#I never met such a caring priest as him in all my years

[angeltreasure]

Father from the other church sent me an email saying he misses me at Mass again (because I have been going to Mass with my parents at another one), which is funny in a way that he sent it the day after I told my mom hey I’m going to the other church this weekend. So I replied back but also hoping I can have time to talk to him about all that’s happened since the first time I was able to pull him aside and speak to him about discernment. I patiently wait for his reply, he cares a lot about his congregation and is a busy priest too (his mass starts in about an hour)! 😊

[exopelagic]

talking to him more very much achieved. we just talked for like 4 hours in the kitchen holy shit I need to sleep

[latenightdaydreams]

Family Planning (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List✍🏽

Part 2

>cw: fem/afab, pregnancy, cucking, p in v, religion, priest König

2.1k word count

⛪

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You’ve been married to your husband, Lucas, for four years now. Both of you are high school sweethearts. You never thought you’d have to seek counseling for the relationship. You nervously twiddle your thumbs as you sit outside your priest’s office, sitting next to your husband. Finally, the door opens and König’s eyes land on the two of you.

“Please, come in.” He stands at the door, waiting for you both to enter before he closes the door behind him. Once he sits down, he leans forward with a polite smile across his thin lips. “Mr. and Mrs. Altman. What brings you to me?”

There is a heavy tension in the room as you gaze over to Lucas. He sits with a finger pressing against his temple as he rests his arm on the armrest. It’s clear that he doesn’t want to be here, he doesn’t want to talk about this.

“Well, it’s…we’ve been having some issues lately.” You speak carefully, trying to not offend your husband. 

“What issues?” König gives a concerned look to your husband.

“Well, we’ve been trying to get pregnant for the last four years and nothing. I went to the doctor, and everything was fine with me…” You stop talking and drop your head down, knowing the topic upsets your husband.

“So, that means it’s you that can’t get her pregnant?” His eyes lock with your husbands.

“Yes…”

“And that makes you feel…” König was trying to get him to admit his feelings.

“Worthless.” Lucas says in a low voice. “As if I’m not a man.” You rest your hand on your husband's legs and rub it in a supporting way. 

“We’ve always wanted a family. Since we met as teens, we’ve planned on having kids. The issue is not only his sperm, but to have a child, it would be through unnatural means.”

König watches the shape of your mouth as you speak. He nods his head occasionally to make sure you know he is listening to you.           Once you finish explaining your moral stance against IVF, he finally speaks.

“It seems almost cruel that God would give such a strong, devoted couple as yourselves such a heavy cross to bear.” His blue eyes gaze into yours as he speaks. “I also agree, IVF is unnatural and goes against God's word. The Lord sees how you’ve both struggled, yet never even up on one another.”

Tears creep up in your eyes as Father validates every feeling you’ve had along your way so far. Instead of judgment, he is listening with care. 

“But have you considered… other options?”

“Like adoption?” Lucas asks.

“Hm, no. Just a simple sperm donation.” König leans back in his desk chair, his fingertips touching as he studies both of your reactions.

“But having seed spilled by a contraption…it isn’t of God.” Lucas speaks softly. He knows you’d have the beautiful family you have always dreamed of if it weren’t for him. Guilt floods his body.

“Not with any medical intervention.”

“Then…how?”

“I can offer you my seed, to impregnate you.” König says boldly.

“Excuse me?” There is a bit of anger in Lucas’s tone.

“Please do not misunderstand me. I am a man of God. I’ve given up all pleasures in life. I’m simply the vessel put here by the Lord to give you the family you both desire. Like God impregnated Mary, but Joseph raised Jesus as his own.”

You sit staring at Father König with your mouth slightly ajar. Like God did with Mary and Joseph… Those words you kept repeating in your head, and the more it started to make sense.

“But that’s adultery.” Lucas snapped.

“God let men impregnate another woman in the bible when their woman was barren. I don’t see the difference here. No romance, just God’s gift.” He smiles at the both of you, impressed with how gullible you both seem to be. 

“He has a point, honey.” Your hand continues to caress Lucas’s leg.

He looks into your eyes for a while, a heavy gaze of guilt on his own. Is he really about to allow his Priest to sleep with his wife? That would be crazy, right? It would result in a pregnancy, and you’ll be able to start the family you’ve always wanted. Both he and Father König are blonde blue eyed me, so it wouldn’t be too hard to hide.

“I- can we think about this?” You can hear the buildup of emotions in his voice.

“Of course, take all the time you need.” König suppresses a small smirk. 

Everyone stands and you go home with Lucas. The night you both stay all talking, arguing, crying, laughing; just every emotion hitting at once. This is a conversation you never saw yourselves having. All you’ve ever wanted is to be a mother, and now God has given you an answer.

.

.

You arrive outside of Father König’s home, fingers intertwined with Lucas’s. He hesitates before his knocks on the door finally. A few seconds later, König opens it, greeting you both with a warm smile. He is wearing his black pants and shirt with a Priest collar on.

“Bitte kommen Sie herein.” König steps aside to let you and Lucas come inside. 

The home is simple with crosses and imagery of Jesus and the Virgin Mary hanging on the walls. You both linger awkwardly, thumbs caressing one another’s hand. König closes and locks the door.

“Shall we.” He gestures for the both of you to follow him down a long hall. 

Turning into the last door on the left, he welcomes you in. There is a large king size bed with gray sheets and a blue comforter. A simple wooden cross with a bloody Jesus on the wall behind the bed. Your eyes linger on it for a while before turning your gaze towards Lucas. He is looking at the bed with a dejected look in his eyes. A heavy tension lingers in the air. 

“Y/n, you should undress.” König’s Austrian accent is smooth.

You nod and kick your shoes off before pulling off your sweater. Lucas took it for you, his eyes looking over your body as you slowly peeled away each layer. Both trying to avoid Father's gaze and only focus on each other. Once stripped of all your clothing, Lucas slips his hand back into yours. “You’ll be okay…” He whispers to you, pressing his lips to your forehead.

König takes your hand from your husbands, his icy blue eyes gazing down into yours. He walks to the bed, lifting you and gently laying you in the center of the bed. 

“Lucas, sit at the head of the bed. It’s important that you’re a part of this too.”

Lucas slowly kicks his shoes off and walks to the bed, pulling the pillows aside and sitting. His hands caress your hair, trying to ignore Father touching you. Ignoring how his hands ran up your legs, caressing the supple flesh of your thighs.

You tried hard to ignore Father's touch, but your body was responding positively. He climbs on top of you, his weight sinking you into the bed. Timid warm kisses trailing up your abdomen to your breasts. 

“Is all of this…necessary?” Lucas's voice cracks.

“Ja,” he continues to kiss over your breasts, lightly sucking on your perky nipples. “Her body needs to be relaxed to accept my seed.”

Lucas huffs, rolling his eyes. König ignores him, moving his lips to kiss up your neck, slowly making his way to your lips. He lightly bit your bottom lip before pressing his lips fully against yours. His knee sliding between your legs, rubbing it against your clit. You whimper slightly as his tongue circles yours.

“You like that, Liebling?” He licks your lips before kissing you passionately. 

Lucas stares at a wall as this is going on. He can feel his cock become slightly erect, but he tries to ignore it. He doesn’t want to get aroused watching a man take his wife. He’s her one and only- at least that’s how it was always supposed to be.

“Let’s see how wet you are for Father…” König says as he leans back. On his black pant leg there is a white wet streak. He smirks and looks at you. “Perfekt.”

Your eyes gaze up at Lucas, a bit of shame in your gaze for becoming so aroused. König grabs your hips and scoots you closer to him. Your legs spread open in front of him as he undoes his pants. He pulls his enormous cock out, his hand grasping it at the base.

Lucas' eyes go wide, looking at König’s penis. A wave of jealousy, insecurity, and shame rushes over him. How would you feel about him after you’ve been with Father? Can he compare? Will he ever be able to please you again? He is quickly snapped out of his thoughts as Father speaks.

“Are you ready, y/n?”

“Yes.” You said quickly, almost too quickly for Lucas’s liking.

“Look at me, Liebling.” König grabs your jaw and makes you look at him. His eyes watching you closely as he slips his cock into you. He watches the way your breathing shutters and your eyebrows pinch together. 

His hand moves from your jaw to your hips, grabbing your legs and spreading them wide apart. With each roll of his hips, you let out a pathetic little mewl. You’re trying your hardest to not give into the pleasure, you’re here to procreate, not have sex.

Lucas notices the way your face contorts with euphoria as König’s big cock fucks you. His cock rock hard in his own pants. He can’t help but to keep his eyes glued to your tiny little cunt struggling to accept König. The way your creamy cum covers his cock. You’re loving this and it kills him.

“Father…” The words slip your lips before you realize you’re moaning his name. Your eyes instantly shoot up to Lucas. An orgasm is building up but you try to fight it. Mouth hanging open, you let out a loud moan as König begins to buck into you faster.

“Cum for me.” König drops one leg and reaches out to squeeze your left breast. 

As you gaze at Lucas your body trembles under König, the sound of your wet cunt getting louder as you cum on his cock.

“That’s it, you’re doing so well.” König leans over and begins to kiss you passionately, stealing your attention back to him. “Your pussy gets so wet for Father.” His whispers kissing down your jaw. 

König pulls out, his large hands grasping your body and turning you over. You get on all fours, facing Lucas. He comes up behind you and slips his cock back into you without words. His hands squeeze the fat on your ass, spanking you to see the jiggle. Lucas glares at him, this is sex for pleasure for Father. His glare does not go unnoticed. 

“I’m close to giving you my seed Liebling…” König’s deep sensual voice now strained from the feelings of your tiny cunt sucking him in. “Lucas, please pray.”

“Pray?” He sounds shocked.

“For me to cum in your wife. For me to impregnate her.”

Your fingers are grabbing beat sheets as you look at Lucas. Babbling words as he thrust his cock even deeper into you. König grabs a fist full of your hair, holding your head up so Lucas has to see the way he is turning his wife into nothing but a stupid little sex doll.

“Please Lord, hear my prayers. Please let Father König’s seed be successful and fruitful.” Lucas looks at you with a slight bit of disgust. His sweet Catholic wife would never be enjoying fornication with another man this much. This was all a mistake.

“Say you want my cum!”

“Please, please cum in me! Please God! Please fill me!” Your voice is so enthusiastic, you’ve never acted like this for Lucas before.

“Ah, Ja!” König stops moving and pushes his cock deep into you. Your eyes roll back and Lucus turns his head to not see the finale play out.

König leans forward and kisses down your neck, biting you so hard he leaves a mark. He rests his body over yours, panting slightly.

.

.

Fully dressed you all stand by the door. You’re glowing. A huge smile on your face as you gaze at Father König with dreamy eyes. König reaches out and caresses your bottom lip with his thumb. Lucas stands there with a defeated look on his face, slightly dissociated in this moment as his mind tries to process what he witnessed.

“If this isn’t successful, my door is always open.” König grins at Lucas as he opens the door for you both.

Part 2

[cannellee]

Tokyo revengers boys getting married to their high school sweetheart 🥰

TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ☆

୨୧ alpha! tokyorev x omega! reader (pairing : mikey, kazutora, mitsuya, chifuyu, ran)

— when they succeed in getting married to their highschool sweetheart

notes : just wanted to say that I'll probably slow down a lot on the posts, this year is pretty crucial for me and my studies and I want to focus on that more, hope you'll understand!!

MY MASTERLIST: ☆

𐙚 ALPHA! MIKEY

the both of you getting married was actually a no-brainer for all of your entourage : mikey was very adamant to remind everyone that you were already courted and that he would not tolerate any concurrents. it easily cleared the way for him and left you with no options except for mikey, as all the others had given up on you, too scared of your crush.

mikey wanted to marry only one omega and it was you. and now he wouldn't have it any other way. you guys managed to keep the same passion as you did when you first met : you still flirt a lot, mikey scents you everyday and still gets overly possessive even though you have his ring on your finger. despite his neutral or grumpy expressions, mikey has those moments of lucidity — usually when you do domestic things for him — when he realises that he actually pulled the prettiest omega at school and that she's right there baking him some treats and he can't get any more smug at the thought.

                                    · · ୨୧ · ·

𐙚 ALPHA! KAZUTORA

finally!! this is such a crucial moment in kazutora's life, a proof of your complete devotion and will to stay by his side. you wanted to wait after marriage before letting him mark you and he's literally pouncing on you the moment you get home after the ceremony. he insisted you go on a honeymoon a few days after getting officially married so you could enjoy some time in the tranquility of your shared home. and kazutora absolutely takes this as his chance to make you his both on the papers and with his teeth. this is the embodiment of his dream since you met each other back in highschool, he's spent countless of efforts trying to charm you, appearing strong and reliable.

he's another territorial alpha, just like mikey but more aggressive. he does it all behind your back though. anyways, the two of you ending next to the priest and reciting your vows wasn't a surprise either. people are more surprised you managed to put up with him and that he didn't have to force you into agreeing to marry him...

he's crying tears of happiness and feels like his claim on you is now even more justified than ever. he's carrying you to his room –where you'll be the safest– with only one idea in mind.

now you're covered with bites, scented from head to toes, absolutely drenched in his pheromones. and next thing you know, his head is filled with the prospect of pups and other ways of keeping you for sure right by his side.

                                    · · ୨୧ · ·

𐙚 ALPHA! MITSUYA

that was only the logical continuation of your relationship. you had been in a solid and stable state for years now, graduating from high-school, then college and moving in together in a small but cozy apartment.

mitsuya had always made sure that you'll always want to stay by his side, taking care of you like no one else can and making you feel the same giddy way you did during your first date.

the both of you had the chance to see the other grow up and never once did your love falter, it's a beautiful enough proof for mitsuya that you're ready for marriage. it's a thought he always had, he's a romantic through and through and strongly believes you were meant to be. marrying you was natural, another step to your already perfect life.

he's the happiest, knowing his love lasted this long and that you never had any doubts about him either.

                                    · · ୨୧ · ·

𐙚 ALPHA! CHIFUYU

he can't even believe it himself. you gave him such a hard time back then, he didn't think your relationship would go this far. you had always played hard to get, refusing his courting gifts and slightly ignoring him, secretly enjoying his defeated look each time you did so.

chifuyu feels like this is such an accomplishment in his life. he looks at you and all his highschool years' memories come back and that's when he knows it was all worth it. if his younger self could see where he was and that you finally had his ring on your finger, he wouldn't believe it.

you still love to tease your soon to-be husband, enjoying how vulnerable he looks when he cries about how much he loves you. seeing how in love he is with you reinforces your decision on getting married : you don't think other omegas have the same luck as you, to have a solid relationship even after years of companionship. but chifuyu can't imagine a life without his precious omega by his side and he lets you know it every single day.

                                    · · ୨୧ · ·

𐙚 ALPHA! RAN

ran actually didn't really attend school that much, but the rare times he did was all for you and you only, the ridiculously adorable omega he had eyes for. you chatted sometimes, when ran directly came to you, but apart from that, nothing much. you became closer a few years later actually, upon stumbling across each other at one of the haitani clubs. he noticed you almost instantly, your smile as charming as ever. it's been so long and yet, the emotions he felt for you were coming back so strongly he couldn't even ignore them.

he paid for your drink, you talked about your years in high-school (or what little memories he had of it) and ran managed to make such a good impression you kept meeting up whenever you had time. ran didn't think much about marriage actually, he only talked to you because he wanted to have you close, the pull he felt prevented him from staying too far away from you. but getting greedier day by day, he needed more, he needed to make it clear for the both of you and others, that you were his omega.

ran's proposal is more motivated by his possessive side rather than his romantic one, it's impossible to refuse and with his money and power, if you wanted to divorce and leave him, he would make it impossible for you to do so.

[dtrghost]

Okay, hear me out. Angst. Ghost. Both Ghost and reader are on 141, but have a secret relationship. They have a habit of tapping each other 3 times to say I love you. Reader gets mortally wounded and because they can’t speak, raises a hand to cradle his face and tap 3 times…. that is all. no pressure to write this but it’s stuck in my brain and it’s gotta get out.

MMMMMMM. MMMMMMM. I took it in a different direction, because if someone you love is dying, than you don't care about hiding anymore, i love this request though, and i'll be sure to do my best.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x GN!reader

Warnings: I cried like three times writing this so read at your own risk. death, blood, mentions of grief and depression and just a bunch of sad shit. happy ending if you think about it?

You had met Simon on a mission, a standard overwatch operation with you perched on a water tower, a sniper carefully secured to the railing in the dead of night as you guided them through the murky waters of a swamp, leading them with a single high-powered laser as a guide, watching for anyone who might catch you, him, or both. You guided them through landmines and body heat sensing, computer programmed guns sitting at the top of a canyon, and brought them back safely.

HQ saw how well you worked together, how when you moved, he moved, and how the connection went both ways, so they put you both on Task Force 141 where countless missions grew an undying, never breaking bond that supported you through the hardest times. On those missions, during the dark nights and bright days where the sun burned your skin and the moon kissed you to sleep with it's gentle gleam, you found yourself falling for him, and vice versa. You fell first, but he fell harder, and he desperately needed to protect what you had, so you hid it. On missions, you acted as you usually did, indifferent with an aura of trust that vibrated within the team, but three taps to the arm solidified your love for each other.

Three taps before a mission, three taps after a success, three taps at the end of every day, three taps before you slept, and three taps when you woke up. I love you.

I love you.

I love you. You needed him just as much as he needed you, and in a whirlwind of time, years of missions and sneaking off base to grab a drink at some shitty pub where you'd find yourself drinking a can of soda while he racked up glasses of bear, you knew that he was the one, and he knew it too. You married, a private wedding with only the two of you, the priest being an old family friend of Simon's who died a year later, leaving just the two of you with the knowledge of your relationship. It wasn't extravagant by any means, but it was enough to make the both of you happy, and that's what mattered. To the both of you, life was good, your relationship was kept a well maintained secret, your love still as strong as ever even if you couldn't express it as openly as you wished.

But you both knew the dangers, the close calls that led to nights where you'd sneak into each other's rooms, tears falling onto the pillow cases as you laid wrapped in each other's embrace, whispering soft words of affection that you couldn't whisper anywhere else, keeping quiet so nobody would hear you.

My love, My world, My other half. The arguments were limited to but a handful, all only happening because of a mistake on a mission, a reckless decision that led to a risk in someone's life. Simon or yourself dragging each other to the forest outside of base so you could let your emotions burst at the seams, yelling at each other with ferocious tones that symbolized the depths of your fear. Simon was the worst, he had nobody left, no family, friends being hard to come by other than his team, and losing you was something he couldn't afford, something he wouldn't allow.

...

So when you were shot, and he could feel your pulse slow down with your blood coating his fingers in the middle of a forest with just the two of you, it was almost surreal.

...not you. anyone but you.

"Hey, hey, look at me." He commanded, his tone firm yet contradicted by the fear in his voice. Blood was gushing out of your wound, seeping into his vest, his gloves, into his soul that felt like it was being torn apart, shattered into tiny pieces.

"Simon-"

"Don't talk. You're gonna be fine." His voice cracked as he shouted for help, evac on it's way as he pressed his hans down on your wound to try and slow the inevitable.

"We knew the risks." You soothed, your body growing weak as a tear dripped down your cheek, falling from his eyes as he hovered over you.

"No no no no please not you, not you anyone but you."

He pleaded, his voice hoarse and rough with agony as he rocked you back in forth, consoling himself and you as you began to fade away, clinging your weak and fragile body to his, feeling as if you were being ripped away from him. He hated how helpless he felt, how small the weight of the world and the situation he couldn't control made him feel. Regrets snuck up on him, he could've been faster, he could've been stronger, he could've said I love you and proudly showed you off to the world as his so you didn't have to hide.

"Simon, please, look at me." He did, because in his heart he knew he didn't have much time left, that this was your final night alive, the last time he'd hear your voice, see the light in your eyes staring back up at him, to hold you while you were still alive.

"I love you."

"No, don't start, you're gonna be fine. You're fine."

"You're right. I can't even feel it anymore. I'm not in pain, I'm with you, i'm right here." You soothed, your fingers coming up to his face, pulling up his mask in the solitude of the forest you were hiding in. You wiped his tears, smiling that smile that he fell for all those years ago. With three taps, he watched your eyes twinkle, symbolizing the last breath of a dying star as your hand dropped, taking your last breath as he tapped back, sending you off with a final, silent I love you as the sun sank, the warm glow fading as a cold current passed through him.

The world around him was silent as he stared down at your face, seeing the peace, the serenity as everything crashed down on him. Your future together was gone, your plans crushed under the fist of death, the force that swept you away from him as he cried your name. For days he didn't leave his room, letting his grief consume him as he listened to your voicemails over and over to ingrain the sound in his mind, your ring dangling from his neck as his tears fell on the framed picture of you two together that he had hidden away in his home. He couldn't sleep, he couldn't eat, and for a time nobody knew why, until he walked into work one day wearing his ring which he had altered to have your initials engraved into the gold metal that he adored, because he always believed gold complimented you the best.

You were his sun, his life, the reason why the world spun and why his chest continued to rise and fall with every breath he took. You were who he looked for when he got home, you were who he thought of when he looked up at the moon at night, and you were the painful reminder that he was once again alone, destined to live his life as the soldier who lost everything and deserved nothing. Days, weeks, and months passed, and he tried to go on, to continue his job the way you wanted him to.

And on one day, one day he'd remember for the rest of his life as his salvation, his body fell to the floor with a hard thump, the hot metal of a bullet striking him in the heart that ached for every part of you. His eyes met Price who went to call for medics, only to see the silent pleading in the eyes of his companion. John remembered that night, the night where he finally confronted his subordinate about his behavior, hearing the story of your love and remembering his words.

If and when it happens, let me go. Let me choose to be with them.

So John stopped his team with a shake of his head, the serenity of Simon's eyes bringing him the relief he needed to finally let him go with a smile his way.

"Find her Simon."

He couldn't help but smile at the memories he shared with you, his life with you flashing in his mind like he'd read in books or seen in movies, relishing the comfort of the rising sun as he embraced his life coming to it's inevitable end. He hoped that your death was this peaceful, that his arms that supported you brought the same warm and comfort that he felt in this moment as he went to join you, and as his eyes closed for the last time, he felt himself being pulled away by the gentle tide of departure from the physical world as a bright like glowed, encasing his eyelids so it was all he could see. With three taps on his arm and the gap in his soul being filled to the brim with your love, he knew he was home.

At last.

Yeahhh. I cried in front of my roommates writing this bro. Anyway enjoy!! Thank you so much for the request!!

[abbyromanoff]

I had a bit of a cnc stoner Wanda thought where she coaxes you into trying her special treat & holds a blunt to your lips, all before proceeding to get high as well & lazily play with your clit <3

Try It

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: 4314

Warnings: smut, jealously, possessiveness, edging, kinda public sex, college AU, strap on use, edging, crying, weed usage, small cnc, mommy kink, multiple orgasms, thigh riding, begging, sub!r, Dom!wanda, emo Wanda, mentions of pervert Wanda, mentions of porn, small angst, homophobia, praise kink

No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!

Wanda walked into her class, luckily she only had two today. She took the seat next to you, making you turn to look at her. Her hand made its way to your thigh, she admired the way you worriedly looked to see if anyone would notice. You were always like that. It’s not like you were ashamed of her, no, you loved to be seen around with your girlfriend. But sometimes, the bold moves she’d make were too much for the public eye. The occasional grab of the ass, her hand placing itself on your thigh like she was doing now, you didn’t want people seeing. Especially not your parents.

You two met when you were children. Seeming as your parents were best friends, it was hard not to be around each other at all times. You and her brother always were closer, your parents always said you two would get married one day. He was also the first person you came out to, and the first you informed of your crush on his sister. He wasn’t the happiest, but he got over it. You can still hear all the ‘Wanda and Y/N sitting in a tree’ jokes, or how he’d wrap his arms around him and pretend he was making out with himself to mock you two.

Your mother and father never knew of your sexuality, especially not since your dad was the priest. He was loved by everyone, except you. Wanda would always be the one to comfort you when you were confused, she knew what it was like to deal with unsupporting parents. Unlike you, she found a way to get away from it all, weed.

While you did student councils and spelling bees, she’d escape the world by smoking. Her grades would slip as yours exceeded, you needed the academic validation. Wanda didn’t care anymore, she just wanted to live her teenage years by having fun.

Whenever you had study dates, she’d end up convincing you to stop and watch a movie with her. She’d usually offer you a joint, only for you to quickly dismiss it. You would never be allowed back into your home if they ever found out you smoked, they’d quite literally kill you.

You and Wanda first started dating back in your senior year of high school. After years of pining over one another, she nervously asked you to prom where you both shared your first kiss in the girls' bathroom. Your parents obviously would never let you go to the dance with a woman, so Pietro offered to pretend as though he’d take you if you got him a date with a girl in your honors society club.

And ever since then, you and Wanda have been inseparable. You both got accepted into the same college luckily, the one you’ve been dreaming of going to since you were a little kid. Wanda always was one to go out to parties and skip class, but you were the same as your high school years, getting all A’s on every assignment you did. Your professors all loved you, not so much your girlfriend though. But you didn’t care. If Wanda were to ask you to skip class with her, more often than not you’d say yes. If she dragged you to a party, you’d end up making out in her truck by the end of it. One time, she took you to a frat house and had you wasted by the end. You woke up with a tattoo of the letter W in between your middle finger. She already had your name tattooed on her wrist, you scolded her the day you first saw it.

Everyone started rolling into class, some late, some just barely making it. Wanda never moved her hand, and the small smirk covering her face never left. Your best friend and head of the debate team sat on the other side of you, Kate Bishop. Wanda never seemed to like her, she always said she was too much of a priss or that she wanted to get in your pants. She said that about everyone, actually. Kate gave you a look with a small smile, Wanda flipped her off behind your back. She rolled her eyes, pulling out her notebook before starting small talk between you too. Your girlfriend rested her head on your shoulder, trying to distract you from your conversation with small pecks to your neck.

“Wanda! We’re in the middle of a lecture!” You scolded in a small whisper, turning back to your friend and giving an apologetic smile. Wanda sighed, frustrated by your actions. You were such a goodie two shoes. Sometimes your friends wondered how you two ended up together, and if you were being honest, you didn’t know either. I guess two opposites attract.

“But I don’t care about this dumbass class. C’mon, what do you say me and you head out of here? Come back to my place?” You threw your head back slightly, annoyed by the same words she said every day. “Oh c’mon, please? We can have some fun?” You chose to ignore her instead, trying your best to listen in on the professor’s words. She didn’t stop though, if anything, she teased you more. Her hand had traveled further up your leg, playing with the hem of your panties under your skirt. You tried to discreetly push her off, struggling to write your notes down. Your face was cherry red, and Wanda was grinning.

“Now do you want to leave?” She asked hopefully, just wanting to get out of this boring class already.

“Nope.” Your thigh jumped up and down as you picked at your lips, looking around nervously to see if anyone could see her fingers moving your panties to the side. You closed your legs to the best of your ability, only to no avail. She pushed them back open, giving a harsh grab as a warning.

“At least let me have some fun, baby.” You looked at her like was crazy. You let out a small moan under your breath as the pads of her fingers rubbed your clit ever so gently. You hid any noise with a small cough or fake sneeze, Wanda would always say bless you as if she didn’t know what was going on. She acted innocent. And you hated it.

“Wanda, we can’t do this here.” She leaned into your ear, making sure the professor was facing the board so he couldn’t see you two.

“Then let's leave, princess. We can head back to my place where I’ll properly fuck you.” She grabbed your hand, placing it on her crotch as you felt a small bulge. She was packing. You retreaded your hand quickly, your cheeks a cherry red. She chuckled dryly, you hoped she would remove her digits but she didn’t, she just left them there. She didn’t move them, they just sat there as if wanting you to do the work instead. You couldn’t stop the small buck of your hips, chasing after her like she was holding your favorite candy. You wished you could wipe that smug look off her face.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, meet me in a few minutes.” And you did. The professor looked at you puzzled when you both left, Wanda covering by saying you had ‘girl problems’ making both you and the man blush. She dragged you into the nearest stall, pushing you against the door and kissing you fiercely, she wished that Kate could walk in and see how wet you were for her. Her fingers trailed beneath your skirt, the way she did just moments ago. Her fingertips grazed your clit through your panties, barely touching you just to see how you react.

“Mommy, please.” You whined and begged, hoping she’d have some sort of mercy on you. She didn’t. She wanted to make you as desperate as she was, she wanted to watch you wither.

“You’re fucking soaked, baby. Is this all for mommy? Has she gotten you all worked up?” You nodded and looked down shamefully, the embarrassment overtaking you. She gripped your chin, making you look at her with pleading eyes.

“Y-yes, it’s all for you, mommy.” She hummed and dropped to her knees, you gave her a look of shock before she gave a small lick to your center.

“Did mommy get you all horny and desperate?” When not receiving a response, she looked back up at you. Your hands folded behind your back and your legs parted just enough for her to get between them, you were such a shy girl. She suddenly stood up, making you look at her with confusion before she walked past you and to the door of the bathroom. She looked back at your shaken-up state,

“You coming?” Yeah, you would be. You both walked back into class, Wanda following shortly behind you. Some gave you disapproving glances, others trying not to look at you and have to deal with Wanda’s wrath.

When the painfully slow class finally ended, Wanda threw her bag onto the floor of her and Pietro’s apartment. She didn’t exactly want to live with her brother during college, the two of them would often bring girls back home making it awkward. But she couldn’t do much about it, she could barely even afford to live here.

She was having a stressful day, And all she wanted to do at that moment was call you up or get high, her two favorite things. She knew you’d probably be studying or doing homework, but she also knew you were thinking about her. About the wetness coating your inner thighs. She could see it right now, you rubbing your thighs together, finding any way to get yourself off. Shyly playing with your clit, teasing your hole with a finger. You probably wouldn’t even be able to fit a digit inside of your tight hole, she can barely even fit her strap inside of you.

Luckily, Pietro wasn’t going to be home for the next week as he was visiting their mom and dad. So, she grabbed the small jar of weed in her nightstand drawer, taking the paper and rolling up the small joint. Her favorite thing to do was have you roll it, watching the way you tried your best only for it to be close to falling apart. She’d chuckle, and you’d pout back at her. But you never smoked with her, you refused.

She lit the joint and took a long drag, puffing out smoke into the humid living room. The couch wasn’t the most comfortable, but it was better than nothing. The playboys that were left out a few days ago plagued her mind. She stood up, balancing herself before grabbing one and going back to the living room. She undressed her bottom half, too lazy to take off her shirt as she got right into it. Her fingers teased her clit as she flipped through the pages, the naked woman only making her think about you more.

“Mm, fuck Y/N. Such a good little girl for me.” She moaned out into the empty room, not caring if she was just talking to herself. The weed was getting to her, goosebumps spreading across her body.

Before she could go any further, her phone rang, the bright light illuminating the dark room. She sighed and looked at the contact, her mood immediately lifting when seeing the caller. She answered on the fourth ring, her raspy voice making you shiver.

“Yes, baby?” She could hear your moan from the other side of the call, smirking to herself when realizing what you were doing.

“Baby, are you touching yourself?” You only nodded before remembering she couldn’t see you. Your clit throbbed as you rode the small teddy bear she got you for your anniversary, picturing it was her strap you were riding instead. Your hips only gained speed hearing her on the other end, the fear she wouldn’t like this going away when you heard her groaning. She hit the facetime button, wanting to see your weeping cunt on the fluffy fur of the stuffed animal.

“C’mon princess, let mommy see you.” Your camera was placed at the end of your bed, giving a full view of your bottom. She could see your head looking back at one place continuously, probably making sure your dorm mate wouldn’t walk in anytime soon.

“Oh sweetheart, are you scared someone will see you? What do you think would happen if they walked in right now? You think they’d stay and watch you whoring yourself out on the phone?”

“Mommy, need you.” She ticked, taking another puff of her joint before speaking up once more.

“You never answered my question, sweetheart. Tell me, what would you do if someone walked in right now to see you like this, so sweet and innocent riding the teddy bear I got you? Would you stop? Or would you keep going for me, for mommy?” You wished you could say no, that you’d never let anyone see you all needy and vulnerable. But that would be a lie. The thought alone brought more discomfort to your body, the good kind of discomfort.

“Mommy, I-I think I need to cum.” You whined out, chasing the high you prayed she would finally give you.

“Oh, honey, you wanna cum?” You nodded fastly, the stuffed animal being coated with your slick. She hummed, acting as if she was deciding.

“Hmm, no.” She hung up before you could complain, knowing you wouldn’t bring yourself to finish if she denied you. Her whole plan was just to get you to come over, then she could see you once more. She’d be the one to make you cum, not your teddy bear.

Ten minutes later, she heard a small but rushed knock at her flat. She smirked, knowing who it was, and stood up, opening the almost completely broken door. There you stood, clutching close to your skirt as you tried getting past her and going inside.

“You missed me that much.” You tackled her with a kiss, desperate to have her on you somehow.

“Please, mommy, I’m so wet and sticky down there.” She smiled sweetly at you before walking you backwards, sitting you down on the couch, and towering over you.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve taken care of you.” Tears flooded your eyes as she gave you a seemingly innocent pout.

“Y-you hung up on me! I was so close and you just hung up!” She sat down, grasping your hips and tossing one of your legs over her own. Her fingers trailed under your skirt, her other hand forcing you to stay open for her. She felt a damp wet spot marking your panties, gasping as she realized you weren’t lying, you were actually that horny.

“Oh my, you’re dripping all over me! You’re gonna ruin my couch, baby.” She saw the way you eyed her small jar of weed, looking back at her with pleading eyes.

“You want to try some?” She was beyond excited when you gave a shy nod, making you your own to try.

“Alright, just take it between your lips and- yeah, that’s it. Just breathe in, and blow it out.” You coughed harshly, feeling embarrassed when hearing Wanda laughing at you. Her hands wandered around your body, grabbing your ass hidden beneath your schoolgirl skirt in her hands. She moaned under her breath and stuck her head in your neck, smelling the cologne of hers that you took.

“This precious little ass, so perfect.” She groped you without any shame, not caring for the whimpers that would leave your mouth.

“Mommy, tastes funny.” She nodded, patting your back to help you get it all out. She bounced you up and down like she was burping a baby, you were her baby. Her innocent little doll. And she fucking loved it.

No matter how hard she tried to resist it, she needed to fuck your sweet cunt. She needed to mark it as hers, have you know that you belong to her and only her.

“Doll?” She whispered, receiving a small hum in return, “Mommy really needs you right now, can you be good and let mommy play?” You felt so used, like she had ruined you for anyone else. You could see the imprint in her pants, the same one from earlier. Her bottoms were already unbuttoned, her boxers being the only thing left to stop you from riding her strap. You could tell what she wanted, she wanted to hear you beg. Plead her for her cock. And you wanted to give in, but you so badly wanted to show her that you didn’t need her. To make her realize that you didn’t survive off of her fucking you, and that it was just a pleasure.

So, you shook your head, seeing the small smirk on her face falter in the slightest. “What do you mean no? I thought you were just begging to be fucked by me.” She knew how to get under your skin, and you hated it.

“I mean, no. I don’t need you touching me every second, you don’t always have to be so goddamn horny, Wanda.” You faked a huff and crossed your arms over your chest. The woman held back her laugh, finding your clear lie funnier than she should.

“Oh, sweetheart, you know that’s not my name. I thought you were smart enough to know this by now, because you need me. You need me to fuck this pussy every second. You need to be dripping with my cum every second. And you need mommy to touch you every fucking second.” Her lip went between her teeth, the muscles in her face clenching as you stared into her reddened and droopy eyes. She was high out of her mind, and you hated to say you loved it.

“Tell me the truth. You want mommy to fuck you, we both know you do.” You tried getting off her lap to no avail. She had a strong hold over you, and not just physically. When you didn’t answer, she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and leaned back into your neck. She grazed her tongue against the skin, watching as goosebumps erupted over your entire body. Her arms stroked your inner thighs reaching close to your covered cunt.

“Tell me, my love. Tell mommy how much you need me.” You couldn’t care to deny it anymore. As much as you wanted to put up a fight, you knew you needed her on you, inside of you.

“I want it so bad, mommy, I really do!” She hummed into you, her teeth biting the shell of your ear.

“Yeah? But I thought you were just telling me you don’t?”

“I’m sorry, mommy, I really am! I-I need it, I do!” Her thigh was covered in your slick as you slid back and forth, the soft skin beneath you quickly becoming an addiction. Your hand placed itself on her bulge, feeling the toy straining and begging to be inside of you. The blunt returned to its spot between her fingertips, taking a long drag before puffing it out in your face. It smelt horrible yet amazing at the same time. Knowing that the smoke came from her made it all the more attractive.

“You want mommy’s dick? You want to be stretched out, baby?” Your nod wasn’t good enough for her, she wanted you to beg. She wanted you to beg her just to even touch you.

“Words, my love, words.” You had trouble forming a sentence. The overwhelming feeling of her soft and plushy thigh beneath you was too much. Your orgasm hit like waves. It was strong, powerful even. You were shocked she didn’t ruin it, she just watched with heavy and hungry eyes.

“Fuck, you have no idea what you do to me. You get me so hard.” She let out a loud moan once she finished speaking. You both knew she couldn’t actually get hard, but she loved pretending she had a real dick. She loved acting as though she could feel you clenching around her because fuck, she wishes she could. She wanted to feel you as you came around her cock.

“My god, you’re so fucking hot, my love.”

“Thank you, mommy.” She laughed in your face, something you didn’t expect. You thought you were done, that she’d let you calm down and sleep. But she couldn’t get enough of you, she needed you so badly.

“You’re welcome, princess, But, I think you owe me another one, don’t you?” You only nodded along, losing grip on reality as you plummeted to the pleasure. You moved your hips upwards and rested yourself above the tip of her length. If you had to guess it was probably close to seven inches, it had to be the largest piece you’ve taken so far. The second the head of her cock entered you, you already felt full.

“Mommy, too big!” Your whines amused the woman who did not care to remove her hands from your hips. She was guiding you to go lower, to be filled to the brim just how she liked.

“Oh, darling, you can take it. You’re my big girl! You take whatever mommy gives you, right?” She was manipulating you, and you thrived off of it. You loved the satisfaction of her forcing you to do what she wanted.

“Yes! Yes, I take what mommy gives me!” She hummed in response, eyes focused on your weeping cunt. You were dripping and she just wanted a taste. As much as she loved weed, you’d always be her favorite taste. You were her favorite little girl.

“Oh, baby! You take my dick so well! And I’m not even helping, such a smart girl you are.” You soaked in her praises, eyes closed and mind fuzzy. You couldn’t think, she was the only thing clouding your mind.

“Thank you, mommy. Thank you for fucking me.” She kissed the side of your face before leaning down and capturing your hard nipples in her mouth. Her tongue played with the bud, a small trail of saliva being left behind as she moved on to the other.

Your hips started grinding desperately, already nearing the edge once more. You knew she’d make you hold it, not letting you cum till you begged her helplessly.

“Princess, does mommy’s little girl need to cum? Are they that dumb and fuzzy and need their mommy?” She didn’t let your small nod be your only answer. She wanted to hear just how much you needed her, how wet you were for her and only her.

“Doll, you know mommy doesn’t like when her girl is ignoring her. Tell me, do you need to cum?” The tone of her voice would never match the cold expressions she’d have painted on her face. The black makeup she wore and leather jackets she’d drape over her shirt. Most of the time, you ended up being the one to wear her coat, she loved seeing you wear it more than anything. But, seeing you wear nothing but her jacket? God, it fucked her in the head. Her mind would short-circuit seeing your tits bouncing under her clothes.

“I-I need to cum, mommy. Please let me cum for you?” The coil in your stomach was closer to snapping than ever before. Feeling her strap deep in your walls had you clenching hard.

“That was weak, darling. C’mon, beg mommy.” No words could explain how embarrassed you were. You knew she loved it, but fuck was it difficult. You could barely even muster out words let alone plead her. But you knew you had to if you wanted the release you were chasing.

“Please, mommy! Please fuck me! I want to cum so bad, want you to breed me. Want you to fuck a baby in me, mommy, please!” She pondered for a moment. As much as she wanted to edge you all night till you were crying and shaking, she wouldn’t be that cruel to her angel. Her sweet thing needed to finish, and she’d let them.

“Do it for me. Fucking cum for your mommy.” She growled out next to your ear, feeling your legs shaking on top of her own. She leaned back to watch as she took another hit of her blunt. She wishes she’d taken a photo along with all of the Polaroids of your nude body she has. It was kept in a shoe box under her bed next to the playboys she’d forgotten about. Every night she missed your precious body and you were asleep on the phone, she’d masturbate to your photos. The ones with cum dripping down your legs. The ones with markings of ‘mommy’s slut’ on your stomach. The ones with hickeys coating your neck and tits. And especially the ones she had taken of your blissed-out face. How she could stare at those all day and still miss you.

“That’s a good girl, so good for me. You did so well, took all of them so damn well.” You mumbled out your appreciation before taking the small blunt out of her hands. You took a small swig to impress her, only receiving a small lip bite in return. She didn’t know how she ended up with the hottest little slut, but she did. And you were all hers. No matter how much the others talked about you, you both knew at the end of the day, she was the one making you cum. She was the one pounding you with her fingers or her strap. You were all hers, and that’s how it would always be. You were her sweet little dove.

“That’s a good girl, so good for me. You did so well, took all of them so damn well.” You mumbled out your appreciation before taking the small blunt out of her hands. You took a small swig to impress her, only receiving a small lip bite in return. She didn’t know how she ended up with the hottest little slut, but she did. And you were all hers. No matter how much the others talked about you, you both knew at the end of the day, she was the one making you cum. She was the one pounding you with her fingers or her strap. You were all hers, and that’s how it would always be. You were her sweet little dove.

[damiansgoodgirll]

Hi love 💕 can you please write reader x damian where she has like a chronic illness \ pain and she has some of those days where all she wants is to be taken care of? thank you 💗💗💗

wrote this with high fever so probably not the best :(

damian priest x reader

one of those days

being in that car accident when you were seven really fucked up your life. you were lucky to even be still alive, only getting out of it with bad injuries but nothing worse. expect your dream of being a wrestler fading away.

you grew up watching wrestling with your family. your dad was a fan. your mom was a fan too and you grew being a fan too. you remember asking wrestlemania tickets every year for christmas, nothing more.

but you knew that after being stuck in bed for over a year did nothing but more damage to your body.

it was a really bad accident, leaving you with the worst back pain you’ve ever felt. you thought it was going to go away but it never did. growing up the pain became stronger to the point you had to stay weeks away from school because you couldn’t even move. your dream of being a wrestler completely faded away but your lucky star made your wish come true anyway.

you were a sport journalist and even if you worked for hockey, baseball, football and basketball somehow you ended up hosting a wwe post game show. and that was everything you ever dreamed of.

you had the chance to meet amazing people, new friends and even the love of your life.

at first it was scary having to host interviews with the judgment day but in the end you found out they were the most caring and loving people you’ve ever met. you and rhea bonded immediately. she was the first to know about your pain and about the accident that happened and she made you promise to always call her in case you needed anything. same thing happened with finn and dom. with damian things were a little different. he fell in love with you the moment he saw you and he wanted everyone to know that he was in love. he started from giving you coffee in the morning to offering you lunches and dinners. he loved picking you up in the morning and taking you back home at night. he just loved being in your presence.

and you ended up falling for him too.

he always took care of you in a way no one ever did. not only about the physical pain. he knew you. he knew how to listen to you. he knew how to read you and that was all that mattered to you.

it was one of those morning where you were lucky you didn’t have to leave the house for work that day because you just spent the worst sleepless night ever.

your back was hurting once again and you couldn’t even move your legs to go to the bathroom.

“is everything okay princesa?” damian asked when he saw you trying to move your position in bed.

“just one of those days…”

“here let me help you” he smiled at you, moving his arms under your back, making sure to not hit the spot that hurts you. he helped you sitting more comfortably in bed, positioning some pillows under your back and under your head.

“thank you” you smiled at him.

“it’s my pleasure, do you need anything else? water? something to eat?” he asked softly, making sure he wasn’t overwhelming you.

“i’m okay, thanks” you whispered “can you just hug me?” you shyly asked him.

his heart melted at the sound of your soft and sweet voice “of course love” he said, helping you moving towards his body so now you were laying on his chest while his hands went to your back, gently massaging it.

“does it hurt?” he asked.

“today more than yesterday…it’s normal tho…i just have bad days too”

“i know…i just wish you didn’t have those days…whatever you need i’m here, food, water, a hot bath, just say it and i’ll make everything possible” he smiled at you.

“can we just stay like this forever?”

“as you wish my queen” he laughed making you laugh too.

“i just love you so much damian…thank you for always being here for me”

“te amo mi amor…so much” he whispered when he saw you relaxing against his chest and closing your eyes once again.

he never thought he would find love but you came and proved him wrong.

[renren-006]

Lost Love Series/ Part 1- Atlanta-Virginia

Negan x fem reader

plot: reader and negan were together before the world ended, but after it did they got separated. what happens when they find each-other again? (the first part is just establishing where the reader is, not much mention of negan yet! will be maybe a 2/3 part story)

A/N: hey hey! for this story i am just on a Jeffry dean morgan kick and wanted to write something longer for him! hope you enjoy and leave some comments for ideas and requests are still open for anyone wanting to leave one!

warnings: violence,

Word count: 1140

other parts: Part 2: Heart Strings

You met Rick and his group in Atlanta. You had become friends with Beth when she joined you at the Hospital before she died. Yourself and Noah were at first unsure of the new group welcoming you in. You felt bad for them, having lost the young girl with such fire in her eyes. You loved Beth and you had cared for her, and Noah, while you were all at the Hospital. How you ended up getting the courage to leave and to watch the man, Daryl, carry her body out of the building, you didn't know. You stumbled after them, hopeless and tired. You had lost many people over the years of this apocalyptic world, but this loss stung your heart. You knew what it was like to love and lose people, you had lost your husband right when the world had ended, or at least you assumed he was dead after these 2ish years of never seeing him. 

The group meandered their way out of the city. Those next few weeks were a blur. You lost Noah soon after Beth when they found his home had been overrun, and not too long after that another one of Beth's friends had died. Three people in the matter of weeks had been swept away in front of your eyes. You had seen so much death that the essence of losing was something you were used too. 

The long road ahead of them stretched for miles, and miles. You were tired and so were your companions. Your company was not unnoticed by them and they knew they could never abandon you or leave you because you were all alive and together for a reason. The priest was the only one to try and talk to you, seeing as the rest of the group were more than fine never speaking to him. You took his company with grace and tried your best to talk with him.

“You’ve been wearing a ring since we met you” he said, glancing down at the emerald diamond on your finger. He had given that to you five years ago, of those three years you spent with him before the world ended two years ago. 

“My husband gave it to me” you told him, he glanced up at me. 

“You look young,” he said. 

“I guess I am.” you told the priest. 

“Where is he now?” he asked, you froze my face reading my uncertainty.

“I don't know” The conversation lulled after that.

*

You sat across from Negan at the dinner place the two of you went too. You had been out of college for a decent amount of time now while Negan was a few years older than you. You were in your late twenties while he was in his late thirties. You met him a few years ago, two to be exact, at your favorite bar. You two hit it off and he worried for a while that his age and how he was a bit older than you would scare you off, it didn't. Now that you had been with him for almost 2 and a half years the lines of age and life blurred and you just cared about being with him. The dinner was nice, soft jazz music filled the restaurant and the quiet talking of others there lulled the atmosphere that you almost didn't notice him bring out the ring. It was a shock to you but you felt instantly happy after seeing what he brought out. 

“Y/N will you make me the happiest man and marry me?” Negan asked, the restaurant filled with happy people turning towards your table. 

“Oh my god! Yes! Yes absolutely!” you told him, launching  from your chair to hug him in the middle of the restaurant. That day was one of the happiest for you, besides your small little wedding the two of you had. It was your parents and your friends gathered in a small courtroom a few months later to officially make you man and wife. Neither of you wanted something big and neither were very religious, so a small court wedding was. The engagement ring of a simple small band with little gems was soon joined by your emerald cut diamond one that smarkled in the sunlight. You wore that ring every day and he wore his band and never once took it off, more than happy to have you and it by his side. 

*

The topic of him never arose again and you knew the others had heard the conversation, given the looks you received from Sasha and Maggie. They both looked as if they wanted to know more, ask about my life before the world ended and before you had met them. You lingered alongside Sasha for a bit, she gave me a questionable look, You okay? I looked up at the gray clouded skies, something was brewing. You nodded back at Sasha solemnly, I'm fine. She nodded her head understanding not wanting to talk anymore about the loss. 

Everything that happened before was just motions, you just went through motions of surviving, but now, now was different. It was really the things you experienced and there were people my age that had also gone through hard times and lost many. You didn't have any room to complain about my losses when everyone had their own experiences with the living dead, and the dead that haunt. 

Surviving that night after the rain poured down on us became our next mission. With the storm it brought a horde of walkers towards the barn we were held up in. The doors had to be held shut by us that night, struggling to hold them with everyone's bodies against each other, the feeling of spirits breaking as we did. When the doors didn't need to be held anymore and everyone collapsed from the exhaustion you curled up on the floor and slept soundly from the exhaustion. 

You woke the next morning to the sun sparkling on your face from the splits in the boarded wall. You sat up, looking around at the others awake and asleep. The day flew by fast for you, the storm's mess and the new man leading you towards his home, you didn't know where the night before and the day's end started or ended. You were at a loss as to what had happened the past couple of weeks, like the rest of them you were going through the motions of surviving. Once you arrived at this new home a twinge in your hard pounded. Something was different about this place about Verginia, something that felt like home. You looked around the area outside the gates, no familiar scents, places or people, but still your heart pounded like it was a new, foreign place.

[catladyoftheyr]

「 ✦ 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 & 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐦 ✦ 」

Warnings for: religious trauma, religious guilt, religious abuse, mentions of lent, smoking/drinking, catholic school, sex, violence/fighting, confession, prayer

Notes: this is based off an AU of a fic I’m hoping to get out this weekend where Miguel is an up and coming boxer with a checkered past. This is my! Miguel i make the rules 😘

Poor Miguel embodies catholic guilt to me. I feel like he went to catholic school and never recovered. He’s always had a temper and he’d get into fights with the other boys. He’d come with a bloody lip or a chipped tooth. I know Nuns stopped using corporal punishment in the 70s but this is my AU. Poor Miguel would get an earful and have to stay after to write lines and clean erasers. And if he was especially unlucky, a paddling. All of this only made him more angry.

He learned the Bible backward and forward. He learned his prayers, how to do the Rosary and say the Our Father. Raised to say Grace before every meal, to say your prayers on your knees before bed every night. To thank God for letting you live to see another day. He went to church every Sunday and he got his first communion and his confirmation. The photos are framed on the mantel in his parent’s home.

His anger never went away as he got older. He was known to pick fights, and to get kicked out bars. He was a rebellious teenager, mad at God, and at himself. He felt that it was going to hell anyways, he might as well make it worth his time. He’d sneak out at night, and drink with his friends. He was rowdy, loud, and reckless. He loved to drive too fast and almost got his license suspended before he’d even had it a year because he had so many speeding tickets. He’d jump the subway turnstiles and steal small things from bodegas and drug stores.

As a young adult, Miguel had a steady girlfriend. It was rocky but he was trying his best. He really cared about her and wanted to clean up his act for her. She was patient and tender, just like the Saints were supposed to be. She was a Good Catholic Girl, just what his parents wanted. But Catholic school doesn’t provide sex education. They got pregnant; Their parents pressured them into a hasty marriage before she could start showing. That’s what you’re supposed to do.

They had a beautiful baby girl, Gabriella. Miguel cried the day she was born. He knew he’d love her more than anything else for the rest of his life. He tried so hard to get his shit together for real this time. He got a real job, even. But the pressure to be the strong man of the house got to him. He started drinking heavily again, and he’d stay out late. His wife found out he was unfaithful and she left, taking Gabriella with her. Miguel’s bad behavior only gave him weekends and every other holiday.

He felt like the sky was falling, and he spiraled. He went back to church and talked to the priest. He was told to have faith in the Lord to guide him. The Lord was his shepherd and he must be patient and willing to listen. What a lousy shepherd

He eventually landed in prison for a couple years. Assault and Burglary lead to hard time. He got out on good behavior but didn’t have anywhere to go. He found a distant cousin to crash with until he got on his feet. His cousin frequented a local boxing gym, and Miguel fell in love the sport. He was a natural at it, and it was healthy outlet for his emotions.

He was working on a better custody deal with Gabriella’s mother when suddenly she passed away in a tragic accident. Miguel had found himself thrust into full custody. He enrolled the young girl in Catholic school, hoping for her to have a better relationship with God than he did. His life was just starting to be back on track when he met you at the bus stop. You’d dropped your token down a storm drain and he’d paid for your fare. He’d assumed that would be the last time he’d ever see you, but you’d slipped a post it with your cell number in his bag.

Will everything get derailed again? Or will Miguel find another saintly woman to love?

[ancha-aus]

Some thoughts about Priest Cross in the Ghosts & Medium AU.

Warning: Religious trauma and slight homophobia (All because of XGaster)

My friendo @mikimakiboo already wrote a bit about it before but I figured I should write a more expanded version of this :D

Cross used to be an orphan but both him and his, future, brother were adopted by XGaster.

XGaster was a man of religion and a priest in a church himself. The church he worked at and resided did not interact a lot with the spiritual and supernatural nature of the spirits and wandering souls. Ironically this group was more focused on bringing peace to the living to enable them to move on immediantly instead of helping the wandering spirits find peace.

XGaster believed that the spirits who wandered didn't deserve to find rest. He believed it was a punishment for them for things they did in their life.

As you can imagine. People did not enjoy this and XGaster's public image was not the best. But as head of the church he needed to havve a good image. So. XGaster decided to adopt two different orphans.

Two because he wanted the children to raise each other instead of XGaster having to focus on them.

Cross however craved approvement and acceptance. He tried everything to be liked by his new father. He helped with the church stuff. Talked with people. Second all of XGaster's opinions. Anything to get him to like him.

It didn't help that Cross from a young age knew he prefered boys over girls. He just found them more fun. cute. and everything.

It didn't help that XGaster would sniff as he saw gay couples and mutter wbout how they would just become more lost and wandering spirits for their sins. (XGaster only spend time with likeminded and clsoeminded people.)

Cross made a show of only dating a few girls when he was younger. Thenwhy he hit puberty he went to the church with XGaster and made an oath to swear off all those sinful thoughts and ideas.

It worked. Xgaster would pay attention to him and include him more. While Cross's brother became more independed Cross grew more and more depended on Xgaster because he just wanted his approval and parental love. Cross never trully got either.

All that XGaster cared about was his image and Cross helped improve it.

Ironically. Cross's perfect little world came crashing down when he was forced to confront his own interests in the form of Dust.

Dust and Cross met when they were teens. Dust being 15 adn Cross 17.

Dust was pretty much a mess. He had been living on his own on the strees for 5 years at this point. But he also had this cheap van that he could already drive.

Cross was so interested and intrigued by Dust and just kept gravitating towards him.

The two over tiem got a bit of a casual relationship and friendship. Dust wouldn't call them friends friends but Cross, who hadn't ever had friends, did call them friends.

They would hang out. Cross would show him things of the church and Dust would show him rituals. how to talk with ghosts. how to help ghosts move on.

Dsut even once pulled Cross along on a trip to show him how to help spirits and how to calm them down.

Dust pretty mcuh pulled Cross out of the religious cult he had grown up in and showed him the other side of the wandering spirits. Showed Cross that they were worth so much more than just dismissal. (the only reason Cross was even willing to listen was because of his crush lmao)

But XGaster foudn out about them hanging out. and XGaster made it clear that Dust was a waste of space and that Cross won't interact with him anymore.

Cross... was confused... wasn't the church meant to help those who needed help? shouldn't they help Dust?

XGaster just called him a lost cause and left.

That was another crack in the facade of it all. Because Cross didnt believe dust to be a lost cause. Dust had a mission and did many things to help others. How is that a lost cause?

eventually dust left the city again, as he does. XGaster made a snide remark that Dust wanders already, much like those useless wandering spirits.

Cross worked at that same church for two more years before he just couldn't lie to himself anymore. he was miserable. He hated parts of himself thanks to xgaster. and he was so lonely.

Cross ended up running away.

and after a month he ended up in a different city where there was another church. Cross, who didn't know waht to do ended up going there. ashame of running away. ashamed of becoming a mess he is.

But... the priests there were understanding. They took him in and made sure he ate and rested.

Cross had found a new church were they did help the wandering spirits as well. They helped everyone who needed help, because no one deserves to be hurt.

Cross remained with them. took up with teachings and learnings and started over.

Later on he met dust again and realsied that dust would return to this city as well.

Cross saw it as a sign and remained right there. slowly healing under the much more gentle guidance from the people around him and the priests there.

And then later... he messed up the ritual and got stuck as ghost while killer took his body for a joyride.

[blues824]

💐Imagine female douma being isekai'd in the the word of the remarried empress but douma reader became royalty.

🌈She became royalty after the empress and emprorr adopted her because of a high priest told them that her parents died (like in the comic douma's mother killed her husband and mistresses after finding out her cheated of her then ended herself ) and the high priest believed that she was a child giftd by God so allowing her to become anything lower than a lady would be a insult to the gods.

💐Her being a manipulatieve girl who doesn't know emotions until she met navier then she became happy for the first time.

(This picture disribes douma pretty well)

💐(like they also grew up together with navier and sovieshu but had to wear a vail to cover up her face because the empress and emprorr believed she was a child giftd by God so she was only allowed to show her face after she became the empress but after a lot of asking navier was the only person who was alowd to see her face )

🌈Imagine after years she became a empress and was invited by navier to te new years party and navier and sovieshu seeing her after a long time and then rattrash trying to befriend her only to meet her worse nightmare a angry douma who hates mistresses because they are filthy and unworthy of her and navier.

💐(like the female douma was always being told she was a goddess but she knew it's not true but she just went with it and used it to her advantage )

🌈And burning the party where she tells navier she is alowd to take of her veil after the dress drama to get the negative attention away from navier because people get to see her face for the first time and after hearing rumours about her face and why she wore it now they understand why she got called a goddess.

💐(imagine navier and the douma reader dancing together 2 beautiful empress dancing together making people jealous about their beauty and status )

🌈Honestly douma's eyes are the most beautiful eyes and I know she can out drama rattrash because douma learnd to copy emotions she never had so imagine rattrash trying to use her crocodile tears again her but failing so hard because of douma's manipulatieve personality and her being able to figure out she was not really crying and because of sovieshu becoming a simp for douma him not beleving rattrash

And navier trovi is the best qween I have ever.

I showed my mom that picture and she said, “Oh hell no”.

As a preface, I’m changing up the request a bit. Reader was taken in by the High Priest, but since he is so busy the Imperial Family offered to raise her. She was raised alongside Sovieshu. We’re gonna forget that Krista exists and you were betrothed to King Wharton III (Heinrey’s brother).

Sovieshu was technically your adopted brother. His parents took you in because the High Priest asked, and who wouldn’t want to get on his good side? Plus, he said that you were a gift of the gods. If the Imperial Family had the chance to care for a child of the gods, they were going to take it.

He always knew that you were apathetic, what with not crying at funerals or rejoicing at weddings. No. Sure, he couldn’t see your expressions because of your veil, but he can read your body language just fine. He somewhat admired your ability to fake emotion through your body.

At some point, he developed a crush on you. You weren’t related at all, and you weren’t legally his sibling. The sad realization that you both were going to marry other people hit him like a truck. Someone else would be able to gaze upon your face, and it wasn’t going to be him.

When Navier invited you to the New Year’s Party, Sovieshu was excited. Sure, a lot has happened since you last saw each other, but surely you would be happy for him? Wrong. You, in fact, called him ‘a piece of trash for treating Navier like his father treated his mother’. He couldn’t even see your face, but he could feel the disgusted look you were giving him.

Speaking of tea being spilled, Sovieshu saw how you gracefully made your way to the dance floor. That is where you finally revealed your face. The Emperor watched as his wife walked up to you and asked for a dance. He had to admit that he was incredibly jealous that it wasn’t himself dancing with you.

Rashta has heard about you. It was hard not to. Your reputation precedes you as a ‘child of the gods’. Everyone knew about you, and everyone knew that you had never shown your face to the public. From the looks of it, you didn’t even show either the Emperor or Empress (the latter part wasn’t true, though).

She eavesdropped on one of Sovieshu’s and Navier’s supposed-to-be-private conversations and they were reminiscing about you. She was jealous because it seems as though the Emperor missed you the most. She quickly corrected herself because she didn’t want to offend the gods.

She asks around the palace to try and gather information about you. She is very curious, and most of the servants as well as visiting nobles seem to have good things to say about you. They really worshiped you as though you were a goddess yourself. 

When she finds out that Navier invited you to the New Year’s Party, she was excited. What she did not expect was for you to be introduced as the Queen of the Western Empire or for you to completely ignore her and Sovieshu and go straight to Navier. In fact, when you did get introduced to each other, your first statement was ‘I know who you are’. 

Rashta watched as you and Navier walked hand-in-hand to the dance floor. You both danced so beautifully. Then, the Empress gently lifted your veil. You smiled as everyone gasped. The young mistress was angry that all the attention was off of her and onto you. As you and Navier walked off the floor, you looked in Rashta’s direction, gave a little pout, and used a finger to signify a tear falling down your face. 

Navier was introduced to you when she was handpicked by the Emperor to marry Sovieshu. Everyone has heard of the Imperial Family volunteering to care for the child that the High Priest deemed a ‘child of the gods’, so she was excited to meet you. 

The four of you (you, Navier, Sovieshu, and Kosair) became close as children. You were betrothed to the (then) Crowned Prince of the Western Kingdom, Prince Wharton III. As a child, Navier was saddened at the prospect of you having to move such a long distance away. In private, you took off your veil and showed her as a seal to the promise that you both would remain close no matter what.

She knew about Sovieshu’s and Kosair’s crushes on you. She harbored no romantic interest in Sovieshu, so she was completely fine with it. In fact, she tried to push either one into confessing. No dice. At least you both stayed true to your promise and you wrote to each other quite frequently.

She always invited you to every New Year’s Party, but every single time your husband was sickly and you couldn’t attend. However, when you wrote to her saying you would be able to come, she was delighted. She sent a servant to tell her husband about the news as she got prepared for the party.

During said party, you noticed that the dress drama was getting to Navier, so you had a suggestion. You both would dance and she would lift your veil to reveal your face. The floor was cleared for the two of you, and you both danced gracefully. In the middle, Navier gently removed your veil as you smiled. She was shocked to see how much you had grown, but so glad she could see your beautiful eyes again.

Heinrey was your brother-in-law. You were betrothed to his older brother from a very young age, and when you both got married he noticed how you actually won the love of the people with hard work and dedication. You ruled with a stern fist, and he respected that about you. 

He was aware that the marriage between you and his brother was one of convenience, but not of union. You weren’t a child of the Eastern Empire, so you couldn’t unite the two countries. However, it was more of an act of goodwill, what with you being a child of the gods.

You treated him like a younger brother, but there was no emotion behind any of your actions. You did what made sense, what was most logical. You told him stories of your childhood in the Eastern Empire and of Navier, Sovieshu, and Kosair. It was then that he grew a fascination towards the Empress.

You were both invited to the New Year’s Party, but the invitations were a cause of laughter between you, your husband, and Heinrey. You were invited on Navier’s behalf, Heinrey was invited on Sovieshu’s behalf. Once arrived, the Crowned Prince of the Western Kingdom just awkwardly stood there (simping over Navier) while you gave the Empress a hug. You didn’t even bother to acknowledge the Emperor or his mistress.

Later on in the evening, the dance floor was emptied. Heinrey watched as you and Navier walked step-by-step towards each other until you met in the middle. The way you danced was as graceful as flowing water in a peaceful river. In the middle of the dance, she lifted your veil to reveal your face. It was the first time the Prince saw your face at all, let alone seeing pure joy being expressed by you. Did his Queen have the same effect on you?

Bonus: Kosair was introduced to you when Navier was handpicked by the Emperor to marry Sovieshu. All the noble families knew how the Imperial Family took you in and volunteered to raise you in place of the High Priest. Even though he already hated the Prince, he had to admit that he was excited to meet you.

He never noticed your apathetic personality because you were really good at faking your emotions through your voice and your body language. He wasn’t permitted to see your face, so he wasn’t able to see your expressions. However, he probably wouldn’t have noticed the fake smile you always wore.

You were a marvel to him. Even without seeing your face, you made him fall in love with you. When the news came that you were betrothed to the Crowned Prince of the Western Kingdom, he was devastated. Navier had to hold him back from doing anything that could tarnish the family’s reputation.

After the Imperial Family’s New Year’s Party, you had written to Kosair saying that you were in-town and would love to see him before you had to go back home. Once he had received the letter, he was in the palace the next day. He asked to be led to your chambers and you gave him a hug upon seeing him. You spent the majority of the day just catching up.

It was then where he confessed the feelings he had harbored for you for years. You, not really feeling anything, faked your sadness. You explained that if you had known sooner, you would have fought all you could so that you could marry him instead of your actual husband. Great job, Y/N. You made him mentally beat himself up even more.

Bonus: Grand Duke Kaufman was introduced to you formally while he visited the Western Kingdom. However, like everyone else, he has previously heard about you and your connection to the gods. It intrigued him, to say the least. It’s not like every Imperial Family raises a child for the High Priest.

He had also heard how you ruled your Kingdom with a string and firm hand, leading your subject with wisdom beyond your years. You often had to step in place of the King, and you did it well. When he visited to talk about negotiations between Luipt and the W.K., you knew his language. He was both shocked and not.

Your words were calculated and you evaluated every option and their consequences. You both had decided that it was smarter to wait and negotiate with the Eastern Empire than to make a decision presently. That was when the messenger came in with 3 invitations for you, Kaufman, and Heinrey to go to the New Year’s Party.

At said party, the Grand Duke was surprised at how you only paid attention to the Empress rather than greeting the Emperor. In fact, the latter was also shocked. You called both Sovieshu and his mistress the ‘lowest of the low’ and told them how they should be ashamed of themselves.

Later on in the evening, Kaufman noticed how everyone vacated the dance floor. The music changed to a nice waltz, and you and Navier were the only ones in the center of the room. As you both danced, the Empress gently lifted your veil. He had never seen someone so beautiful, and it made him a tinge jealous of your husband. No wonder you were said to be a deity.

[thatsdemko]

paper rings- m. marner

masterlist

t-swift inspired works list

requested: n

pairings: mitch marner x reader

warnings: just Taylor swift song mention + incredibly short

a/n: still taking requests!

Kiss me once 'cause you know I had a long night

Kiss me twice 'cause it's gonna be alright

Three times 'cause I've waited my whole life

you watched your boyfriend, of three years, shake a martini for guests at a wedding. it was almost like it was his calling to be a bartender. you didn’t know how he even got behind the bar or what even happened for him to be in that place, but you know one thing was for sure. he was killing it.

“you love him don’t you?” you heard a voice from behind you. you didn’t realize how long you had been standing there, or even how long mitch had been making cocktails to even notice Auston Matthews was behind you the whole time.

“a warning would have been nice.” you moved out of the way of the other guests to the side of the bar, still able to see Mitch and for him to know you were there. he kept checking on you from time to time, but he was having the time of his life.

“sorry, I couldn’t watch you gawk at him for too long or else you might ruin the happy couples wedding.” Auston snorted, taking the drink mitch poured for him. you barely even got to open your mouth before mitch moved on and was working up a sweat.

you both watched for a bit longer before the bartenders finally got tired of Mitch’s overenthusiastic characteristics, and his ideas for shots. it wasn’t even two seconds you got him back before he was joining the fun.

“if you were to get married right now, would you do it?” Auston asked, nodding his head over in Mitch’s direction watching him hype up the bride. you knew your wedding would always be magical, but once you met mitch you didn’t care where you got married. you just wanted him.

“I’d marry him with paper rings if it meant I married him now.” the idea of marriage was always a topic of conversation when you got invited to weddings. you knew Mitch was the one since you met, and you had no question he would pop the question soon.

“well you’re in luck, I heard the priest is still here if you’re serious.” Auston pointed him out, the priest was talking to the parents of the bride. it almost felt like the stars were aligning, but you would never overstep someone else’s perfect day. you would wait for your own.

you shook your head turning to Auston, “no, I’ll have my own wedding some other time, Auston.” you shot a look at the dance floor that was turning into the tossing of the bouquet. someone else’s turn to get married next. you didn’t even hesitate to make your way to the dance floor or shove your drink into Auston’s chest.

you caught Mitch’s eyes with all of the other guys rooting(or disapproving) of their girlfriends wanting to catch the bouquet badly. you could hardly read what he was thinking, but you knew the look was not a nervous one.

you caught a glimpse of Auston whispering to Mitch, most likely about the conversation you just had, but the bouquet flying in the air right towards you snapped you out of your thoughts. before you even knew it the bouquet was in your hands. when you looked up from the beautiful arrangement of blue, white, and pink flowers you were met with Mitch’s excitement coming towards you.

“so? tonight? how does that sound?” he pulled you aside from all the jealous bridesmaids, upset guests, and fuming mother in laws.

“mitch, we don’t have rings.”

“then let’s use napkins. you said you’d marry me with paper rings, so let’s do it!”

Darling, you're the one I want

In paper rings, in picture frames, in dirty dreams

Oh, you're the one I want

[mothgodofchaos]

Maybe some platonic father figure Dark with a reader who is his half demon kid that got sent to stay with him due to the sudden emergence of their demon powers? It's okay if not

Family

So I was originally just going to make it Dark... but now you kinda got a whole ass household. Oops. Enjoy having gay dads!

Darkiplier x Wilford Warfstache, GN!Reader, TW: vague childhood trauma Words: 905

You were unceremoniously dumped on your father’s doorstep with your things, your mother no longer wanting anything to do with you. The last time you saw him, you were maybe in… kindergarten? It’s been years since then, and you’re not even sure he’ll recognize you. Your mother constantly would badmouth him all the time, clearly bitter from the divorce. But you had trouble believing that he was truly that bad, especially since anyone else’s accounts of him always spoke the opposite of him. 

You’re not even able to knock on the door before someone opens it. He’s a flashbang of vibrant color, even with a pink mustache to match.

“Oh dear! Damesies, it’s one of yours!”

He calls back behind him, and you hear quiet footsteps approach the door. There’s a faint ringing as a hand grips the door, pulling it back to reveal a second man. He looks shocked to see you, looking you over. He doesn’t look at all different from how you remember him, if anything a bit older looking. Your eye catches matching wedding bands on their hands, and you take a brief moment to wonder if your father got remarried.

“Dearheart? Why are you here?”

He peers past you into the driveway, just to be met with a middle finger from your mother as she speeds away. He sighs, placing a hand on your shoulder and helping you get your bags inside.

“I should have known this day was coming�� she tried to change you. I told her it would not work, but she never listens.”

“Change the… demon thing?”

“Yes, sweetheart. She used to have priests and nuns babysit you, and you would just scream until your throat was hoarse. Eventually all the local churches refused to look after you, and several of them had reported your mother.”

“Wow… I- don’t remember that.”

“That is perhaps for the better. Wil, could you possibly show them to their room?”

“Of course! Papa Wilfie will handle everything!”

You turn around and your stepfather is gone, along with all of your bags. You turn around back to your dad, all of the emotions of being reunited and abandoned hitting you all at once. He sees the change in your face, opening his arms to you.

“Hey, it will be alright. You are safe here, you always will be.”

You are accepted warmly into his arms, holding you tight to make up for all the years of missing you. He doesn’t let go until you do, knowing you badly need this hug, not knowing the last time you felt love from a parent.

“Wilford is my husband, we have been married for quite a few years. You do not have to refer to him as anything if you do not wish to, but know he will care for you and handle whatever he can. He enjoys being rather involved. You will meet your adoptive brothers probably after dinner.”

“I have… brothers?”

“Yes, but go get your room setup. I will be in the kitchen if you need me.”

Dark kisses the top of your head, letting you run up the stairs to find Wilford.

“P-Pops-?”

“There you are, pumpkin! Got your room all set up with your things! Your bathroom is through that door there, and your closet through there. Although I would suggest not getting the two mixed up.”

He gives you an exaggerated wink with a laugh, letting you take in the sight of your room. It’s a bit bare, but you notice lots of photos on the walls of you and Dark when you were little. Stuffed animals sit on your dresser that you haven’t seen in years. You pick up a wolf stuffie, one that reminds you of the last day you saw him. He had given this to you, but it mysteriously disappeared a few days later. Considering its pristine condition, you wonder if your mother gave it back to him. You hug it close to your chest, tears forming in your eyes again. Wilford approaches behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Here, come sit down on the bed, pumpkin…”

He guides you to the bed, trying to not rush anything as right now, he’s not much more than a stranger to you.

“Would you like a hug? I’ve been told I give good ones?”

You nod, and you receive a soft side hug. A quiet, sad squeak emits from the action, although you’re not exactly sure where from.

“I know your father may not show it, but he has been so worried about you, sugarplum. And it may take a bit to get used to living here, but we won’t force anything on you. I especially won’t. I don’t know if Damien told you to call me that but-”

“N-No… I wanted to.”

Wilford’s eyes sparkle as he looks down at you, already so proud to be your pops. He hugs you a bit tighter, a hug you guess will become a familiar comfort to you.

“Well, I’m very proud to be your pops. And your father is very proud to be your dad, and never stopped loving you.”

“I was told I have, brothers?”

“Oh yes! And they may be a little eccentric at first, but they take that after me. Well, they both do, in different ways. They also take after your father in other ways. You’ll see.”

“I look forward to it.”

[maximotts]

𝙻𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎: 𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 & 𝙵𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚁𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑

a/n: yes this is a day late, I've had a week from hell and I'm not having a holly jolly holiday season. Hopefully this really long chapter makes up for it! Reminder that we've got a scheduled break for this series for two weeks ask I do holiday things (derogatory) and finish up my Christmas fic

✎— priest’s daughter!Wanda x college student!reader ✎— confessions AU; after Wanda gets some much needed help from a few friends, she prepares for her first date.. at Carol's house party. Ups and downs ensue, but you try your best not to ruin the rare night out ✎— warnings: this is an 18+ series, minors DNI; light sexual content with some?? angsty scenarios? more like tense situations; drinking; talks of sex toys; intimidation, but R comes to the rescue; more shameless groping; first kisses; brief make outs; hard conversations and Soft Tummy Wanda Time

✎— words: 7.5k

series masterlist. || main masterlist.

“I can’t embarrass her, I don’t know what I was thinking… see you Saturday! What an idiot!” Wanda had been laid out on Natasha and Agatha’s couch between the two women for the past half hour, angsting over the earlier exchange through tears she thought she’d finished shedding back in high school. “I’ll stay home, there’s no way I should go.”

Natasha spoke up first, having been the one to open the door to find her best friend’s twin sister fidgeting in the hallway. As soon as Nat opened her mouth, Wanda was crying, falling into the slightly shorter woman with all her weight. She brought her inside quickly, hauled her to the couch while Agatha made her tea; she hadn’t seen Wanda this distraught in years so whatever happened, Nat knew it had to have been bad. 

Her first instinct was to ask who did what and give them a piece of her mind, but Wanda never let her, always insisting that reactions just made everything worse. “There’s no way you aren’t going. You have to after all of that, or you’ll look cowardly.” 

“But Tasha!” Wanda shot up to her knees, all watery eyes and red-tipped nose, nearly hitting the redhead in the face, “No one wants me there! And Carol was right.. I can’t dress like this.”

She’d never given much thought to what she wore; her dad didn’t let her wear anything too revealing growing up and when none of her mall trips were with friends instead of him, Wanda’s closet wasn’t exactly filled with each year’s trendy clothes. In college, she stayed with the familiar and dressed comfortably— now she feared you’d just been polite every time you paid her a compliment. 

“There’s one person that wants you there!” Agatha chimed in, righting Wanda’s skirt where it’d twisted around in her distress. She’d been assigned Natasha’s roommate in their first year of college; in their second, they’d moved into an apartment together off campus and when Wanda took up residence down the hall for their third, Natasha warned her that Wanda had been heavily sheltered and sometimes needed that extra bit of attention and care. 

Honestly, Agatha thought her friend was exaggerating, having met Pietro once or twice and not sensing anything off, but Wanda was a special case. Still, the younger girl was one of the kindest people she’d ever met and she enjoyed whenever she popped over for a chat. “And anyways, I think you look adorable.”

She was trying to help, but instead she only proved Carol’s point. Wanda groaned and fell back once more, head buried in the cushions, “I’m twenty years old, adorable isn’t going to cut it.”

The two older girls shared a look, Natasha’s worried while Agatha’s turned mischievous. Nat knew that look from the beginning of Agatha’s schemes and protectiveness kicked in anew. “Agatha.. I don’t think I like that look.” 

She brushed her friend off with a scoff, prodding at Wanda’s ragdoll state until she could wrench her upright once more. Unlike Natasha, she hadn’t grown up with them all, but from the day she met Wanda, Agatha saw a project. Now that she finally had an in, she wouldn’t pass it up. Especially not when it was for a good cause, “You wanna be hot, is that it? You want your new crush to see you and not be able to keep her hands off you?”

That shook Wanda to attention, cheeks beet red. Sure she didn’t want to be mocked or subject you to any torment just being seen with her, but she couldn’t imagine you wanting all of.. that from her of all people. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought of it, but whenever she did, she tried her hardest to shake that seemingly impossible reality away, “No, I-”

“So when you show up to that party dressed like you belong there, it’s because you want to hold her hand?” Natasha laughed, pinching Wanda on the cheek because she knew how much she hated it. Maybe Agatha was right; a little push might be good for Wanda, at least to give her a chance to try. “Have her push you on the swings?”

This was not the conversation Wanda wanted to have today, not when she couldn’t even take the first step to kiss you. Needing to keep her mind from that spiraling train of thought, she spun around to face Natasha now, pouting hard, “I’m not a baby, be real!” 

Agatha tugged at Wanda’s dress gently, pulling at the material and letting the skirt fall back to her thighs. “Admit you want to stop looking like the poster child for an abstinence pamphlet and start dressing for a strip club and we’ll help you.”

“That is not what I want.” Reminders of some of the outfits she’d seen her peers wear flashed in her head with red alarm sirens; they’d be sure to catch your eye, seen you on Instagram with similar girls dancing and laughing without a care in the world. Beautiful as they were, that just wasn’t her. Wanda couldn’t turn into a new person overnight, nor did she want to. If she got new clothes, they had to be things she actually wanted to wear. Things you’d like on her. “I want her not to be embarrassed to be seen with me. I want her to kiss me, to flirt with me even though I wouldn’t have the faintest idea what I’m doing! I want her to like me.”

Agatha backed off, sighing and taking one of Wanda’s shaking hands in her own. “I’d bet money she already likes you; you’re lovely and it sounds like you two already spend so much time together.” Neither her nor Natasha wanted Wanda to be so down on herself; there was no need to be, considering how, from the picture Wanda painted, you were plenty into her. Telling her outright might scare her though; it was always baby steps with the poor dear. “All you need to do is show her you’re interested and a little wardrobe change never hurt anyone. If you hate it, you still have your old clothes, no harm done.”

Wanda nodded, staring down at her lap until Natasha grabbed her chin and forced her to look up. “Come on, cheer up, you won’t have that much work to do. You’re beautiful already,” Nat cupped Wanda’s cheek, booped her nose before pushing her dress down to reveal bare shoulders. “And I’ve seen you in a bathing suit, you’ve got legs for days and gorgeous tits-”

“Hey!” Wanda jumped as Natasha gave them a squeeze, instantly self-conscious. There was a night a few days ago, one of your lazy nights when you laid your head in her lap while she read an article off her tablet for extra credit, where you did the same thing. Softer than her friend just now, a singular slow touch. 

She looked down, naively thinking a stray hair on her shirt was the cause, but when she asked you only grinned and reasoned they looked too soft not to touch and went back to watching your show. Wanda decided to keep how tingly the action made her feel away from her two friends for now; they’d never let her live it down. “Just help me pick what to wear on Saturday.”  

As soon as Wanda conceded, Agatha was up and searching for her laptop, “Oh, we can do so much more than one night’s something!”

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

The days leading up to the party were filled with Wanda reassuring not only herself, but also you that she was perfectly fine to go. It was sweet how you worried about her, checking in at least once a day to make sure she knew there was no obligation to show up or prove anything to anyone. 

Wanda appreciated the sentiment, but she wanted to like parties, to go and have fun with you somewhere other than your living rooms for once. Only on Friday, opening the package of clothes she’d bought under Nat and Agatha’s guidance, that she nearly wavered, but when Maria Hill wandered up to where you were eating lunch and whispered something in your ear scandalous enough to make you blush, Wanda’s jealousy wouldn’t let her back out. 

You didn’t mention that you’d caught her pouting, kept that tidbit to yourself for fun. Instead you smiled and flirted right back, ignoring Wanda’s clearly grumpy demeanor. It wasn’t nice, you shouldn’t have done it when the only girl you cared about was the one who’d made the lovely wrap you’d been eating before you got interrupted. 

Once she was gone, you tried smoothing it over with a hug and an apology, but Wanda was smart enough to see right through it, shoving you hard back into your chair and calling your behavior gross. She was still huffy when you left her that afternoon, half expecting her to call off your plans, but she only mumbled out a warning not to be late and shut the door in your face. You only parted for a short while, but in that time, Wanda had a lot to do; she’d been nervous enough without having seen Maria’s little display.

As she sat at her desk, willing a steady hand to apply the eyeliner she so rarely wore, her brain fell back on what it did best: overthink. Visions of the two of you arriving as a pair, just for you to leave her as soon as you found someone better to dance with or talk to, or worse, the whole party being a front for some long game joke, poked at her fragile determination. You’re being annoyingly irrational, she scolded herself, recalling instead the times you stood up for her or held her hand when you crossed the street. Sure, Wanda might have issues with the easy way you lead some of the girls in your classes on, but she refused to let her mind turn you into something you’d never hinted at being. 

The brunette checked the time on her phone before sliding her outfit over her head and as she popped her head and shoulders through the top, her eye caught the device screen light up on its own, a message from you appearing. Wanda read over your cutely apologetic words with a smile, laughing at the I’m sorry sticker attached and quickly typed a response promising forgiveness if you bought her coffee next week. To which you readily agreed and gave her one last minute reminder that you wouldn’t be mad if she decided in the past hour she wasn’t keen on seeing anyone she didn’t want to. No, you weren’t like Carol or Brock, nowhere close to Vision; Wanda didn’t think you could be if you tried.

You were right on time, wanting to tread lightly in case Wanda’s text was more her being polite than actually over your lunch shenanigans, knocking briskly even though you’d texted her you were coming as you locked your apartment door. You expected she’d maybe do her hair and makeup differently, something to fit the night; what you didn’t expect was a whole new Wanda opening the door. “Woah…”

The black dress hugged Wanda’s curves perfectly, accentuating places you’d only felt briefly before. She’d worn sleeveless dresses around you, but this strapless design wrapped around her arms paired with the long hair she’d tied back into a ponytail revealed her neck and shoulders completely… you realized you’d been staring too long when Wanda waved a shy hand in front of your stunned face. “Do I look okay? I think I have enough time to change-”

“Don’t you dare.” You tugged Wanda out the door before she could continue second guessing. And then, being the reassurance you didn’t know Wanda needed so terribly, you slung your arm around her, mostly in an excuse to touch newly exposed skin, speaking loud enough she was sure the whole floor could hear you, “You look hot and if anyone tells you different, they’re lying through their teeth.” 

Hearing that, Wanda already felt like she’d call tonight a win.

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

From the moment you stepped through the door, Wanda garnered attention. Not that everyone flew to her side immediately; most didn’t recognize her and if they did, they didn’t know where to even start talking. Most people she went to school with left her alone, a select few people having crafted and weaved stories about the brunette that meant everyone tended to keep their distance. Wanda didn’t mind, really she preferred it; amongst her peers she was completely out of her depths. Small high school gatherings were intimidating enough, and college only added more to the attendance list.

 If you minded her clinging to your side you didn’t say it, relaxed and talking to whoever you pleased all while checking in on Wanda every few minutes. To her credit, Wanda did engage in conversation occasionally, commenting or laughing when something was funny enough. Sitting down, Wanda thought she’d get more time to talk to you, not about anything specific but just to keep your attention. You weren’t brushing her off, no, you were actively listening, nodding your head, everything… but she wanted you sitting closer, asking her to dance, anything.

Wanda wondered if maybe she was going about it the wrong way, working up confidence to ask you herself when mid-sentence, Maria plopped herself down in your open lap and wrapped her arms around your neck. “Hey you…”

For the first time tonight, Wanda felt ignored, her presence non-existent to the grinning girl who so easily disrupted the conversation. You didn’t play into her like you did at lunch, having learned your lesson that an angry Wanda wasn’t a Wanda you wanted to focus your way, but you didn’t want to be rude or cause a scene so you let her stay put for now and hoped Wanda didn’t hold it against you later. “A few of us are gonna play a little game upstairs if you want to join in?”

Wanda watched your face light up, seemingly ignorant to how much the other girl already reeked of alcohol. You loved a good party game, nodding your agreement without a second thought. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, we’ll be right up.”

“Oh yeah...” Maria finally glanced over, a pitying pout on her lips that Wanda felt the strangely aggressive urge to slap off. “Wanda, have you played Never Have I Ever?” The answer was a big resounding no and all three of you were well aware, a game she’d seen countless times on television and never sat down to play. You followed Maria’s lead, sizing up Wanda, but out of compassion rather than anything else. 

In that split minute of silence, Wanda had two choices: be honest and back out or rely on her limited knowledge, go with you, and hope for the best. Maybe she’d have chosen the former if she could read your thoughts, know for sure you wouldn’t leave Wanda alone down here amidst strangers and wisps of smoke— but she didn’t.

“Of course I know how to play, don’t be silly!” The answer was enough for Maria who stood with a wobble and pulled your hand to follow, but your eyes stayed firmly stuck on Wanda. Her words might’ve been confident, but lacquer-polished fingers played with her new array of metal rings and you instantly knew she was lying. You wouldn’t call her bluff in the present company, but your furrowed brow gave away your worries. Wanda tried smoothing them away with a smile, polite as ever, beaming up at Maria who stood in front of you, annoyed that you hadn’t yet budged. “Like she said, we’ll be right up.” 

Maria shrugged, not caring enough to disinvite Wanda upstairs. If she wanted to make a fool of herself, she wouldn’t stop her. “Five minutes or we’re starting without you.” 

Left on your own for the time being, Wanda sprung to her feet  and fixed her dress, letting out a deep breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. It was your turn to take her hand, stopping her in case Wanda decided to sprint up the stairs without you. You did want to play with her, but not if she felt it was an obligation instead of a fun way to pass the time. “Do you really want to? I won’t be mad down here if that’s better.”

“It’s fine!” Heartwarming, really, and Wanda appreciated your sincerity, but you’d never see her as anything other than a friend to be babysat if she didn’t attempt to participate. At least, that’s what Agatha said. Besides, if it was anything like the movies, you could learn things about each other that Wanda was too shy to ask outright. “I want to play! It’ll be fun, please?”

“Wands…” You couldn’t say no to her, not when she looked so excited, swinging your arm back and forth in her hands and adding a pretty please to sway you further. There was a promise you made right then, silently to yourself, to be right next to her and not let things get too out of hand; it couldn’t be that bad under careful supervision.

Supervision you failed to remember would falter as soon as alcohol hit your system.

The game was enjoyable… until Wanda caught on to the point of the game, everyone taking shots and sharing scandalous stories while she was left with nearly all her fingers up. She’d taken exactly one finger down when Carol tried to put her on the spot with “never have I ever bought a vibrator offline” and she prayed the shot she was finally allowed to take dulled her embarrassment quickly. No luck.

“Can I see it some time?” Wanda nearly jumped to her feet when you leaned over, chin resting on her shoulder like you had so many times before. You’d had no problem with the game, only one finger left; a fact Wanda had to keep reminding you of after the double shots you’d taken. 

She pushed you off and you frowned, but let her have her space, your dejected expression nearly pitiful enough Wanda almost felt bad for doing so. Then she remembered the question lingering in the air, the small group going quiet and watching your exchange play out, and suddenly the gentle rejection didn’t feel like nearly enough admonishment. “Why would you want to?”

You shrugged lazily, straightening up as you realized you were the only two left in the game. It was rare you lasted this long, to your recollection at least; Wanda’s nine remaining fingers meant she was unbeatable though. Such an innocent thing… you wished she’d be your innocent thing. Alcohol loosened your tongue, spiraling thoughts of Wanda carefully unboxing the toy as she did with all of her packages bubbling to the surface, running it over in her hands with that adorable scrunched up face she made whenever she focused, experimenting with the various settings. “Just to see how you use it.” 

If you weren’t so inebriated maybe you’d have the presence of mind to keep your words a whisper, but if everyone’s laughs were anything to go by, the entire room heard. Wanda begged to blink and open them to exist anywhere but here, “You’re disgusting.” Basic flirting was hard enough; the last thing she wanted to do was have your first discussion about sex toys while there were people judging her every move.

“What’s the matter, Wanda? Bought it and couldn’t figure out how to use it?” Carol sneered, taking a swig of the vodka she’d brought up for the game straight from the bottle. Wanda wanted to fight her on it, but she couldn’t without exposing some of her most private times and well, they’re called private for a reason. 

The blonde turned to you then, “I thought you wanted to fuck her… shame she hasn’t let you yet.” Wanda whipped around, her worst fears threateningly close to being the truth, but you looked just as shocked.

Maria joined in before you could tell Carol to take it back, leaning across you to really make sure Wanda heard, “You know there’s tons of videos that’ll show you how. All that studying you do, wouldn’t kill you to research something sexy once for a change.” Sober enough to deem that over the line, you pushed Maria away before she could continue her taunts, but words weren’t so easily taken back. Wanda was already mortified beyond belief and you were ashamed it was mostly your fault. 

If clinging to you to hide the stinging tears budding at the corners of her eyes wouldn’t cause more attention, Wanda would’ve fallen into your shoulder in an instant. Not that she was particularly happy with you right now, but what other comfort did she have? Your expression screamed an apology Wanda wasn’t ready to immediately accept and she flicked your forehead in warning, “Don’t say a thing.”

You relented with a sigh, still disappointed with yourself, but resolving to do everything in your power to make up for it. But all Wanda wanted was this terrible game over with, anything to get her out of this cramped room full of people who regarded her like a party trick. Her one advantage was being the last to put a finger down, her turn to announce an action and choose one of the many things you’d done that she’d never gotten close to. Whatever she said would scream innocence, but at this point she couldn’t bring herself to care; Wanda needed you out so she could “win” and get far away from here. “Never have I ever kissed a girl.”

You weren’t fully drunk, buzzed enough to be careless, but not to ignore what everyone was saying. Stupidly, you’d taken Wanda’s earlier insistence to play as an excuse to do so just as hard, personal promise forgotten little by little with each shot you threw back, but one look at her clear distress was sobering. Wise decision making wasn’t your strong suit though, drunk or not. 

She wasn’t that far away, close enough to kiss— so you did, leaning forward until your hands rested on either side of her folded legs. The moment your lips met, the little audience went wild, but you kept it short, only wanting to help, not embarrass her. “Silly girl, you can’t pick something you’ve done. Still won though, not bad for your first time.” 

Wanda was stunned, frozen in place even as everyone broke their circle formation to clean up. Instincts screamed to pull you in for another one, but she knew she shouldn’t. You’d done it to make up for the earlier mess you’d started; you wanted to be nice, not spend your night sharing kisses she couldn’t reciprocate. It was only for the sake of everyone else, to temporarily shut them up… a first kiss to placate and entertain.

When you looked at her again, Wanda saw the beginnings of pity and she couldn’t stand it, not from you. Especially not after that. “I’m going to grab a soda, I’ll be downstairs.” 

“Did you want me to go with-” She was up and out before you could get a word in and you sighed, standing slowly to save your head some pain. “Great, see you down there…”

Going off by herself was near the very bottom of Wanda’s smart ideas, but she didn’t have it in her to explain, to pretend to be okay when she wanted to shake you and ask why’d you be so stupid at the worst possible time. 

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

Everything happened in a series of threes, good or bad; her father lived by that philosophy. The second Brock wandered into the otherwise empty kitchen, having been seeking her out, Wanda started believing him. First the never have I ever experience from hell, second, you playing said game, and now this way too drunk man stumbling closer; Wanda was more than ready for a good streak any time now.

“Wanda! There you are!” His words were slurred, strung together so messily Wanda wondered if he’d remember in the morning that he’d actually smiled at her. She tried to ignore him, looking at any variety of kitchen accessories she spotted around the room, but Brock was never one to be quiet when given space to speak. “Praying away your first kiss all alone in here?”

“You know that’s not how that works.” Wanda rolled her eyes, taking a step back only to meet the cold kitchen counter. And again, Brock came closer. 

In a perfect world he wouldn’t intimidate her, not even a foot away, his obnoxiously loud laughter pushing his alcohol soaked breath her way, but she couldn’t help it, instinct inching her farther even as his big steps closed the distance. “What I do know is how rude it is to leave someone in the dust right after they kiss you. You ran off so quickly!”

Wanda’s hands tightened around her soda can, denting the aluminum as she counted down however long she had left to endure this. “I didn’t kiss you, it’s none of your business.”

“I could have once, remember?” Unnerved as she was, Wanda still hit Brock’s hand away as quickly as his calloused fingertips grazed her cheek, a hard slap that faded his smug grin into a glower. “You’re just too good at running away.”

“Hands off, Rumlow.” Where you’d come from Wanda didn’t know, but she was never more relieved to see you. It took you longer than you wanted to admit navigating the house, asking first if anyone had seen your date and then, where the kitchen was. Finding her just in time is what mattered most, speeding across the kitchen to put space between Wanda and your classmate slowly, but surely crowding her in. 

You hadn’t heard their conversation, but it didn’t matter. There were exactly zero scenarios you could imagine Wanda willingly talking to Brock, much less with him as close as he was. Boorishly, he raised his hands in the air, backing away without nearly enough shame as he should’ve. “What, is she your girlfriend now? Like, for real?”

Wanda didn’t speak up to correct him, but neither did you, still unsure what you called someone you’d fantasized about more than acted on those with. This was Brock you were talking about though, and he out of anyone didn’t need to know another bit of information about Wanda than he already did.

Ignoring an answer, you held Wanda similarly to how you had a few days ago, arms about her waist, but this was more possessive, more urgent—  another spectacle Wanda longed to hate, but the security your embrace offered left her swooning. She would die happy if she could stay in your arms like this forever; just preferably not in Carol’s kitchen. “Why, jealous?” 

Your hand on her ass should’ve made her cringe; if it was anyone else, maybe she would, but this left her knees weak. To your shock, Wanda didn’t move and Brock’s hazy eyes bounced between the two of you, not willing to fight for someone he didn’t deem worth the effort. “Of your newfound celibacy? No thanks.”

“Well fuck off then, find someone else to piss off.” When you kissed her cheek, it was equal parts to drive him away as it was to calm Wanda’s nerves and by some miracle, it worked for both. Once he disappeared from view, you offered her another, two in succession when she didn’t twist away. “Sorry for taking forever, couldn’t find you… you’re really fast, you know.”

“The game was over so I left.” Wanda tossed her empty and squashed can into the pile atop the overfilled trash can nearby, needing her hands free to affectionately pat your arms. She expected you to let her go again, but you only held tighter. “What-”

Turning Wanda around, you leant against the counter, bringing her with you until she had no choice but to settle between your legs. “You have a cute ass,” Two hands cupped her backside now, squeezing covered flesh as if there weren't dozens of people that could walk in at a moment’s notice. “Why didn’t I know that?”

“Because you hardly look at me,” the brunette mumbled, willing herself to relax as you touched her. You only acknowledged her with a low hum, burying your nose in the crook of her neck, sighing as you caught the familiar light floral scent of her perfume. Curious fingers skirted over her hip, following the tight hem of Wanda’s dress along her upper thigh. She shuddered against you, fingers tugging at your shirt, grounding herself as she wiggled against your front. Wanda hadn’t expected to enjoy such shameless groping, but tonight was just full of surprises. 

You’d be more than happy to spend the rest of your time here, exploring her at your leisure, all else forgotten, but your dream was over way too soon. The tired girl wormed her way out of your grasp, instantly missing your warmth, but needing to stop before you were discovered. She wanted to be the type not to care who caught you, wanted to let you hold her tight and kiss her hard right here in the kitchen, but her nerves got the better of her. “You’re drunk, don’t do that here.”

You could insist you weren’t that drunk, completely sober enough to know exactly what you’re up to, but you’d already pushed your luck being so bold after embarrassing her earlier. “Here? Sooo.. you’d let me do it somewhere else?” 

Wanda ignored her hopes soaring at the prospect of you wanting to try again. Not for show or to shut anyone up, but because you wanted her. You saw it on her face, pupils blown wide and fidgeting hands; the girl wore her emotions on her sleeve, and damn if you didn’t want to convince her to let you drag her upstairs to some unoccupied room and have your way with her, but you tried to make peace with just knowing Wanda didn’t completely shut the idea down.

 “I don’t know! Maybe…” This wasn’t the place to discuss how much she craved your touch, much less her feelings on the matter; for Wanda, parties weren’t right for anything she needed right now. Suddenly Wanda felt overwhelmed all over again, brain scrambled and wanting too many unrelated things at once, and the loud bass and equally loud house was too much. 

She’d given it a real effort for you and it wasn’t all bad, but trying to fit in with a group of people who thrived on being high school mean girls even into adulthood? Wanda didn’t want to play that game and as much as she wanted to trust you, she couldn’t take anything you did around them seriously, uncertain if this was all just to show off or genuine interest. “I think I’m going to go…”

You couldn’t say it caught you off guard, not with how the night had gone. Hours ago when you’d first seen her, Wanda stood tall, happy and excited for her first real party; taking in her slumped shoulders and turned down gaze broke your heart. You hoped your disappointment didn’t show because none was for her, all towards you instead, feeling like you’d failed at every turn to keep her safe and relaxed. “There’s no way I’m letting you walk across campus alone in the middle of the night.”

“Well I can’t be here anymore, I’m done.” Staying in this house a minute longer made Wanda want to throw up; she wanted the cozy familiarity of her apartment and her bed, to sleep until tonight was a far off memory. She hadn’t come with much thankfully, only her keys you’d kept tucked safe in your jacket, but you tucked the pocket behind you as she went to reach for it.

“I never said you couldn’t leave,” Stepping forward, you took Wanda by the hand, but didn’t tug her closer, trying to let her have her space even when you wanted to give her the hug she looked like she so badly needed. If Wanda was leaving then you would too, having lost your interest in the party as soon as you saw hers vanish upstairs. “I’m walking you home.”

Guilt crept in quickly and Wanda instantly tried reassuring you, but you wouldn’t hear it, determined not to let her walk off this time. She was upset, you’d seen it on her before, a dark cloud dampening her naturally cheery demeanor; you wouldn’t leave her like that again. “You’re the hottest girl here, I’d rather spend time with you anyways.”

“Alright, but I’m going to bed.” Wanda hit your shoulder, turning her back to you before her smile gave her away. ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

It was cold outside with autumn rolling in, but Wanda was grateful for the quiet. The walk back to your building was short in theory, but grew longer with the brunette doing most of the navigation. You were just a bit too distracted to focus on where you were going, but you’d always remember to follow Wanda anywhere. While dragging along behind her, your eyes remained firmly stuck on her bare shoulders, illuminated whenever you passed under a streetlight, and when you caught her shivering, you were quick to rush in. 

“Are you cold?” She wasn’t for long between your engulfing hug and the heat bursting through her body as your lips kissed along the expanse of exposed skin. It was impossible to walk like this, your hands splayed over her stomach as you clung to her from behind, preoccupied with the new opportunity to touch her rather than getting inside. 

Wanda tried anyways, steps heavy on the sidewalk as she took your weight with her. “I won’t be cold if you let us go home.” She was right of course, often was, but it didn’t stop you from staying attached to her the rest of the way. 

You’d run to the bathroom as soon as she unlocked the door and Wanda made a beeline for her bedroom— where she’d forgotten all about the short white nightgown she’d laid out right before she left. An outfit change planned for the version of her that returned from the party confident, a lot more drunk, and ready to fall in bed with you for a whole different reason than she was now. 

Frazzled, Wanda grabbed the satin garment and shoved it to the back of her closet until it was hidden from view. Her typical safe pajama set was the new choice, shedding her party dress to pull loose shorts over her hips, buttoning the last button on her top just as you emerged from the bathroom. 

Letting you do whatever you needed to do to be ready for bed, Wanda went to the kitchen, pouring glasses of water and picking up her bottle of ibuprofen she knew you’d need in the morning. When she returned, you were already under the covers, head against the headboard and absentmindedly scrolling your phone. “Glad to see you made yourself comfortable.”

You expected her to say more, either talking about the night or give you some random fact as she sometimes did, but after Wanda was firmly in bed, lights off, not even the television on, the typically comfortable silence between you two felt suffocating. “You’re being quiet.” 

“I’m quiet a lot.” She said it plainly, not even a hint of emotion behind her words and when that was all, you had to do something about it. Sitting up once more, you scooted over until you were sat in front of her, sizing up the worry rolling off of Wanda in waves. 

That nightgown was a painful reminder of how badly she felt she’d failed this whole party thing; there was no lingering high from buzzing events, no giggles or wandering hands like Natasha hinted might happen if she’d done any number of certain things. No, Wanda had run from you, pushed those wandering hands away, played off shoulder kisses as nothing short of an annoyance and now… now you weren’t touching her at all. If you went back to your place, she wouldn’t be surprised, but she dreaded being alone right now, left not only to wallow in self-pity, but properly unkissed. It was all too miserable to say aloud. 

You waited until she conquered her visible hesitation, but when Wanda sighed, more interested in fidgeting with her blankets than speaking up, you decided it was time to step in with reassurance. “You did really well tonight. I hope you know you really didn’t have to come with me, but I’m happy you did and you looked beautiful.”

Wanda gave a bitter chuckle, shaking her head in disbelief, “You’re not upset you had to watch me all night and make sure I wasn’t completely falling apart?”

“What? No! I had a good time!” A different time than what you were used to, but not bad. Really you didn’t mind looking out for her, felt honored she even trusted you to do so. You’d gone home with the best person in that place; you’d love to be doing something different with her right about now to round out your night as usual, especially when you could easily remember how soft and warm Wanda felt against you, but you didn’t want to push her. Except… “Hey Wanda?”

She picked at the stray lint she could barely make out amongst her sheets, trying not to dread whatever else came out of your mouth next, “Yeah?”

“I liked kissing you earlier.” It was the truth, simply put between your exhaustion and intoxication, but honest nonetheless. “Was that really your first time?”

“Well…” She thought about it, wondering long and hard if she could count the years old close call that stuck in her head in her worst thoughts. No, Wanda wouldn’t pay that any mind. “Yes, it was.”

“Oh..” Before you could second guess anymore, you inched closer, leaning in until your faces were inches apart. Wanda was tired, that much was clear, but her eyes still stayed wide, gaze locked on your lips as she licked her own. If the desperation was mutual, one of you might as well do something about it. “Would you like a second?”

Wanda paused, not because she didn’t want it, she did so terribly badly, but it scared her. All of this, you, scared her. What if you changed your mind? If you only kissed her before to be nice, what did this count as? Back there, you’d been so quick about it, a peck to end the game in your own mischievous way; this time you were free to carry on and she had no idea how to handle that. Were you about to find out she’s a terrible kisser? 

While her thoughts raced, you sat back, giving her space to decide properly. You wanted to kiss her, sure, and with any other girl maybe you would’ve just taken it, but with the careless way you’d taken her first, you couldn’t let Wanda’s second be something she woke up regretting. “You can say no, I won’t be mad-”

In a split second, your world went black, Wanda crashing into you with a strength you didn’t know she had. Her lips were clumsy against yours until you took over, shock dissipating as everything that was Wanda clouded your senses. She’d had enough pushing you away for one night. Here in the privacy of her bedroom, if you really wanted to kiss her, she’d freely admit she needed you to do so. 

Wanda’s arms wound loosely around your neck, acclimating herself to the feel of your kiss. You were slow and inviting, skirting the tip of your tongue along her bottom lip so gently Wanda didn’t say a thing about your hands drawing up her bare legs. Eventually, you eased her back until she laid reclined, deft fingers undoing the bottom few delicate buttons of her pajama set. 

“It’s not fair how sweet your lips are…” You chased her as she broke for air, shifting your weight to kneel between her legs; Wanda was about to ask you what you meant when you slipped. Still lacking all of your coordination, you leaned too close to the edge of the mattress, falling to the floor with a loud thud. When you regained your senses, Wanda’s laughter hit you before anything, loud and uninhibited, and as much as your head ached, you found yourself laughing right along with her.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry but…!” Wanda could barely breathe she was laughing so hard, your dramatic pout way too exaggerated to be real. You looked so pitiful curled up on the floor, rubbing the side of your head; she wanted to kiss you all better. “Come on, come up here. You need to go to sleep.”

You might’ve protested harder if the brunette wasn’t holding out her arms, covers pulled back to let you climb right in. It was an uncoordinated scramble from the carpet into her bed, but Wanda pressed a little kiss into your hair, smoothing it over before guiding you down. “At least I don’t have to sleep down there…”

Head laid heavy on her midsection, snuggled into what felt like the warmest blankets of your life in your drunken state, exhaustion hit you like a freight train. At some point Wanda’s hand snuck into your hair, brushing strays away from your face, nails lightly scratching at your scalp until your eyes fluttered closed. “You’re good at this for someone who’s never gone on nights out.”

“Pietro’s to thank for that,” Wanda laughed again and you heard it against your ear, the smooth, happy rumbling you’d missed all night. “Someone had to pull him back together before morning and it certainly wasn’t going to be dad. He always likes to remind me I’m twelve minutes younger, but I feel years older most of the time.”

She was a natural caretaker, always had been, especially after her mother died, but besides her family she’d never heard that type of compliment from anyone and it helped her relax in this otherwise unfamiliar territory. If nothing else, Wanda knew she could show her affection through some tried and true TLC, but looking after her loud and drunk brother was miles different from the clingy drunken behavior of the crush she’d just been making out with. If you weren’t so cute when you got sleepy, Wanda might’ve exiled you to the couch. 

After a while of nothing, Wanda unintentionally lulling you to sleep with the gentle stroke of her fingers on your head, her thoughts drifted again. “Was Carol right?”

“Hm?” It was too late to have any discussion past something silly, but from Wanda’s tone, you knew it was anything but and you prayed you could keep it together long enough not to look like a complete asshole.

“Did you only ask to hang out to see if you could have sex with me?” Wanda nearly bit her lip to bleeding in the long silence that followed, wavering between thinking you’d finally fallen asleep and convincing herself you were pretending just to avoid giving an answer. She thought about waiting but if that stupid game taught her one thing it was the way alcohol stripped you of all filters; she needed to know for sure, but she couldn’t look you in the eye to ask. Her dark bedroom was the perfect cover for questions she’d never be able to ask after tonight.

“No, of course not.” Truthfully, you hadn’t drunk enough to be anything past buzzed; you’d been stupid earlier for sure, but nothing extreme. If you wanted to lie, you could easily, but you’d never think of it. Not when you’d already let her down repeatedly. “You’re hot though, I would if you wanted me to.” 

“Oh… thank you?” Wanda stiffened and mentally you were kicking yourself, hoping she didn’t kick you out of her bed when you were so warm and cozy right where you were— but then you felt her thighs squirming against your midsection. You wanted to test your hunch so badly, but you knew better. Soon maybe, but not when you were both so painfully tired. Instead you hunkered down, pushed against her until she let you roll onto your stomach between her legs. 

Wanda’s sleep shirt made the perfect cover for her soft tummy, a pillow you were scared you’d miss next time you fell asleep on your own. You dotted it with kisses, mostly the area under the buttons you’d undone, a gentle show of gratitude  before laying your head back. “Mostly I wanted to see if you’re as cute up close. You are: mission accomplished.”

She wanted to shake you for calling her cute again, but it was too late to revert the conversation and she couldn’t exactly jump for her phone and text Natasha without looking obvious. Wanda sighed and settled for running her hands over your shoulders, hoping desperately her breathing stayed even enough to hide her personal panic. Soft snores finally made their way to her ears and her head fell back against actual pillows, waiting for anything to tell her how to make some kind of move. Talking wasn’t it, parties certainly weren’t it… Agatha’s advice was next up. Plan C, she’d called it— Wanda feared Plan C.

[celandeline]

Summer of Like // Farleigh Start x OC (31)

Farleigh and I fly back to England for Venetia’s funeral. I book us a hotel room a short drive from the church it’s being held at for two nights - the quickest turnaround time for a flight back home. Neither of us want to stay there longer than we have to.

Dressed head to toe in black, we sit at the back of the church. The pews are scattered with people - most of whom I don’t know. I spot some of the Henrys near the middle, and of course the Cattons at the front. I’d sort of expected Elspeth to greet us when we arrived, but so far no one’s spoken to us. Farleigh doesn’t seem surprised at all. 

“Do you know who all these people are?” I mutter under the music of the pipe organ so that only Farleigh can hear me. 

“James and Elspeth’s friends, mostly.” He mutters back. “I don’t know about those girls over there though.” He nods to our left. 

I subtly turn, glancing in the direction he nodded. I recognize a few of the faces - girls from Cambridge that had only pretended to be friends with Venetia because of her family name. None of them liked her really - they just liked her allowance. I scoff louder than I mean to, and a few of them turn to look at me. 

“Cambridge groupies.” I say.

Farleigh rolls his eyes. “I think we might be the only two people in this room who actually cared about her.”

A sad longing flares up in my chest, and I start crying. It’s really all I’ve been doing for the past week. I’ve started carrying around travel packets of tissues in my pockets. Farleigh pulls one out of his suit jacket and passes it to me. I wipe away my tears - black streaks of makeup come away with them. I have no doubt I look like a mess. 

“Okay?” Farleigh asks.

“Yeah.” I sniffle. “You?”

He nods as the organ swells, the song changing to a proper funeral dirge. My heart sinks as I hear the vestibule doors open behind us. Slowly, Venetia’s casket comes into view, a floret of dainty white flowers placed on top, ribbons streaming down the sides. My vision blurs with tears again, and I pull another tissue from the packet. I loved her. I really loved her. 

The congregation begins to sing as the pallbearers bring her up to the altar, where a priest awaits with open arms. A sob forces it’s way out of me, and I’m glad that the organ is loud enough to mostly mask it. Farleigh places a hand on the small of my back, steadying. 

“I really miss her.” I say, wiping at my face with another tissue. “I think I’ll miss her for the rest of my life.”

“I know.” He says, and I know he does. I can tell just by the sad way that he looks at me that he feels the same. Probably more, considering that he’d known her for much longer than a year. She was his sister in a way. 

I sniffle, forcing the snot trying to run out of my nose back. “I would have loved her.” I say, my voice falling hoarse. “If she’d let me.”

His free hand comes up to brush away a few tears from his face. “I know.”

I pass him a tissue, my attention returning to the front of the room as the priest begins the service. The words float in one ear and out the other. I really would have loved her - I think, since I met her, I’d always been a little in love with her. How could I not be, when she was as beautiful as she was pitiful? She was unlike anyone else I’d ever met. I could talk to her for hours at a time and not get bored. I should have never left her. 

My vision blurs, and tears drip off the end of my chin. 

“Please stand.”

I rise up from the pew as the organist plays the first few notes of a song. There’s a rustling of pages as the congregation ruffles through their songbooks, and then the singing begins, a dampened chorus. I don’t bother - if I try to sing right now, I know I’ll just end up sobbing. I’m so tired of crying. 

“There’s no fucking way.” 

Farleigh’s hiss draws my attention away from the altar, and I wipe my eyes. “What?”

“It’s fucking Oliver.” He almost snarls it, staring at the front of the church, where James and Elspeth are sat. I blink a few times, until my vision clears, and tilt my head so that I can see around the people in front of us. Sure enough, a few feet away from Elspeth, a small figure at the end of the pew. For a minute, it just look like anyone, but then he turns, and I would recognize those icy blues anywhere.

“What’s he doing with James and Elspeth?” I whisper. 

“I’ve no fucking idea.” Farleigh says, his stare filled with rage. 

“You don’t think he’s…?” I trail off, unwilling to even really entertain the idea. There’s no way that he’s still at Saltburn, not after Felix died. 

Farleigh just huffs out a spiteful laugh, and shakes his head. 

I don’t have time to really think about it before the song is coming to an end, and the priest rises from his seat, his voice booming out over the church. “In the name of the father… the son… and the holy spirit…”

“Amen.” My voice melds with the rest of the congregation. It sounds a lot like ‘I miss you’. 

&lt; previous post | next post >

[ammstify]

Late night thoughts but, y'know what I really love in media? Imperfect relationships.

And no I don't mean relationships where they argue a lot or don't completely click together.

One of the tropes that I happen to dislike is the idea of people in love being each others "perfect half", that "complete each other" and "fill the gaps within them" (no innuendo intended).

Sure its sweet, heart warming, and gives off a sense of hope but, realistically, nobody truly completes someone!

Which is how I came up with my own little term for my favorite relationships; Kintsugi relationships.

For those who don't know, kintsugi, also known as kintsukuro, is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery using gold, silver, or platinum dust! This creates a rather beautiful but imperfect appearance to the pottery, showing the lines of breakage while holding it together, but never truly healing it all the way.

One of my favorite current ships, Vashwood (aka Vash the Stampede and Nicholas D. Wolfwood from the Trigun franchise) reflect this type of relationship to me!

Both Vash and Wolfwood suffer from their own individual traumas, being filled to the brim with metaphorical and physical scars that eat away at them.

Vash struggles with hundreds of years worth of trauma, reflected upon his whole body after trying to save countless lives from death and violence. Some caused by bandits, some caused by his own brother, and some... Caused by him.

He struggles with nightmares and PTSD, remembering the incidents and death that was all his own fault, mourning the unknown lives that he had taken by accident during both the fall of SEEDS, the July incident, and the destruction of the moon. He relives it, and makes it his whole purpose to avoid those incidents from ever happening again.

And he suffers in silence, hiding behind a fake smile, under a red damaged duster and protective armor, with nobody truly knowing what goes through his head as he lives day by day, trying to provide some hope to the world.

Wolfwood also struggles with quite a lot of trauma, feeling the leftover scars deep within his bones, even though nary are visible upon his flesh. He remembers each bullet wound, each knife stabbing, each bit of blood that was shed before he drank a potion, forcing him back to life to continue fighting.

He also remembers the torturous abuse he went through to become a member of the Eye of Michael, to become their Punisher, forcing his body to age and grow beyond its means and become subhuman.

And even though he denies it, he remembers all the death he has caused too. All the bandits he's fought, all the targets he's followed, all to appease a faceless man to protect his childhood home at the orphanage. He drinks and smokes the pain away, never truly opening up to people while acting like a saintly priest, knowing how much pain he's caused for a cause he didn't believe in.

At least.... Until they met, and left together to search for Knives. And slowly but surely, unlike any other person they met, began to unravel and slowly heal each others open wounds.

The two of them find comfort in each others trauma, their battle scars, their imperfectness, spending every moment as they travel No Man's Land together. The bicker, they fight, they laugh, they smile, they rest and share tears. But they never try to fix each other, only bide their time and ignore their own pain, while finding a purpose in life to live and fight.

They are each others kintsugi, the gold that holds them together, that doesn't completely heal the countless imperfections, wounds, and trauma. But they don't care, because they'd rather share each others tomorrows and feel human for once, even for but a moment in each others presence...

The same applies to a pair of ocs my friend and I have developed for quite some time, with the two ironically mirroring Vashwood in terms of relationship! They both struggle with their own individual traumas, and while they can't completely heal the metaphorical and physical scars, they can mend and soothe the leftover wounds.

They both suffer in silence in their own ways, but find comfort as they unravel each others hidden scars. They're imperfect, they're damaged, they go through highs and lows... but the fact that they have someone to fill part of those gaps with love and comfort makes it all worth it.

And that my friends, is the key to a kintsugi relationship; Embracing and loving imperfection, and healing wounds but never getting rid of them

Also another really cool and similar example that my friend brought up was the Sashiko sewing technique, which like Kintsugi, is focused upon repairing damage on a piece of fabric by creating unique stitches!

To quote from them, “Nothing is perfect nor does it last forever but there is beauty it’s the wounds and cracks that it bears. Showing them healed and not fixed brings a humanness to things that otherwise wouldn’t have it.”

And man...

If that doesn't represent Vashwood's whole relationship in their story, I don't know what does!

They also mentioned, "Something born out of necessity but bringing beauty to it anyway, really does scream Vashwood," which seeing by this quote is absolutely true!

Anyway, for anyone who reads this, thank you for taking the time to do so, and have a good night/day!! Maybe in the future I'll discuss some more fun things with Trigun, my ocs, or maybe another fandom of a certain fantastical variety? 👀