm gonna imagine you bent over under the shower while i fuck you as hard as i can until we both cum'

Her three dots disappeared, reappeared and then disappeared again.

Finally a message came through, 'feel much better now, thank you! Love you, miss you, can't wait to have you and that dick home where you belong' with a winky face and a kissy face. He was almost annoyed until another text came through, this one a video, and he smiled.

He dropped his shorts to the floor, made sure the door was locked and took his phone into the shower with him.

~~~

She had just finished putting away the groceries when the sound of a motorcycle stopped her in her tracks.

Once upon a time the sound would have only been welcome, but now their world had changed. She listened closely as the bike pulled into the driveway and shut off. She was two steps down the hallway towards the gunbox in the bedroom when the front door opened.

"Hey mama."

She turned around slowly, her brain taking a moment to register who was standing in the doorway. As soon as she saw, was certain her mind wasn't playing tricks on her, she ran across the living room and jumped into Manny's arms.

"Manny! What are you doing here?" She all but squealed as she wrapped heself around him.

He took her easily, hoisting her up by her thighs and smiling as her legs wrapped around his waist. Her arms circled his neck and they were kissing before he even had a chance to answer. They were still standing by the front door and they couldn't pull apart for longer than a breath or two.

"I can't believe you're here." She whispered against his lips.

"Might have got in a little trouble," He brushed his lips over hers, "Canche told me time to come home." He kissed her again. "Didn't stick around to argue." Manny held her closer and kissed her again.

She sighed loudly as his grip tightend, "What kind of trouble exactly?"

Manny took a deep breath and pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, "Me and a couple of the Santo Padre boys, supposed to be takin' a guy across, put him down instead."

"Man-ny," She groaned disapprovingly.

"I know baby, I know." He dropped quick kiss on her lips and started walking further into the house, "But listen," He sucked at the hollow of her throat, "I'm home now yeah?" He nipped at her collar bone.

"Mhmm…" She scratched her nails over the back of his neck.

He carried her across the living room and into the hallway, "Tell me how bad you missed me mami." He nudged open the door to their room and carried her inside.

With a smile she tapped his shoulder twice and he obediently set her down. She grabbed hold of his kutte and pulled him down to her, "Missed you so much." She kissed him again, long and slow. "How bad did you miss me?"

Manny kissed her with a smile and stepped them both closer to the bed. "Get on the bed and I'll show you how bad I missed you."

Her fingers were on the buttons of his shirt in no time and Manny shrugged out of his kutte, dropping it on the floor. His hands immediately settled on her waist to guide her backwards. Dragging them up her sides he took her shirt up with him and his heart raced as she eagerly raised her arms to help. With one hand he tossed her shirt aside and with the other he slid up her back, splayed wide, to undo the clasp of her bra. Manny again took her waist and lifted her back onto the bed, laying her sideways across it.

He stared openly and was thrilled to see the flush creep over her skin. Manny bit his lip and leaned with one knee on the bed as he popped the button on her jeans and slowly lowered the zipper. He leaned over her and kissed her softly, teasing, his hands moving to turn her over onto her stomach as he leaned back.

For a moment his full attention shifted to focus only on pulling her jeans down, slow but deliberate. Savoring every inch as it was exposed. The tight denim revealing her perfect ass as he pulled them down, moaning at the way it moved and jiggled, and off of her long beautiful legs.

Once she was completely naked Manny stepped back and admired his wife. She rolled over slightly, one hand toying with the necklace at her throat and one leg bent just enough to cover her womanhood.

"You are so fucking gorgeous baby… " Manny's eyes were heavy and dark and he slowly swept his tongue over his top lip.

She smiled, giggled silently, as she reached out with her foot and poked him in the stomach, "I wanna see."

Manny still stood by their bed mostly dressed, only the top four or five buttons of his shirt had been undone. With a predatory smirk he carefully grabbed the foot and picked it up high, rubbing his thumb over the sole of her foot as he placed soft, teasing kisses against her ankle. "What you wanna see?" He lowered her foot back to the bed, fingers brushing up and down the side of her calf.

"Take your shirt off." If her smile before had been cute this one was sultry.

His fingers went to work first undoing the cuffs of each sleeve before moving to the remaining buttons down the front. Manny held her gaze the entire time and neither of them looked away. He knew she liked what she saw, her teeth were sunk into her bottom lip, as he shrugged the shirt off and dropped it to the floor behind him.

She crawled up on to her knees and kissed him, almsot the same height as she knelt on the raised bed. "These too." She mumbled against his lips as she tugged at the waistband of his jeans.

Manny kissed across her cheekbone, up her neck and sucked her earlobe between his lips before he spoke against her ear, "Go ahead." He immediately groaned as he felt her nails drag down his chest, over his stomach, and start on the buckle of his belt. His hands settled softly on her hips as he looked down and watched her hands undo his belt and the fly of his jeans, then hook in the waistband of his boxers to tug them down. Only far enough for her to reach in and pull him out.

He was rock hard and twitching in her hand as she stroked his cock from base to tip. Manny let out a shuddered breath, the sight and feel of her hand on him finally instead of his own set his nerves on fire.

Her grip tightened, "Does that feel good?" She scratched the nails of her other hand over his abs and he shuddered again.

"So fucking good." He tipped her face up to his again and kissed her like he had at the door. "Lay back." He gave her a careful push and immediately kicked out of his boots and shoved his jeans the rest the way off. His eyes locked on her as she plopped back on the bed again.

He climbed on the bed and kissed his way up her thigh.

She groaned, her hand digging into his shoulder, "Later papi"

Manny shook his head, "nuh uh." and licked a long, deep swipe the length of her pussy and over her clit.

When she arched up off the bed and moaned he nearly growled, clamping his hands on her hips and devouring her.

It felt like no time at all when she began to tremble, but it had been long enough that his neck hurt and his jaw was sore.

"Fuck, Manny, Manny…"She moaned again, "Shit! I'm gonna…"

"I know mamI," he slid two long fingers inside her and he dropped his lips over her clit. "Cum for me." He mumbled against her before flicking his tongue over her clit until she let out a high pitched strangled moan and clamped her legs tight against his head. Manny continued to stroke her through it until her grip loosened. He kissed the inside of her thigh, the tattoo on her hip, the space between her breasts before finally reaching her lips.

She was still panting and her eyes were still closed but her hands settled on his back. "God I missed that."

"Yeah?" Manny kissed the side of her neck. "How about these hands? You miss them too?" He slid the hand not holding his weight up her leg, over her ass, pulling back to give it a swat before moving up her ribs and groping her breast.

"Mhmm." She writhed under him, trying to get closer.

Ego running rampant Manny nudged the tip of his cock against her clit, "How about this dick? " He rocked against her again, just barely grazing her swollen clit, "You miss it as much as I missed this pussy?" With that he tilted his hips and slid as deep as he could with the first stroke.

Both of them groaned and moaned, hands grabbing at each other, as he pulled back and slid deeper and worked her open. When she was finally able to take all of him he rocked into her until he bottomed out and stayed there. She whined and canted her hips trying to get even more.

"You feel so fucking good mama." He began moving again, slow, steady, powerful thrusts that had them both gasping and moaning. Soon enough he was slamming into her over and over, "I missed you so much." His voice was strained with effort. He sped up even more, the bed shaking, slamming into the wall.

Suddenly her face changed and she began to push back, "Manny wait." She was quiet and breathless, "Wait, not yet."

Manny groaned but stopped, "What? What, why you stoppin' me?" His brow was furrowed and his muscles tense.

"Not yet," She took a ragged breath, "don't want it to be over yet."

After a heartbeat Manny laughed, "Don't scare me like that baby." He took a deep breath, "Shit." Slowly he began moving again. Slower, gentler thrusts, his pelvic bone grinding against her clit with each stroke. "It's okay." He kissed her cheek, "It's been a long four months, but I ain't gonna blow it yet." He kissed her other cheek, smiling when she sighed and relaxed beneath him. "Just want to make you feel good." He snapped his hips once. "Wanna see that beautiful face you make when you cum," Another harder thrust. "Hear the way you moan, and whine all breathless and shit." He began to speed up again, fucking her roughly again, "Wanna feel that pussy choke the life out this dick."

His wife moaned again, her nails clawing at his back as she began to meet his thrusts eagerly.

"Is that okay mami?" He kissed her.

It was rough and clumsy but she loved it, "Mhmm."

Manny smiled and grabbed her ass tilting her hips just right, "You know I'm going to give you more than one anyway right mami?"

With a high pitched whine she nodded, and cried out as he ducked his head to suck on her nipple, fucking her just as hard and fast as befoe. This time, not stopping until her back arched off the bed and her inner muscles clamped down on him as she came.

"That's my good girl." He murmured over and over into her ear as she came down from her second orgasm. Manny kissed her slowly and held her close to him until he felt her sigh deeply and relax back into the bed. "Fucking perfect." He stroked his hand over her thigh and waist, up her arm to take her hand. Interlacing his fingers with hers before stretching her arm up above her head. "I've been imagining this for months…" He rocked his hips again, slow and shallow, "How good it was gonna be to fuck you after so long."

Beneath him she was smiling but her eyes were still closed, her hand squeezed his before she raised her other arm above her head in a languid stretch. Her smile changed as she hooked one leg over his back, letting him thrust into her casually, "You're very talkative today aren't you?"

Manny scoffed and snapped his hips into her once, rocking her back into the pillows and taking her breath away for a second. "You love this dirty ass mouth of mine mama, don't play." He sped up his thrusts slightly, aiming to hit her in just the right spot. With his lips brushing against hers, still with a naughty smile, he whispered, "We both know that's what's been gettin' you off for the last four months."

"Well…" She bit her lip and locked eyes with her husband, "It helped at least."

He snapped his hips again as they both laughed and kissed for a long moment.

They were both panting when they pulled apart and Manny smiled when she put her hands on his chest and pushed. He took her direction and rolled over to his back, taking her with him.

With a smile on her face and her hair a mess she straddled his hips and slid herself back over his cock until their hips were flush and he was even deeper inside her than before. She watched as his eyes rolled back and he threw his head back, mouth open in pleasure. Slowly rolling her hips she told him, "Glad to have the real thing though, so much better."

Beneath her Manny moaned and gripped her thighs tight enough to leave a mark. Opening his eyes finally he took in the sight of her and chewed on his lip, "Go ahead and use it mama, lemme see you get yourself off."

"Yeah?" She smiled and rolled her hips the opposite direction.

Manny nodded and smacked her ass, "Mhmmm."

She groaned in pleasure and giggled as she took his hands and held them above his head. Using the angle to rub her clit against him as she rocked her hips.

Whole body tense Manny mumbled under this breath, "de puta madre…" and rose his hips up to meet hers, "Ride that dick."

It didn't take long, only moment until she brought herself to orgasm; gasping for breath and digging grooves in the back of Manny's hands. He surged up and caught her around the waist, kissing her so hard their teeth knocked together as he enjoyed the way her pussy fluttered around him. Never pulling apart he laid them back down and continued their kissing, his hands on her ass while her arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

"Shit," she fought to catch her breath, "I have to tell you something."

"Tell me what?" Manny murmured into her neck.

Without warning she sat up, still firmly impaled on his now pulsing, twitching hard on. Her hands braced flat on his chest she looked him in the eyes and took a deep breath. "I stopped taking my birth control…"

There was a long silence as Manny stared back at her, his sex muddled brain trying to catch up. "You did?"

She nodded.

His mind started to race. His heart pounding in his chest for a new reason. "You stopped?" When she nodded, chewing her lip uncertainly, he began to smile. "When?"

"Almost three months ago."

"You're serious?" His hands gripped her waist tightly, scared to let go, and she continued to nod. "You're sure?" He felt hope rise up in his chest, "You're sure? You talked to your doctor and all that."

"Mhmm." She was smiling now too, "She said I'm healthy and in great shape, still relatively young…So if we want to…"

All he could do was stare at her in awe, "So you do want to?"

With a slight laugh she nodded again, "I'm a little scared…" They both glanced down to the scar across her lower abdomen. Manny traced his thumb softly over the slightly raised white line. "But, I couldn't stop thinking about it after we talked and then you had to leave but… but yeah… I want another baby."

Manny sat up and wrapped his arms around his wife, holding her tight as he kissed her, "I'm so fucking happy right now!" He flipped them over again, laying her down under him as they continued to kiss.

"I can see that." She mumbled against his lips, both of them smiling.

He slowed down long enough to rest his forehead against hers, "When was your period?"

She rolled her eyes, but answered with a smile, "Last week."

"Mmmm," Manny hummed as he began to rock his hips once again, "Perfect timing." He kissed her once.

Another eye roll, "Maybe." but she lightly drug her nails down his side and dug them into the back of his thigh. Gasping when he jerked his hips forward in response. "One way to find out."

How was he supposed to control himself when she looked at him like that? When she had her nails digging into him like that and kept squeezing her inner muscles around his cock. Manny growled and hooked one of his elbows under her knee and bending her as far as she would go. It opened her up to him even more and he felt himself sink just a little deeper, "What you want mama?" He picked up his thrusting again and bit his lip as he watched her eyes spin back, "You want me to fuck you, make you cum one more time?"

Her, "Yes." Was followed by a moan.

Manny sped up more, pounding into her harder and deeper, "Yeah? You want me to cum with you?"

All she could do was nod, cling to him as she trembled underneath him. So close to coming apart for him again.

That tingling sensation had set in at the base of his spine and Manny buried his face in her neck, "Are you ready baby? Hmm? Can i cum in this pussy? Please, can I fill you up? Yeah? Cum for me baby, cum for papi."

Once she had started chanting out yes after yes she couldn't stop. Her vision blurred and every nerve in her body lit up like fireworks. She was still trying to catch her breath when she felt Manny's arms lock tight around her and his hips snap into her uncontrollably as he gasped and moaned directly in her ear. With her eyes closed, panting, she trailed her fingers over his sides and enjoyed the way his whole body shuddered. How he drove himself impossibly deeper as he gave her everything he had.

Eventually his grip on her loosened and she felt the press of his lips against her neck. He kissed his way up the column of her neck to her ear as he gave a few final thrusts, finally coming face to face with her again. Kissing her sloppily and deeply before whispering against her lips, "I love you so fucking much."

Without pause she answered back, "Me too baby, so much." "

~~~

What time is it?"

Her voice was muffled against his chest and Manny moved carefully, craning his neck to look at the alarm clock on the dresser. "Quarter after three." He settled back down, enjoying the after sex high and the feel of his wife naked and sated, draped over him.

"Bella get's out at 3:30." She shuffled a little but made no move to get up.

Manny squeezed her tight with the arm around her waist, patted her lightly on the ass, "Was thinkin' I could go pick up her up oln the bike."

She smiled and kissed a corner of the tattoo on his chest, "She is gonna lose her mind when she see's you."

He chuckled, "Like mama like daughter yeah?" T

hat earned him a pinch to his hip and a, "Callate pendejo."

With a big smile on his face Manny shook his head, "God, it's good to be home." He stroked his wife's bare back, still smiling, and kissed the top of her head. "You get any meat at the store?"

"Mhmm." She didn't even question the sudden change in topic.

"How about you do that real good marinade quick while I go pick up our girl?" He looked down to see her nodding, "When we get back I'll get the grill goin', make some carne asada. We can do it up tonight, the three of us."

With a deep sigh she wrapped her arms around him tight, "Sounds good to me. You better get your ass in the shower though."

"Wanna come?"

"Nope, I'm staying right here till you are a safe distance away." She pushed and shoved at him as he crawled off the bed.

Manny laughed and gave her a kiss and another little swat to the butt, "Legs still shakin' a little?"

"Maybe. Thank you very much." She rolled away from him and buried her face in his pillow, "Shower, now, go."

He made his way around the bed with a smile on his face and his own legs a little unsteady.

Manny stopped and grabbed his dirty clothes, throwing them towards the hamper and set his boots by the door. His mind was filled with thoughts of his wife, his daughter, their next baby... he was going to be a Dad again! He thought of how amazing his wife looked pregnant and how strong she had been the first time. How he had instantly fallen in love with his daughter and how he'd fallen impossibly more in love with his wife. Now, it might be awhile, but they were doing it again. This time a little older and a little wiser.

When he picked his kutte up off the floor he barely even looked at it as he tossed it towards the chair in the corner, happy to set it aside for awhile. Happy to be home with his girls where he belonged.

~~~

Part Two is now available!!

[steinfellds]

Pro Builder

Pairing: Mom!WandaNat x Child!Reader

Summary: You finally finish your Lego set that took you three days to build but when you show your moms they don't pay you any attention.

1.1K words

/ masterlist / / w.n masterlist /

You had been building a blue Lego car - which was a gift given to you from Tony - for the last three days and you were finally, finally about to put the last piece on it.

You carefully placed the lego brick that created the backlights on the back of the car and a massive grin spread across your face as you heard it click. After three long days, you had finished!

You eagerly looked around your room, half expecting your moms to barge in and congratulate you on finishing it. But they didn't.

You stood up from your desk and carefully picked your car up, terrified you would accidentally drop it and cause it to smash apart.

You quickly walked down the hallways of your house towards the living room where you thought Wanda might be curled up reading a book but frowned when you entered. She wasn't in there.

"Mommy?" You called out. You knew your moms were home, you had heard them talking to each other not even an hour ago. Plus they wouldn't have left the house without telling you they were leaving and giving you a lecture on not to open the door if you hear a knock.

You walked around the house in confusion to where your moms were until the smell hit your nose. It smelt like a burning cake. You walked into the kitchen and saw Wanda fanning a very burnt cake with her hands. A timer from the oven went off behind her and she let out a frustrated groan.

You walked up behind your mom - who was bending down to open the oven - and pulled on the sweater she was wearing. Wanda let out a high-pitched yelp and turned around to face you with an upset frown on her face.

"Y/n! What did I tell you about sneaking up on me?" She muttered, turning away from you so she could grab the cupcakes out of the oven. "Curse Natasha for having you inherit her silent footsteps."

Wanda turned over to the counter and placed the cupcakes on it. You followed behind her and went to tell her to look at your lego but she walked backwards and accidentally walked into you. Your lego car flew out of your hands before you could stop it. You quickly closed your eyes so you wouldn't have to watch your lego shatter apart.

"Y/n! God, I love you but please leave mommy alone for a bit," When you opened your eyes, your car was hovering in the air with red mists wrapped out it.

Natasha walked into the kitchen with heavy footsteps. "Wanda, have you finished that thing Maria asked for? She needs it for her meeting in a couple hours."

Wanda groaned and slapped her forehead lightly. "No, I haven't. Could you please do it? I'm about three seconds away from burning the kitchen down."

You grabbed the lego car out of mid-air and walked over to your mama.

"Mama, mama, mama, ma-" You called her name and started tugging continuously at her shirt.

"Y/n, stop," Natasha pulled your hand off her shirt "Your lego looks great, baby, but I'm just a bit busy at the moment."

You pouted but stopped tugging at her shirt. "I wanna show you how it works, mama."

"No, I can't. I already have some other things to work on and I'll need to drive Y/n to their karate lessons in 3 hours so please just work on it soon," Natasha ignored you and continued talking to her wife who was currently putting the burnt cake in the bin.

You narrowed your eyes at Natasha. She never ignores you, why is she ignoring you now?

"Mama, mommy. Look at my lego," You whined. You hated when people ignored you, especially your mothers.

"No!" Wanda and Natasha both raised their voices at the same time with annoyance.

Tears quickly flooded your eyes. You hated when people yelled at you. You quickly adverted your eyes to look at the ground and ran off to your room, slamming the door behind you. You placed your lego on your desk and pushed your toy box against the door. Natasha had taken the lock off your door years ago so the only way you could try to keep your moms out was by blocking the door with your toy box.

You ran onto your bed and pulled the covers up and over your head. You started to cry softly. Did your moms not love you anymore? Was that why they were ignoring you? What did you do to make them hate you?

You started to convince yourself that your moms really did hate you and it caused your cries to get louder.

You were too cooped up in your horrible thoughts that you didn't notice that Wanda had moved the toy box to the side with her powers and Natasha had opened the door.

Wanda and Natasha hadn't noticed you had left the kitchen until Wanda had heard your thoughts coming from your bedroom. Immediately the two mothers ran towards your room. They didn't want their child ever thinking that they hated them.

Wanda kneeled next to the bed and rubbed your back in an attempt to soothe you with her hand. "Hey, sweetheart, look at mommy."

You shook your head and let out a choked sob. "N-no, you 'ate me." You let out a hiccup mid-sentence.

Wanda and Natasha's hearts broke at your words.

Natasha was standing at the end of your bed. She wasn't sure how to deal with a crying child and was honestly on the verge of tears herself at the sight of you crying.

"We love you, Y/n. Can you please look at me so I can see that pretty face of yours?" Wanda asked pulling the covers off your head slightly so she could see the back of your head.

"But you ignored me when I was trying to show you- you my lego," You sniffled out, trying to control your cries so your words wouldn't sound like a complete mess.

"We're sorry, detka. We were just very stressed but we'd love to see your lego now if that's okay with you?" Wanda asked softly, not expecting you to want to show them anymore.

Though you surprised her when you shot up from your bed and grab your lego off the desk. You patted the top of your bed to tell Wanda that you wanted to lay against her chest and after you had both gotten comfortable you patted the spot in front of you so your other mom could sit near you.

When Natasha sat down, you started showing them all the cool things you could do with your car and drove the car on Wanda's arms that were wrapped around you and her legs to show them how fast it went.

Your mood swing definitely confused your moms but you were just glad they wanted to see your lego.

[mavians-harem]

Side Case: Prey vs Predator

Find the full story on Archive of Our Own (https://archiveofourown.org/works/38058088)

"I deserve a raise for this."

Your grumble was lost to the masses as your arms wrapped around Sugiura’s neck, his lean body tense against yours in a shameless embrace. There was a stutter in your chest when you felt his hands finding purchase on your back, pulling you securely against him, although you couldn’t say with certainty whether it had come from your heart or his.

Then again, it could also just have been the effect of the booming bass drumming all around you, amplifying its vibrations through your bodily contact. Either way, you felt warmth spread in your cheeks, for once thankful that nightclub’s had a tendency to be sparsely lit.

The one you found yourself in at the moment was very particular about its lighting. Hues of red and pink illuminated the dark, glass ornaments in the shape of water droplets hung from the ceiling above the dancefloor, breaking and reflecting the light, littering the room with light pink splashes of colour. From personal experience of nights out on the town during your college years, you could safely say that this was one of the nicer clubs you’d frequented, even if the amount of pink slightly made your eyes hurt.

Even bigger was the relief that you were currently facing away from the light show. Sugiura and you had found yourselves a hiding spot just a little ways away from the partying main crowd. It was the hallway leading to the toilets where you’d decided to take cover, considering it was mostly shrouded in darkness apart from an exit sign, backlighting Sugiura in a poisonous green glow. People passed you by, oblivious to your presence, just another couple enjoying a bit of peace and quiet in this hectic and most of all loud environment.

You had thought that your initial complaint had been swallowed by the noise but Sugiura’s hot breath hitting your exposed shoulder in a scoff told you otherwise.

"You and me both. I hate clubs."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. I'll treat you to the finest ramen in town when this is over. How about that?" The distorted crackle of Yagami's voice coming from an earpiece in Sugiura’s ear barely carried over to you through the multitude of sounds. You moved your head closer, catching the next sentence a bit clearer.

"Do you see him?"

Despite having your back turned to the crowd, you immediately perked up at Yagami’s question. Staying glued to Sugiura’s front, you craned your neck as best you could until human shapes appeared in the corner of your vision. Attentively, your gaze swept across the room, scanning faces in quick succession; a nearly impossible task in this lighting and considering how packed the club was. People were bouncing to the music, their heads – more or less rhythmically – swinging from side to side, faces morphed with the shadows, obstructing your view.

Feeling your neck cramp up, you returned your head facing toward the exit sign away from the crowd. Sugiura's bleached hair tickled your cheek.

"What's he look like again?"

Before you could answer him, Kaito's gruff voice rang out over the earpiece, "Like a smug asshole."

"Very insightful, Kaito-san", you commented, unable to hide a smile at the obvious disdain in his tone.

"Please, focus", Higashi, ever the voice of reason, cut in before Kaito could fire some stupid line back at you. "He should be easy enough to spot thanks to the-"

*

“- incredibly ridiculous hairstyle.”

Yagami finished his assessment of the target’s photo which had just been sent to his phone by the most recent client. His brows were set in an amused frown as the corners of his lips twitched in a futile attempt to hold in a derisive grin. He set his smartphone down on the table, spinning it around for you and the rest of the Yagami Detective Agency to take a closer look at.

“Do chicks nowadays really dig this kinda guy?” Kaito playfully nudged your shoulder with a large fist, the sudden force slightly rocking your body to the side. You quickly caught yourself, raising an eyebrow and shooting him a side-eyed glare. You shrugged.

“Not exactly my type, but I guess I get the appeal.”

[xhanisai]

art trademark: Your line art looks so soft! Especially when the backlight is added! And the particular shade of red you sometimes use to accent the b and w but most importantly how your chibi lovesquare look so round and squishy and holdable dkshjs

Ooooo I haven’t noticed the softness! A few years ago, I was told that my line work was very sharp so it’s interesting to see how it has softened up lmao. Must be concept art practices I did for university.

Remind me to draw more Chibi lovesquare cos they’re so fucking fun to draw! If sewing machines didn’t hate me, I’d have loved to have made my own plushes of the design hahaha!

[lost-eternity]

@dreaming-about-starfleet

Do you like Marvel? I wrote this thing a while back so this is a repost but I was kinda hoping you would offer feedback writer to writer?

Control -Loki x Reader- ONESHOT

This is a Loki x Reader one-shot where the reader is a psychologist.

~

TW: self-harm, and certain mental illnesses. 

SONG FIC: Control by Halsey

His eyes are blue. 

     Touched by ethereal storm clouds, as cold as a tumultuous sea. Eyes that sing of empty promises and pretty lies, an infamously alluring gaze that drags you fathoms below their icy depths. Eyes that leave you to drown there, writhing in your misplaced trust. You had never seen any emotion in them other than contempt. But at that time, they had burned with the passion of a roaring flame. Uncontrolled in their path of desecration, consuming all they touch in the twin flames of hate. 

     His eyes still haunted you, plaguing your dreams like a wretched banshee caterwauling into the night; calling out for your demise. And yes, they would be your demise. It didn’t take much intellect to figure that out. Despite all of the flashing signs, the warnings- you couldn’t help but feel drawn in. The fog behind that cerulean gaze concealed a mystery of a man with motives and morals all to his own. A man that equal parts thrills and scares you, and ultimately beckons you deeper into his sea. Honey-filled words coat your instincts, cajoling you further into a diminished stupor. It is a sour lesson to swallow but invaluable nonetheless; sweetest tongue has sharpest tooth. 

        “Doctor!” Stark’s gravely tone shook you from your apparent languor and silenced your mental musings. Lifting your chin up, you found yourself once again revisiting your surroundings. You were positioned at a metal table, spread before you were the remnants of the sandwich you had been eating for lunch. Although it appeared you were the last one to finish. With the exception of Tony Stark, the rest of the cafeteria was devoid of S.H.I.E.L.D agents. Stark loomed above you, wearing an incredulous expression upon his insufferably smug brow. 

“Tin-man.” You greeted him with a flat tone, gazing down at your rather unappealing sandwich. “Have you finally found your heart?”

“Ha-ha,” Tony remarked callously in response to your pun, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Fury wants to see you, Doc.” 

You bowed your head, staring impassively at your hands. “I’ve told you. Just call me Y/n.”

A smirk tugged the edges of Tony’s mouth upwards. “But you’re a doctor.” Although his tone conveyed reminiscence, you knew it was just a guise for the triumph. 

“Of psychology,“ you scoffed, now unable to hide your amusement. “We both know I am not a real doctor.” 

Tony only chuckled at your disdained tone. With a grandiose swooping gesture of his hands, Stark dipped his head in mockery. “As you say, Y/n.”

        You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you rose to your feet. Your sandwich remained neglected upon the cold metal table whilst you brushed out your immaculate white lab coat. While it was true you didn’t consider yourself a real doctor, you spent a good chunk of your time in the lab with Bruce. Of course, the man’s got a stick up his ass, as Tony likes to say, and only seems to care about safety precautions and lab etiquette. Hence the lab coat. You ducked past Tony, smirking to yourself. You knew that Bruce would blow his top if he found out that you had been eating food in his spare lab coat. 

Pausing mid-stride, you twisted your head around to appraise Stark. He was lingering behind, leaning smugly against the table, his head tilted to one side. 

“You coming?” You cooed, folding your arms over your chest.

“To talk to Fury? Nu-huh. The man sounded pissed enough as is.” 

That dulled the playful mirth in your gaze. “Pissed?” You echoed then sighed for what felt like the thousandth time that day. “Good to know.” Swinging around, you scrambled at a brisk pace down the hall. Nicholas Fury was a terrifying man with a sharp stare and equally sharp tongue. You did not want to contribute to his current moodlet by being tardy.

        As you hurried down the hallway you found yourself plunging deeper into your own thoughts, caught up in a tidal wave of passing fancies. You had learnt to embrace the wind of your mind, like a brief gust before returning to a calm sea. 

        Your ideas drifted back to the conversation you just had with Tony. You recounted his posture, the way he tensely held his shoulders, forcing them upright. How he inclined his head towards you, but still unable to meet your eye. You knew that something was on his mind, and you were tempted to inquire about it once Fury dismissed you… and after you have spoken with him.

Stark liked to fancy himself an anomaly. He would strut around wearing a dazzling smile and an aloof attitude. He used his biting wit and sarcastic remarks as a mask of which to hide behind. All his life he had been treated coldly, expected to depend on only himself and to discount others. This had lead to a vicious cycle of self-dependent cynicism. You recognised this tendency the moment you first met him all those months ago. You had tried to break it, you introduced him to cognitive therapy, to journaling, painting and other methods of self-expression. However, the man had proven himself to be quite stubborn and dismissed you. He rejected your outstretched hand in favour of a bottle of scotch whilst proclaiming: "I’m hungry. Where’s the scotch?”

        You knew that Stark’s alcohol dependency was a coping mechanism for some form of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. You hadn’t been around long enough to figure out what stemmed this, but you figured that it was a culmination of many different elements. The others weren’t of much help and you eventually learnt not to ask questions. Instead, you could only be a bystander to Tony’s self-destructive habits as he continuously searched for the solution to his problems at the bottom of an empty glass. You knew that you couldn’t help him. Not unless he wanted to be helped. And as mentioned earlier, Tony only helps himself. 

        You pulled yourself from your thoughts as you arrived at an unmarked door. Gathering your sense of courage you reached out, placing your fingertips upon the metallic surface of a recently polished door handle. You must have been shuffling your feet because the contact sent an electric charge crackling through your fingertips and raising the hair along your arm. Taking in a final breath, you flicked your wrist and the door swung open.

        The room itself was sparsely decorated. Beams of light interrupted by the blinds along the windows poured into the otherwise darkened chamber. They illuminated swirls of dust, twisting together in some erratic and tumultuous dance.  All furniture had been pushed off towards the sides, opening a central area where the man himself stood. Nick Fury, looking as intimidating as ever. Fortunately, his back was to you, and his glowering stare directed towards one of the windows. You weren’t certain, but you could have sworn that he was idly following the path of one of the floating dust particles as it drifted across the room. Clearing your throat, you announced your presence. A heavy silence fell between the two of you. 

        You were the first to break. “Are you trying to intimidate me?”

There was another pause, causing an empty feeling to open up in the pit of your stomach. It brought you back to your grade school years, trepidatiously lingering in the principal's office and fidgeting under his cold stare.  Had you said something wrong? Were you in trouble? Fury’s shoulder spasmed slightly, it took you a few seconds to realise that he was laughing. “Is it working?” He asked.

“Uh. Yes.” You admitted, making your way over to one of the disregarded chairs. You straddled the chair, leaning your chest and arms against the backboard. “I suppose that is why you’re standing in a semi-empty room with the lights turned off.” A nervous chuckle slipped past your lips. “You, uh, wanted to see me, er, sir?” 

“I did.” Fury, at last, turned around to face you. Shadows clustered along his jaw and nose as the byproduct of the backlighting from the closed windows. 

        You leaned slightly back in your chair. You would not ever be able to quite get used to the threatening eye patch he wore to cover his lost eye. He never talked about how he lost it, and you never were foolish enough to ask. It was probably a traumatising tale, and you knew better than to dig up long-buried memories (if only you knew the truth about the cat named Goose). 

“You’ve been spending an awful lot of time with him, Miss Y/n. Why don’t you tell me how that is going for you.” With a dramatised grunt, Fury sat down across from you.

“Uh. What do you mean, sir?” You blinked, quickly withdrawing. Your boisterousness from earlier dropped in the presence of your superiors. You enjoyed your job as the therapist for the Avengers, you weren’t about to lose it. 

A contemplative sigh fell from Fury’s lips. “Loki. You keep informing me that you are progressing with our… special guest, and yet I see no evidence as such.”

        A look of bewilderment clouded your face. You stitched your eyebrows together, curling your hands into a fist by your sides. Loki, the Asgardian self-proclaimed god was quite an aberration. Perhaps it was because you were attempting to define an alien’s psychology in human terms. Or because his mind functioned differently than a human’s. Regardless of the reason, it simply wasn’t working. You had everyone else on the team figured out, even Director Fury himself. But Loki? The man posed a mystery. A convoluted figure who wrapped himself in shrouds, hiding his motives behind complex word puzzles and mind games. It called to you, drawing you in, challenging you. Taunting you. 

        Over the past few months, you have had many sessions with him, each one bringing you closer to cracking him. Each breakthrough sent a wave of euphoria coursing through your veins, and you began to truly understand him. This god… this eternal being. You understood him in a way no one else did. And he understood you. You could see it in his eyes, the way he ever so slightly perks up when you entered the room. How loosely he speaks with you now. He doesn’t speak with anyone else that way. Just you.

Only you. 

“I am so close, sir.” You reported, schooling your features into an expression of apathy despite the stirrings you felt in your heart. “I just need more time.”

“Time? We’ve given you plenty of time.” Fury remarked, stiffly crossing his arms. “Now we need results. Elsewise we might have to terminate your little experiment.” 

You couldn’t help the emotion rising to your voice. “No! I can help him. I swear. I can change him. He is salvageable. He is just… wounded.”

“You can’t save every wounded creature you find on the roadside, Miss Y/n.” The Director consoled her despite the graveness of his tone. “To even try would be an exhaust on our resources and personnel.” 

“I can save this one.” You stated firmly, your tone unwavering. “I am not going to give up on him.” 

Director Fury met your unfaltering gaze, scrutinising it for any possible hint of doubt. He finally sighed in resignation, shoulders slouching slightly. “Very well. You get one more session. And if you don’t have any intel for us by then, we are pulling the plug.”

“Yes, sir.” You crumbled forward, relief resting heavily on your back. “Thank you, sir.”

“It’s best to be off now. You’re on the clock.”  Fury drawled in a taunting tone.

Quickly springing to your feet, you inclined your head towards Fury in a brief nod before scrambling off down the hall.

        Loki’s holding cell was deep under the facility. It boasted an impressive array of mechanisms to ensure his complacency and idleness. The original design was intended for the Hulk in case he ever lost control within the walls of S.H.I.E.L.D. Loki had taken up residence shortly prior to its construction and was moved there on orders from Agent Coulson. After a few failed escape attempts, Loki seemed uncharacteristically docile. This was when Fury had ordered you to begin sessions with the Asgardian due to your background in psychology. Fury wanted to know anything that could be used against him, but you, instead, wanted to try and save him from his inner demons. 

        From the first moment you laid eyes on him, you recognised his tortured soul. From the information Thor had provided you, you sympathised with the god of mischief. Kings have a tendency to cast a long shadow, plunging anyone underneath them into unrecognised darkness. And Loki didn’t want to be complacent in life only to die forgotten. A sentiment to which you deeply relate. 

        Pressing your identification card up against the smooth surface of the scanner you watched as the heavy-set doors slid open before you. You stepped into a large rectangular room. In its centre stood a large glass tube, reinforced with some science whoo-haa you did not quite understand. 

        He sat on the floor, his hair immaculately slicked back as always. Obsidian curls covered his shoulder, outlining his sculpted face like an experienced artist’s masterful brushstrokes. Those piercing cerulean eyes passively gazing towards you, his expression unreadable. 

Your raven-haired prince.

“You’re unusually quiet.” You remarked as you stepped towards his enclosure. You took a seat in the padded armchair left for your comfort, crossing your legs neatly. 

“What do you want me to say?” Came the croaked response after a moment of hesitation. “You sit there, gawking at me from outside my cage. Like I am a zoo animal here for your entertainment. I am a god. You should be my monkey.” 

His sharp tone caught you by surprise. You redirected your attention towards him, lifting your chin slightly. “Is that really what you think?”

“You don’t deny it.” This time, he did not miss a single beat. 

“Ah.” A ghost of a smile appeared on your face. “I see now.”

Loki’s carefully crafted smirk faltered, his brows knitting together in a perplexed expression.

"You want me to be your "monkey". Your pet. Something you can keep on a leash. A creature whose life and decisions you have complete control over. Is that right?" A satisfied smirk curled your lip.

Loki gave no response.

“This is about control.” You continued matter-of-factly. “That is what your domineering display on Earth was. A last-ditch effort for control.”

The smirk died on his lips. He turned his head away and scoffed. “Like you can understand me.”

“You really are quite simple, though.” You couldn’t resist the urge to speak in a haughty tone as you picked yourself up from the couch. “Ooh, yes. I definitely have it now. All your life you have been cast to the side lines. The people around you making your decisions for you. What you should eat, where you should sleep, who you should communicate with. As such are the duties of a prince. But in the end… you don’t even get to control who ascends to the throne. It is Thor. It was always Thor. You were just a ploy, a desperate grab for peace in a time of war. So they disregarded you. They sent you away to find them a fortune. Because in the end, you were just a pawn in their games.” 

“Shut up.” Loki’s lips curled back in a menacing sneer. “You don’t know anything!”

“Aggression is a method of deflection.” You remarked as you slowly paced your way around the glass. His eyes followed your movement, poised like a cat waiting to strike. You continued, undismayed. “That’s why you came here, huh? You needed an outlet. Someone to exercise complete control over. And it felt good, didn’t it? Gaining the one thing that you have been deprived of all these years. But then it was all taken from you. And now you’re here, helpless and without any control. And it’s driving you mad. Tell me, Loki, who is in control?”

No response.

Provoked, you asked again, your voice louder this time. “Who is in control?”

“I said, shut up!” Loki barked, the entire room within the glass confines flickered momentarily. 

You took a step back. It was subtle, and if you were dealing with anyone else, you would have thought that it was a trick of the light. But this was Loki. Narrowing your eyes, you whirled around to face the deadpan god. “What did you do?”

If he realised he had been caught, he showed no sign of it. “How do you mean?” That self-assured smirk gradually worked his way back onto his face.

“Remove the illusion, Loki.” You breathed, pressing a palm against the glass.

“Are you sure of that request?” Loki drawled.

Your steely glare was the only answer he needed. Sighing, Loki lowered his gaze. His form flickered a few times before vanishing altogether and what you saw in his place caused you to draw in a shuddering breath.

        The food you had provided him that morning had been cast aside. The silver tray turned over and smears of blood mixed with cereal stained the glass walls. Loki himself appeared even worse. His pristine complexion was marred by a busted lip, crimson liquid split out of large gashes in his knuckles. His parts of his hair, caked with blood and mats he been ripped from his very scalp and lay forgotten across the stained tile floor. Loki, observing your shocked expression laughed dryly. “And now you see me.” He croaked hoarsely.

“What did you do to yourself?” Your question was spoken in a tone hardly above a whisper, causing your stomach to clench at the sight. 

You were left unanswered as Loki slid his gaze away, focusing it on his arm where a bead of blood trickled across his skin.

“You’re… hurting yourself.” You frowned as you gently placed your fingers against the glass. 

“Because of you,” Loki answered gruffly, still not returning your stare.

“Why?” You breathed, furrowing your brows together. 

“I hate you.” He nearly spat out the words, his shoulders heaving in the strain. “I hate your stupid face, I hate the way you dissect me like some rat. I hate your eyes. And I hate that I can’t get you out of my damn head! Why do you have to follow me in my dreams? Why can’t you just leave me alone?!” 

There was a heavy blanket of silence that settled between the two of you. A pressing and suffocating silence that muffled your thoughts. You felt speechless, the pressure of the tension felt nearly asphyxiating and sent your mind reeling. You were jostled from your stupor when you noticed the blood running from his wrists, delicate skin broken under the white-knuckle grip of his nails.

“Stop that.” You demanded in a hushed tone.

He didn’t reply.

“I said, stop it!” You snapped and quickly slammed your keycard against the side of the containment cell. The doors slid open and you rushed inside. You slammed Loki up against the wall and slid your slender fingers underneath his bloody ones. 

Panting heavily the two of you stared at each other, you with fear and him with contempt. Slowly, you came to realise his proximity and leaned back, turning away.

“Why… would you do that?” Loki rasped, his eyes narrowed.

“Because. You need help.” You replied, negating the waver in your tone as you gained enough courage to look back at him.

“What do you even care?” Loki retorted. “I’m a monster.” 

“I should be scared of you.” You phrased the statement more as a question, despite your situation, you couldn’t find it within you to be fearful.

Loki slowly looked up, his breath ghosting over your face as you two peered at each other. “Yes.” He replied shakily.

You leaned closer, your lips grazing against his. “Really?” You whispered softly.

        What ensued was a moment of indescribable elation. His lips met yours, they molded softly against you. His free hand trailed up your leg, snaking around your waist and tugging you against his chest. You could feel his heartbeat against your clavicle, a steady and slow rhythm that greatly juxtaposed your own racing heart.

How could he be so calm? 

        You didn’t have much time to ponder this when a sudden weight sent you flying off him and slamming into the glass wall behind you. Red hot pain spiked through your spine, causing your limbs and other extremities to prickle with the feeling of needles. It wasn’t long before Loki was on top of you, pinning you callously against the glass.

“Y-you’re hurting me.” You stammered as you squirmed, your arms feebly tapping against his back.

“Good.” Loki snarled, his breath ghosting over your ear. In a haze of golden light, the illusion melted away from Loki’s previously haggard form. Your heart caught in your throat as the bloodstains dissipated from the walls and Loki revealed his usual composed, pristine appearance.

You finally spoke, visible confusion painted across your face. “L-Loki?”

        The prince regarded you coldly, reaching into your pocket, he retrieved your keycard. The realisation dawned on you slightly too late. You opened your mouth, but the cry died in your throat as he clamped his hand over your mouth. Then he brought his lips against your ear. “You’re goddamn right, you should be scared of me.” Spinning on his heels, Loki stalked towards the exit. 

Making one last attempt to salvage the situation, you made a sprint towards Loki. 

        With one fluid movement, the Asgardian swiped your keycard against the control panel and the doors swung shut before you, trapping you inside the high-security chamber. 

“Hey!” You cried out, tears pricking the edges of your vision. You slammed your fist against the transparent casing. You battered against it over and over again until your knuckles blackened and each strike sent a bolt of pain jolting up your arm. 

        Still screaming his name, you watched Loki stroll towards the chamber exit, twirling your keycard along with his fingertips playfully. If he heard your shrieks, he paid no heed and merrily continued on his path. He paused by the elevator doors, punching in his desired floor number. With a tilt of his head, he slowly began to turn around, those blue eyes once again fixating onto you. A twisted smirk distorted his handsome features.

        You watched in horror as Loki’s form rippled. Without once breaking eye-contact he assumed your form. You found yourself glaring back at the man who stole your face, who was wearing your skin and flashing your smile. In a voice eerily similar to your own, Loki spoke one final time.

        “Who is in control?”

‘Dii-iing!’