#but pls try to lay it on me gentler

[bawdza]

There is no cliche that breaks my heart more than a character landing in an alternate version of a world where everything is just right, but they know isn't theirs.

[captn-trex]

let me take care of you

Rex x F!Reader

word count: 5.7k

description: you have been suffering from depression for a few months and have shut yourself off from the world. a few weeks after getting laid off from your job, you get an unexpected knock at the door.

warnings: i'm gonna say this is 16+ just to be safe, heavily implied sex, depiction of depression, suicidal ideation, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, mutual pining - let me know what I've missed !

a/n: okay so this is sooooo self-indulgent it's actually embarassing. I wrote the first bit of this when I was truly going through it and... yeah, it's just Rex taking care of the reader hehe, with a bit of suggestive stuff but not proper smut. if that's your kinda thing, I hope you enjoy! (also this is the first oneshot that I've actually posted so gimme constructive criticism pls !!)

Everything felt foggy.

For the past months, your life had felt like you were just going through the motions. Wake up, go to work, come home, struggle to sleep, and repeat. You didn't enjoy the things you used to anymore. It had been too long since you had taken a walk in the park, since you had sketched or written, and it hurt that you couldn't seem to even try and do them. Like there was an invisible force stopping you, and yet, there wasn't. It was just your own mind, lacking in whatever hormone would make you happy.

You couldn't find it in yourself to take care of yourself properly, and ever since being laid off from your job a few weeks ago, you had gone into the worst of it. You weren't eating properly, you couldn't sleep, sometimes staying up all night even though you would lay in your bed and just pray for it to be different. You hadn't seen your friends in months, though they would try and check in on you. You always told them you were busy, but you knew they knew what was going on. You had been like this before, though this time it was worse.

You shut yourself off from the world.

You hadn't been out of your apartment at all in days when you heard the knock. You made your way to your front door, and your breath hitched when you peered through the little hole and saw who was behind it.

Rex.

The clone stood in the hallway, his helmet at his hip, looking down the hall, and handsome as ever. There was no way you were letting him in while you were in this state. You hadn't brushed your hair in maker knows how long, you hadn't showered in… maybe a week? and the last time you had brushed your teeth was probably 2 days ago. Your personal hygiene was sorely lacking.

You watched the Captain through the door, your breath fogging up the glass, and jumped back when the knocking of the door reverberated around your small apartment.

What is he doing here?

You hadn't seen Rex since you lost your job, though he was among the few people who checked in with you regularly, trying to ask about how you were or convince you to come out of the house. Your stomach churned at the idea of people fussing about you, and now one of them was standing outside your door. A particular one of them that, in any given other state, you would be dying to see.

Your deep attraction and affection for Rex only made this situation more uncomfortable for you, the thought of answering the door making you feel physically sick.

You then heard your name called from behind the door in a deep, questioning voice, and your knees went weak.

“Are you in there?” He asked, followed by another knock.

You wanted to reply, to say anything, but you couldn't find your voice. What would I say? You elected to just go back to your bed, let him leave on his own, and pretend he was never here.

You scooted backwards but caught your hip on a table, sending a pile of your precious books hurtling to the floor. You held your breath, hoping Rex had not heard the noise, but it was no use.

Rex called your name again, and this time, it was gentler, “…Please let me in”

Your eyes watered as you walked up to the door, your finger hovering over the button that would cause it to slide open.

“I'm fine Rex, you can go” You tried to sound as resolute as you could, but the quiver in your voice was obvious.

“Cyare… let me in. I'm not leaving”

The nickname hit you hard, and you truly felt like clutching your chest as it pulled at the part of you that desired the clone on the other side of the door like no other.

You had met Rex years ago, at the job you had recently been let go from, working as a civilian medic on Coruscant.

The Captain could rarely be convinced by his brothers to take himself to the medbay, much more of the suffer in silence type. However, once you had begun working there, he had started making trips there for every little bump and scratch, and sometimes even when he was in perfect health, he would go claiming a cold or headache. He had always had a soft spot for you, and though he'd never admit it, he made it obvious. Everyone around him knew, everyone around you knew, but for whatever reason, you hadn't cottoned on at all.

He found you exceedingly beautiful, obviously intelligent, and just the most wonderful and bright spark of a person he'd ever met. Though, that was far from what you were feeling like at the moment.

You had also been enamoured by the Captain from the very start. The moment he walked into the medbay and made eye contact with you, you were done for. Whether it was his loyalty to his men, his commanding presence, or his wonderful smile that did it, you didn't know, but you were kriffed from the beginning.

“I can't let you in” You said, leaning your forehead into the door.

“Why not?” He said in a hushed tone that you could barely hear.

“I- I'm just not feeling well okay?” You choked out, vastly minimising the issue.

“I dont mind Cyare, just let me in. Please” He begged, but you just shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut.

You and Rex had grown into good friends quite naturally. In his needless visits to the med bay, he would often stay after hours and help you clean up, and you would fall into conversation about anything and everything. You shared many opinions about a variety of topics and would talk about your respective favourite things. Rex found that he learned a great deal about the wider galaxy from you, and he could hear you talk about art for hours upon end.

You were a fantastic artist, absolutely brilliant in any media, but Rex loved your sketches the most. You had brought him to your apartment once after work, when he had practically begged to see your work. He liked the simplicity of it, creating life with just a few stokes of a pencil. Your drawings held such character, such joy, such sorrow, and Rex thought that they were always so uniquely you. For that, he loved them.

“Rex I-” You didn't know what to say. You sank to your knees on the floor, letting your tears silently fall down your cheeks.

“Please…” He said one more time, and you finally broke.

You reached up and pressed the button, and the door zipped open to reveal your defeated posture to him. You dared not look up at him. You didn't want him to see you like this at all, but the thought of looking him in the eye when you knew how dishevelled, how weak you looked, you couldn't stomach it.

“Oh Cyare” He said softly and closed the door behind him, sinking to his knees in front of you. He tentatively placed a hand on your knee and began rubbing his thumb back and forth. “What's happened? You haven't been in the medbay for weeks”

“I was laid off” You replied quietly.

“What? Why would they do that?” He asked, genuinely confused. You were a talented medic. He could see no reason for it.

“Money is tight. We are at war after all” You chuckled a little bit, knowing that much was obvious to Rex.

“What are you upset about? I'm sure there's somewhere else that would take you, you're a great medic” He asked so innocently that you could almost laugh.

“It's not about that…” You sighed, running a hand over your face, still looking down.

“What is it about?” Rex said softly, shuffling forwards so his armoured knees touched your bare ones.

“I just… I can't do it anymore Rex” You whispered, the first time you had freely admitted it to anyone before.

Rex tensed up. He brought his other hand up and gently grabbed your chin, tilting your head to look at you properly. The look in your eyes already told him the answer to the question he was about to ask, “Can't do what?”

“It. Life. Anything. I just want to disappear” You said, choking on your tears and overwhelmed by the thoughts that weighed you down. Rex's amber irises burned into yours with such an intensity, but not for long, as his arms made their way around your body, and he pulled you into his lap.

You cried into his chest, with him stroking your hair and holding you close to him with the other arm, scared that you would somehow get your wish and disappear in his arms.

He was at a loss for words. He couldn't understand how someone he thought was so wonderful and incredible could be harbouring such hateful feelings about themself. He feared saying anything that would upset you, and the last thing he wished to do was deny how you were feeling by telling you that you were wrong, so he just held you in his arms, silently letting you know he was there for you, no matter what. The sound of your crying was making his heart break, but he stayed like that until it died down.

“How long have you been feeling like this?” He asked tentatively, drawing back and holding your jaw so he could see your face.

“I dont know… four or five months, maybe?” You replied, and it felt like he had been stabbed in the chest.

How had he not noticed anything was wrong? He felt like he had failed you, that your friendship was for nought if he couldn't even tell when you were upset. He didn't place any of the blame on you, but he had to ask…

“Why didn't you tell me?”

You sighed, “I didn't want to concern you with it. It's for me to deal with”

“What? It's not just for you to deal with, of course I'd want to know if you're not okay. I'm so sorry I didn't notice” He said, his tone so heavy with guilt.

“It's okay, it makes sense that you didn't”

Rex almost took offence to the comment, but the small smile on your lips didn't evade him, “Why does it make sense?”

“Uh, I guess I was always happy around you” You admit, “You- Uh we’re good friends, you know? I like spending time with you”

Despite the comment about being friends, Rex's heart soared, “I like spending time with you too Cyare”

“Why are you calling me that all of a sudden?” You asked. You knew what it meant, you'd spent enough time among the clones, and it was impossible to escape when you overheard their unabashed flirting on your few trips to 79s.

“Um” Rex gulped, not feeling like right now was the best time to admit that he was wildly in love with you, “I don't know, I care about you, you know? Like you said, we're good friends”

You nodded, seeming satisfied with the explanation, and Rex breathed out a shaky breath.

“I'm sorry you had to see me like this” You looked down, playing with your fingers as heat rose to your cheeks.

“It's fine, I really don't mind. Besides, you still look good to me” He said, and your eyes snapped back up to his instantly, your breath becoming short. Rex thinks I look good?

“Thanks Captain” You grinned shyly, your face feeling positively on fire at the compliment.

“It's no problem” He smiled, then he became more serious, “Have you eaten today?”

“Uh- no” You looked away again, feeling ashamed.

“Alright, let me fix you some food then” He readjusted his hold on you and picked you up, setting you down on your couch. Your head was spinning from the intimacy of feeling his breath fanning over your face.

“I don't really have any food here” You admitted sheepishly.

“Okay, how about this then” He crouched by the couch so that his eyes were level with yours, “Why don't you go and have a shower, do whatever you need to feel a bit better, and I'll go out and get us some food”

“Rex… I can't ask you to do that for me” You spoke hesitantly, but he shook his head.

“You're not asking, and in fact, neither am I” He said with a playful glint in his eye, “Go and freshen up, that's an order soldier”

You giggled at him and took the hand that he offered to help you up.

“Yes sir” You saluted him and marched off in the direction of the refresher, earning a laugh from the clone.

You stepped into the refresher and looked yourself in the eye for probably the first time in days. You did not look good. Your eyes held bags that looked so heavy that they could weigh down the skin they inhabited, your hair was a complete mess, and your skin was dull and lifeless.

You sighed, grabbed your hairbrush, and decided to start there. It took a few minutes, but soon, your hair was completely knot-free, and you stripped off and stepped into the shower. You took your time finding the perfect temperature, which ended up being almost scalding hot. You leaned your elbows against the wall, letting the water hit your back and relieving some of the tension you could feel there.

Now that you were actually in the shower, you didn't feel like leaving at all. Though, the idea of Rex being outside the door when you finished was enough for you to quickly wash yourself and your hair and hop out again. You brushed your teeth twice and moisturised your clean skin. Looking in the mirror, you looked a lot better than you did before you went in the shower, and you were eternally thankful for that. If you were going to see the person you had been in love with for years, you only wanted to look your best.

You stepped out of the refresher and headed for your bedroom with your dirty clothes in hand.

“Hey, are you-”

You jumped out of your skin when you saw Rex stood in the living area with a bag in hand, and he did too when he saw you with only a towel wrapped around you. Your eyes went wide, and you wrapped the towel tighter around your body on instinct, only fueling the less-than-pure thoughts that were spilling into Rex's brain. You looked so incredible, your hair dripping water over your body, which was seemingly glistening with its new cleanliness, and your towel left little to the imagination.

“Um yeah, you're out, cool, uh- I'll let you get dressed” He turned around and cursed silently to himself for being so awkward.

You just chuckled nervously, feeling utterly mortified, and made your way to your room as intended. You found a fresh oversized t-shirt and pair of soft shorts and slipped into them quickly, rejoining Rex in the other room.

He had taken off the top half of his armour, leaving just his blacks, the Republic insignia adorned proudly on his chest. The tightness of the top showed off his toned physique as if he wasn't even wearing anything, and you had to tear your eyes away from it.

“What did you get?” You asked quietly, sitting down next to him on the couch.

“Noodles, is that okay?” He asked, looking to you a little nervously.

You chucked at his demeanour, which was decidedly un-captain-like as he looked to you for approval, “It's perfect, thank you”

You both picked up the boxes that held your food and dug in, and your bodies turned to face each other as you rested against oppsite ends of the couch. It was good to have a proper meal, with actually nutritious foods. When you had eaten as of late, it had mostly been ration bars or random snacks you could find in your apartment. You hummed contentedly, and Rex smiled at you.

“Good?”

“Mhm” You smiled, swallowing a bite, “Thank you Rex”

“It’s alright” He said nonchalantly.

“I mean it, thank you for… taking care of me” You said, then looked down, “I'm finding that difficult at the moment, so it means a lot”

“Cyare” Rex moved towards you and placed a hand on your knee, “It's really no trouble, I just want to see you feeling better”

You looked up at him and gave a tight lipped smile, “Well, thank you anyway”

“No problem. You look a little more alive now, by the way” He teased.

“Hey! You're the one that said I looked good before, you cant take it back now” You challenged, and he smirked.

“I'm not taking it back. You just look even better now” He said, but his smirk dropped when you froze up at his comment.

“You dont have to say that just to make me feel better, you know” You said, looking down and taking your final mouthful of noodles.

“I'm not just saying it” He said quietly, and you looked up to see his light frown. You put down your food box as he continued to stare at you seriously.

“What is it?” You ask.

“It's nothing, don't worry about it” He said quickly and put his own food box down as he finished.

“Rex” You scooted closer to him so that your knees were almost touching, “What's the matter?”

“Nothing’s the matter” He avoided your eyes as he spoke, and you used the technique that he employed earlier on, gently taking his chin between your thumb and finger and guiding his gaze towards you.

“What is it?” You asked again, and his eyebrows pinched together as his eyes flicked between the two of yours.

“You're so beautiful Cyare” He said, tentatively placing his hand on your lower thigh.

Your breath hitched in your throat at the gentle touch, and you searched his eyes for any dishonesty but only found them to be as earnest as usual.

“I- I should've been telling you every day since I met you” He said, his voice breaking just a little as he spoke so softly, “I should’ve been telling you how much you mean to me, how much I care for you, how important you are” He stroked his thumb back and forth on your thigh, sending tingles up your spine.

“Rex” You breathed out in a whisper, your hand sliding around to cup his sharp jaw. He leaned into your touch, and you felt as if you could melt at the sight.

“Say something” He urged, his eyes pleading for a conformation that you felt the same way.

“I-” You didn't know what to say. You felt the same, but the words got caught in your throat. It felt wrong to truly admit to your affection for him after bottling it up for so long.

“Rex, I've always cared for you, far more than a medic should care for their patient” You admitted, and his eyes lit up.

“You have?” He asked, and you nodded in reply.

“And for the record, I think you're beautiful too” You let a small grin creep its way onto your face.

“That’s good to know” Rex smirked, bringing his other hand to your cheek.

He looked deeply into your eyes, the eyes that he always found so fascinating, and he leaned his forehead against yours before tilting his head towards your lips. You shivered with anticipation.

“Is this okay? I don't want to take advantage of you if you-”

“Just kiss me Rex” You whispered against his lips, your eyes fluttering shut. He didn't delay after that. With your permission, he couldn't say no.

His lips met yours tentatively, as if testing the waters, but as soon as he felt you kiss him back, he pulled you in more urgently. His lips moved against yours, melding together as if it was how they were made to be. You felt your need for closeness growing, and you pulled him towards you as you deepened the kiss. Rex slid his hand up your thigh, resting it on your hip and tracing small circles with his thumb as his other hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer as he devoured your lips.

Rex pulled back, his teeth lingering on your bottom lip for a moment, and you both caught your breath.

“I can't tell you how long I've wanted to do that” You said, your breath still short.

Rex grinned widely, “Yeah? I can guarantee it's probably not as long as I have”

“Probably not” You chuckled, “Unless you somehow wanted to before you even looked at me for the first time”

Rex raised his eyebrows, “You've wanted to kiss me the whole time we've known each other?” He asked, and you nodded your head shyly. “Why didn't you say anything?”

“I dont know, I guess I just figured you wouldn't feel the same” You shrug.

Rex just shook his head with a smile and pulled you onto his lap “Oh, how wrong you were”

“Is that right?” You smirked, “I'd love to hear all about just how wrong I was”

Rex smirked back at you, and placed a kiss to your cheek, “I've wanted to kiss those pretty lips of yours ever since I laid eyes on you” He confessed, and your breath hitched as he continued to place featherlight kisses along your jaw. “I thought you were the most beautiful person I'd ever seen” He kissed down your neck slowly, gently nipping at you with his teeth at the point where your neck meets your shoulder, which earned a small whine from you, and you could feel him smirk.

“I've never felt the way I feel about you, about anyone else” He murmured against your skin, burying his nose in your neck and inhaling your scent.

His words were driving you crazy. They were all you had ever wanted to hear from him, and here he was, speaking them aloud as he kissed your skin so gently, as if you would break if he pressed any harder.

“Rex” You whispered, and he looked up at you, waiting for you to continue.

“What is it, Mesh'la?” He whispered back, his lips ghosting yours. You shuddered in his arms, your eyes fluttering closed, and he watched your every move with anticipation.

“Rex, I-” You leaned your forehead against his, needing an anchor before you spoke your next words, “I need you”

Rex's heart skipped a beat. Possibly a few beats. “What do you mean, Cyare?”

“Please, take me to the bedroom” You asked, begged, and Rex took action immediately.

He held you to him as he stood up, and you wrapped your legs around him tightly. He made his way to your bed quickly and gently laid you onto your back, crawling over you so he was holding himself above your body.

“You're sure about this, Cyare? If it's just a lapse in judgement because you're not in your right mind, I understand, no hard feelings” Rex stroked your cheek with his knuckles, looking into your eyes intently.

“Rex, please. My judgement is just fine. I want you. I've always wanted you” You said, the neediness so obvious in your tone. Rex's expression then settled somewhere between amusement and adoration.

“You want me?” He smirked, his lips hovering just above yours.

“Yes” You spoke breathlessly.

“Say it again” He commanded in a whisper, his amber eyes burning into your very soul.

“I want you, Rex”

He breathed out a shaky breath and brought his lips to yours, speaking between chaste kisses, “You have me, all of me. You always have. I've always been yours”

It was almost too much to hear. Your heart was pounding in your ears, and you thought you'd made it all up.

“I've always been yours Rex” You whispered against his lips, and his breath stuttered.

“You're mine?” He asked in a murmur. The flame of desire burning in his eyes was clear.

“Only yours”

He pressed his lips to yours with a newfound desperation, his hand trailing down your body and holding your hips in place as he slipped his leg between yours. You grasped at his body, your hands finding themselves underneath the top of his blacks, and he stopped kissing you to pull it off. You absolutely marvelled at the sight.

In all your time knowing Rex, mending up his various wounds, you had never had the honour of glimpsing at his form without a shirt on. You traced along a scar at the centre of his chest, “How did you get this?”

“I was shot” He shrugged with a grin.

“No big deal for a big important Captain like you, I suppose” You teased and matched his grin as he rolled his eyes.

“Shut up” He mumbled against your skin as he buried his head in your neck, leaving soft kisses and less soft bites. You struggled to keep small moans from escaping your lips at his touch, and Rex noticed you holding back. He wound his way up to your lips, pressing a short kiss to them before he spoke.

“Don't hold out on me cyar'ika, I want to hear you”

You bit your lip and nodded at him, then kissed a trail across his strong jaw, earning a soft groan. As your kisses made their way down his neck, and you brought your hands to trail down his body, he groaned more deeply. The sound was driving you insane. Before you could breach the top of his blacks, Rex gathered your wrists in his hand and held them above your head, your eyes blown wide with desire and longing, your breath ragged.

Rex just looked at you for a moment, committing the intoxicating sight to his memory. His other hand found your face as he shifted the leg that was between yours, earning a whimper, “Don't worry about that, just let me take care of you”

You shuddered at his words, your body tense with anticipation for what was to come.

He looked so perfect, angelic even.

Watching Rex sleep was never a luxury you imagined yourself getting the opportunity to indulge in, but with it right in front of you, you weren't going to let it pass you by.

You had slept for a little while, wrapped up in Rex's limbs, and held closely to his body. You had been completely at peace, every struggle and awful thought that usually plagued you was pushed to the back of your mind and there was only him, his presence enveloping you; his warmth, his scent, the feel of his skin against yours, his breath against your cheek and his chest rising and falling gently. Now, as you moved away from him and watched the cold light of morning creep across his features, you couldn't help but marvel at the sight.

You slipped out of his arms, a soft sigh escaping him in the process. Your heart clenched at the sound, only feeling your adoration for him growing once again.

You reluctantly tore your gaze away from him and went over to your desk, opening the left draw as quietly as you could. You took out your flimsi sketchbook and a pencil and made your way over to the chair that was against the large window overlooking the city. However, that wasn't the focus of your sketching today, not when there was a sight far more beautiful laying in your bed.

You opened up your small sketchbook and looked at the last thing you had drawn. It was a scene from the park. A couple sat on a bench at the edge of the man-made pond and smiling adoringly at each other. You smiled and pushed down the guilt at the realisation that you had drawn this over four months ago.

When you looked up to Rex again, your heart skipped a beat. The sun had risen a little higher in the sky and cast a golden light across the lower half of his face and chest. You took up your pencil and began sketching the view before anything could disturb it.

The sheets were pooled at his waist, showing off his toned physique in all its glory, especially as he slept with one hand tucked under his head. His features were relaxed, more relaxed than you had ever seen. His face often had a sternness about it that was undeniably militaristic, but that was nowhere to be found as he slept peacefully.

You had the outline and were now just adding the details. The small marks on his skin, some that you had fixed up yourself, and the large blaster burn in the centre of his chest. As you were adding some of the shadows to his face, you heard a small grumble, and your head shot up to see Rex opening his eyes, stretching his arms out.

“Don’t move” You spoke gently, and he looked to you, noticing your sketchbook in your hand as you sat curled up in your chair.

He smiled, a warmth spreading across his chest as he settled back into his previous position, “Like this?”

“Mhm” You hummed in reply, taking in the way the shadows on his face changed now that he was awake. “Relax” You laughed as you saw a small crease emerge in his brow.

He chuckled a little and relaxed with a contented sigh.

“Almost done” You said quietly, as if to not disturb your own work.

You quickly added the remaining shading, adding some small details of the bed and the room, wanting to capture the moment perfectly, so that should your mind ever forget it, which you doubted, it would be forever recorded. That was what you loved about using flimi over a datapad. The physicality felt more personal and permanent.

“All finished” You smiled as you closed your sketchbook and went to place it back in your desk.

“Hey! Aren't you going to show me?” Rex asked, and you looked back to him to see the crease in brow had returned.

“It's not very good, it's just a sketch”

“Cyare, I love your sketches. Please, show me” He spoke gently, an edge of seriousness to deny your self-deprecating words.

“Okay” You conceded, opening the sketchbook back up and sitting down on the bed to show him. Rex then grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into him, making you fall back into his chest as he laid down again. A delighted laugh escaped your lips at the sudden contact, and you looked up to Rex's face to see an equally elated expression.

He took the sketchbook from your hand and looked over the drawing of himself, his smile widening with each second.

“It's amazing” He said softly, meeting your eyes again.

“That's because it's of you” You smiled and brushed your nose against his, earning a small chuckle.

“No, it's… You make me look so…” He looked over the drawing and tried to find the right word to describe what he meant, “I'm not sure. It looks exactly like me, but… There's something else to it”

“Well, all the best things are made with love” You said before you could even really process what you were saying.

Rex’s eyes went wide as they snapped back to yours, “Love?” He questioned.

You shrank backwards, wanting the bed to collapse in on itself and swallow you whole, but Rex’s arm tightened around your waist, pulling you against him. You let the word hang in the air for a moment before clearing your throat and swallowing hard.

“Uh… yeah” You said awkwardly, looking away.

Rex said your name in a soft tone, pulling your focus back to him. He rested his forehead against yours, his amber eyes burning into yours, “You love me?”

“I do” You whispered, gnawing your bottom lip at the vulnerability of the admission.

Rex met your lips in a sweet kiss, slow and deliberate, and pulled away a few seconds later. He caressed your cheek with his knuckles before he settled his palm on the back of your neck. “I love you too” He confessed, and your heart leapt to your throat.

“You do?” You whispered.

“I do. I always have. It's like I said, I've always been yours” He confirmed, repeating the words he had said last night. You brought your forehead to his again and closed your eyes, taking in the sweetness of the moment.

“And I yours”

Nothing was fixed. You weren't back to being happy and full of life like you once were, but Rex had reminded you why life was worth living. You were reminded of all the things that made it worthwhile, all of the things you loved to do, the things that brought joy and colour into your life. If you could just take it one step at a time, one day after the other, you would get through this feeling, and best of all, Rex would be there to support you when you needed him.

[whoreforwonwoo]

WONWOOO I NEED WONWWOOO

Hahhaha nè u.

MDNI

Wonu spanking.

His hand comes down hard in your ass and you yelp. It wasn't your fault your ass was so sensitive. You cry out loudly as he continues the spanks on your ass. "Should've thought before disobeying me huh" His voice cold as ice. You squirm hard and beg him to stop. "S-sir....pls...I.-I....c-c-cant...it..hurts.." You cry out loudly. He stops and runs a hand through your hair and coos. "Sweetheart....shhh...it's ok...take these spankings...and I'll reward you....hmmm". His voice gentler and warm now. You cry but decide to stay silent for the time being. He spanks you again. And again. And again. Until your ass possibly couldn't take it anymore. You were at your limit. Your ass sore red and raw. You sob and scream kicking your legs. He clicks his tongue in annoyance. "Enough....be still" he growled out. "Noo...I cant" You sobbed hard. He spanks you hard and raises his brow. "You can't? You can and you will Sweetheart. Understand!" He pinches the flesh of your ass and you scream. He continues the spanks and you just lay there limp. Knowing staying still would be better than fighting and getting from you punishment. After what felt like ages to you. He stops and rubs your ass. "Shhh...my baby was such a good girl..." he praises in a sweet and calm voice. He spreads your legs and touches your wet cunt. He chuckles darkly at the wetness and says. "MY gosh...you're soaked baby...". You cry out in the sensitivity. He rubs small hard circles on your clit and even pinches it harshly. You scream out at the over stimulation and squirm. But he puts a leg over yours and traps you underneath him. He then puts 2 fingers inside your warm wet hole and starts thrusting in and out in a fast and unforgiving pace. You sob and reach behind to hold his wrist sobbing for him to slow down. He grabs your wrist and pins it behind youur back. He fastens his pace and he curls his fingers inside you. You clutch the bedsheets tightly with your free hand and look back. He continues to torture your cunt and smirks at you. "You gon' cum?" He asked, his voice deep and cold. You sob and stutter out a "Yes sir." To which he chuckles darkly. He rubs the inside of you harshly and you cry out and clench around him tightly. His thumb rubs hard and fast circles on your clit and you come. You sob out loudly as you came. He chuckles again and takes his fingers out and clicks his tongue. "Such a nasty girl...." he comments and his fingers move down to rub your sensitive and throbbing clit again. You cry and beg him to stop. "Sir...no...pls...it's...it hurts...I cant...pls" he doesn't and keeps rubbing fast circles on your clit. You sob and scream. Your body shakes violently. You were completely at his mercy. You couldn't do anything but take everything he was giving you. His fingers again go inside your swollen hole and you shriek. He picks up his pace and brutally rubs you g-spot. "NO MORE...PLS...STOP". You scream out. Choking on tears and spit. You felt yourself getting closer and closer. Your legs desperately try to close, but he keeps it open and keeps torturing your pussy. Your legs shook uncontrollably as your 2nd orgasm takes over you and you come so hard you see white. After you get down from your high, your body goes completely limp against him. He runs a hand through your hair and pulls you up in a sitting position on his lap. He kisses your forehead softly and hugs you tightly. "Shhh...it's done...you're OK...I've gotcha" he whispers in your ear. You sob in his arm, your body shaking and trembling. He rocks you back and forth in his arms. He takes a can of energy drink, tilts your head up by your chin and puts the can to your mouth and tells you drink. You clutch his shirt and slowly gulp down the drink. He took the can away and kissed your lips. "Will you ever disobey me again?"........

[comet-forgot-you]

max and r dry humping in the morning bcs max is in the mood but they have to be quiet not to wake her mom and siblings hear me out!! 🫣

I. LOVE. YOU. thank you so much anon for putting this in my head i will think about it forever.

smut. 18+ pls

do not repost for any reason.

it wasnt often that max woke up before you, you could count the number of times on one hand, really. she always slept in longer than you did, not that you minded. you loved seeing her so at peace, so calm. so when you woke up this morning, soft whines in your ear, a weight on your thigh, you were slightly shocked.

it took a moment for you to fully wake up, not used to the other girl being awake so early. your hands find her hips, slowing their gentle movements to a stop. “max,” you mumble groggily, “what’re you-“

your words are cut off by her lips pressing against your own. it wake you up completely as you kiss her back. “js’ needed you so bad. couldnt wait, ‘m sorry,” she mumbles against your lips, her hips trying desperately to grind down against your thigh. the ache between her thighs felt almost unbearable to her, and you seemed to be the only thing that could make it go away.

“its okay max,” you whisper, guiding her hips to grind down against your thigh. a moan falls from max’s lips at the sensation and you’re quick to halt your movements, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth. “you gotta be quiet, baby. your family’s awake. can you be quiet?” she nods, a quiet whine muffled by your hand. you smile before guiding her against your thigh.

the moment is soft, much gentler than your usual times together. max buries her head into your neck, her hot breath fanning against your skin. “youre so pretty, max,” you mumble in her hair, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. she lets out a soft whimper, her panties growing wetter as she nears her climax. “come on baby,” your voice is soft, your thumb rubbing the skin just underneath her shirt. “so good.”

“fuck,” she breathes out, hips stuttering. “gonna cum,” she mumbles underneath her breath.

“go on, baby.”

moments pass before amber’s biting the skin of you neck gently, trying her best to suppress the loud moan that usually follows her orgasm. “good job, baby,” you mumble, rubbing her back gently. she ruts against your thigh, riding out her orgasm.

“thank you,” her voice is quiet and a gentle kiss is pressed to the skin she had just bitten. you smile tiredly as she presses kisses all over your neck, kissing up to your lips. “im so tired,” she mumbles, rolling off of you to lay against your side. her leg remains over yours, your arm wrapped loosely around her.

“go back to bed pretty girl.” you press a kiss to her forehead, a sleepy smile painting her lips. god shes so cute.

[melody-writer777]

Will you write headcannons for a Bill kaulitz x singer!reader? Something where Bill and the reader are both in separate bands but meet through like mutual connections. Then later on Bill and the reader start to have feelings for each other?

Bill kaulitz x singer!reader

Summary: How you and Bill met and how it was like when you both had feelings for eachother.

Ship: Bill Kaulitz x singer!reader

Warnings: No serious warnings but I kinda struggled to find a way to make a mutual connection so the connection ended up being the fans of Tokie Hotel and readers band.

Almost all of your fans are also major fans of Tokio Hotel and vice versa, so it was only a matter of time before [your band] and Tokio Hotel met to make music or at least footage of how you guys interact.

Before you guy got to making music you all agreed you all would at least spend time getting to know one another so that the music comes together easier.

But after a day or two of getting to know each other Bill started to realize how great of a person you in every way and a little while after you also realize he was actually a really nice, and funny guy. Not to mention he was crazy good looking.

When the first picture of you all hanging out was posted, the fans went crazy and were so exited to see what was being planned.

To keep themselves busy they were trying to find all the picture they could and soon all the fans agreed that you and Bill would make a cute couple.

Someone in your band would be the first to find an edit, tag, or maybe even a fanfic on social media, of you and Bill.

Bill definitely was the first to deny it, he did red but blamed it on embarrassment and how you two were only friends.

You did the same, not that you wanted to, but only to not make things awkward.

As time went on he would have trouble looking you in the eyes, and when he did he zoned out

He wouldn’t completely ignore you, he really couldn’t deprive himself of you, but he would respond to you in a quick way.

Once the Tag and all the rest of the ship content continued to blow up both the rest of Tokio Hotel and [your band] could see the way you guys look at each other.

Soon they decided to just go out and pick up food about an hour away, but ofc someone needed to stay and protect the house (toms word) that person ended up being you.

But as Bill was getting ready they left without him

Both of you were really confused but you offered to watch a movie together since the rest of them would be gone for a while.

Bull wanted to decline, in fear of it being awkward, but he knew he would hate himself later is he didn’t watch the movie with you.

Thirty minutes into the movie it actually wasn’t that bad, you guys had smooth conversations between events but you both knew you needed to talk about it.

Bill brought up the tag and all of it in a joke, and you kinda laughed but soon you actually brought up the subject with just a blunt “Do you like me”

Bill was shocked but after a little pause he said yes but immediately asked if you liked him after.

When you said yes he was relieved and honestly didn’t know what to do.

After talking about it all, you could tell to tension was gone and you decided to lay on his shoulder in the last 20 minutes of the movie.

And by the time the group came back you were asleep and Bill was just shushing them so he could wake you up in a gentler way.

Pls let me know if this is what you wanted anon, and if there’s something you don’t really like them plss tell me. I’m wasn’t sure if you wanted more of the story or if you wanted to know what it would be like for Bill to like you. But all in all I like the way it turned out.

-Melody <33

[obislittleone]

Cruel Irony

6/?

Bale!Bruce Wayne x Reader

Alright so ima go ahead and just post the Jerome chap tomorrow bc I'm too lazy to post it tonight okay bye also if u like this story pls like and share/reblog it means a lot!!!

Series Summary: Growing up on infinity Island, Moyra is taught very well in the art of assassination. As the daughter of Ra's Al Ghul, she sits highly amongst the brotherhood known as the League of Shadows. When her father orders her to lure a stranger from the outside to be recruited amongst the mysterious clan, she will question everything she's ever believed.

Chapter Warnings: more fatherly angst, fluff... pinky smut idk

"You keep blatantly disobeying me, and you do so openly, without remorse." My father had yet again caught me leaving Bruce's room after spending the night with him. He didn't pull me straight from the door this time, as he had other matters to attend to, but he did make a point to separate me from whom I was training with later in the day. "I cannot keep letting you do this without punishment."

"You can't keep treating me as a child, I'm nearly a fully mature woman." I tried stand up for myself, but he wouldn't be hearing my remarks today, he had a point to make.

"You are a child! Twenty years gives you no authority in this world. You need to listen to me, because I know what your future holds if you don't..." He said, his voice becoming more gentle at the end. I knew he had my best interest at heart, but I wanted so much more than this provincial life.

"I can't avoid making decisions for myself. How must one learn to do something if someone else does it for them?" I tilted my head, trying to appeal to his fatherly side. It was much gentler than his leader of warriors side.

"I fear you may be drifting apart from the bond you once possessed with the league... with me." He bowed his head, and he looked troubled, which was not a common occurrence. He got upset sometimes, but never usually wore a look of worry. The man never faced anything he couldn't handle, so when he was distraught and uncertain, it made for a strange and unpredictable outcome. "I trust you to make the decisions, but I am afraid of the actions you might take to make them despite me."

"My loyalties lie with the league, just as they always have. Since the time I took the oath and even before that I have been nothing but faithful. You know that." I assured him. Really I couldn't help but feel the truth in his words. I was not close enough to any one member of the league except my father, for myself to wish protection on them all over a singular person who wasn't even sworn into our ranks yet.

"One can lay their loyalties with more than one thing, Moyra. Be careful who you trust, and never turn your back on anyone. They could just as easy rip you to shreds when you aren't looking." He said, the words of wisdom pouring from his mouth. He was right, I couldn't always trust everyone. Maybe I couldn't even trust him, my own father.... and even after making that comparison I still knew in my heart that I could trust the person he suspects my loyalties lie more firmly with. I believe that they do myself.

I just nodded at my father and left his presence. He couldn't stop me from strengthening my relationship with Bruce, but I wasn't going to push that fact in his face anymore. I wouldn't blatantly put him into a state of distress, however little the affects may be. I would not flaunt the way that I was simply delving deeper into a new place I'd never gone before. I cared for my father, and would not purposely defy him in a way that he felt I was doing despite him. He'd done so much for me to just throw it all away now.

I was exploring these feelings, and though I still did not understand them, I more often indulged them just so that I could try and figure them out. It was a wild and somewhat dangerous thing I suppose, for these feelings could push me to do some crazy things I had not thought of before with myself. Maybe not crazy.... but not things I had ever warranted necessary until now. Very personal, private things.

I more often spent the night with Bruce, for he was someone to keep warm with, especially on rainy nights... and he would often spend the might with me, too. Sometimes he'd be tired after a long day with my father, and would simply collapse in my room before he even had the chance to consider moving back to his own.

I often wondered if my father had similar discussions with Bruce like he had with me. Bruce surely would talk to me about them if he did, and moreover he would act differently towards me... wouldn't he? Unless he, like me, could not be bothered by my fathers words.

I doubted Bruce felt the same feelings I did. It made sense to think something was there, but I couldn't really identify it well. I wanted to let time pass, and see if the feelings got stronger, or if they faded.

They definitely got stronger on my side of things... so much stronger.

Bruce and I sat side by side one night, opening up different past events to the air, and letting each other see more vulnerable parts of each other... although I hadn't told Bruce about my most horrible trauma, because I'd be saving that one for when the time is right.

"I was just scared he might be coming for me, I still have this crazy idea that he might...." Bruce trailed off, leaning his head against the wall as he spoke, a little embarrassed to admit something only he thought about.

"You know I'd always protect you, right? You never have to worry... I'll have your back." I told him sincerely, as we talked about the reason he ran away. Falconi. Also the reason why he'd strung me up in that random house the first time we met.

"I'd be more concerned about protecting you..." he chuckled, pulling me closer to him as I leaned on his shoulder, gently massaging the muscles there. He'd gotten so buffed up the last few years, and I couldn't even imagine what a few more could do for him.

"We'd protect each other, then." I said, and he nodded in agreement. The next words to come from his mouth would be so profound to our future, and would most likely be our mantra to one another for the years to come.

"Whatever we face, we face together... so we can protect each other." He suggested, and I looked up at him with a soft smile.

"Promise?"

He didn't say anything, or even nod, but held up his pinky finger to me as if I knew what to do with it.

"What does that mean?" I asked, turning back to him while he furrowed his brows.

"Isn't this what girls do when they make a promise?"

"Like I would know..." I laughed at his dimwitted moment and took his pinky along with mine anyway. Such a childlike gesture that simply meant the world for a second. We were like two twelve year olds, making pinky promises while telling stories and trying to get the other to laugh. After the rain comes the rainbow, so after sharing trauma, we told each other lame jokes that even Dad's would be too cool to tell.

We didn't fall asleep next to each other that night, for we needed to avoid getting caught by my father, who'd throughout the last year, been implementing heavier rules. We still found ways to break them most nights, but tonight was a lovely night... too lovely to spend time plotting against the rules of our leader.

I slept well, but not as well as when I'm clinging onto the warmth of Bruce Wayne.

Tags are open!!

@huntheimpossible @testudies

[pedropascallovebot]

panic attacks

The Mandalorian x Reader

summary: you’re left to watch over the ship in the middle of the night, while mando goes after a bounty. the woods don’t seem very welcoming.

warnings: panic attacks, cursing, general spooky forest stuff?? 

a/n: this is pretty short but i really wanted to get it up, i hope it doesn’t suck too much and i hope you all enjoy! pls don’t read if you will it will trigger you in any way! stay safe kiddos <3 

—

With no way to tell the specific time in your current position, you have to rely on the sky being dark to indicate it’s still the middle of the night. Mando has been gone for only one day, but the shady woods he’s parked the ship in has made too many noises for you to rest comfortably.

While the kid is snoozing away happily in his makeshift crib, you’re laying down on your back in the cockpit, staring at the ceiling of the Razor Crest. You tried to take your mind off of the creepy scratches that tree branches made when they dragged down the side of the ship, cleaning off every speck of dust. You’d been fine at first, when the sun was still shining and everything was calm and quiet and you could see ten feet out into the forest.

While you were used to being alone for long periods of time, middle of the night included, it was just your luck Mando decided to pick the worst possible spot in the entire planet to park while he hunted down a bounty. You hadn’t protested at the time, because you didn’t think anything of it. Even if you did, you couldn’t look a Mandalorian in the eye and tell him you were afraid of the woods, when he was about to go risk his life on a man hunt. Besides, he asked if you had a problem with not parking in a metered spot. You were the one that said that you didn’t.

Which brings you here: laying on the floor, afraid to look anywhere in the woods out of fear something might be looking back at you. Your jacket is acting as a blanket, since you didn’t have time to grab one before assuming fetal position on the floor of the cockpit. You stay like that for what you assume is another hour, in complete misery. Your chest is aching and every time the wind whistles through the trees, you clench your teeth and mentally curse Mando for picking the creepiest spot in the fucking galaxy.

Not long after you manage to crawl over to the kid, pick him up, and cuddle him while you’re up against the wall, you hear the doors to the crest slam open, and your breath hitches. Your brain scrambles to find an appropriate plan to combat death by weird forest creatures, but your body tells you to stay on the floor and accept defeat. Your one logical thought tells you to hold the baby closer to you, and it lets out a whine when you wake it from it’s nap. All of a sudden, the cockpit is filled with one more body, and you’re so prepared to close your eyes and pretend none of this nightmare is happening-

Until you’re met with silence, and a metal form beginning to sit down in the pilot’s seat.

“Mando?”

Your partner turns his helmet to face you. You can’t be sure what his expression looks like, but the double take makes you assume he didn’t comprehend you were sitting on the ground until he sees you shivering with the kid clutched to your chest. It hits you how pathetic you must look, but you almost don’t care. The heavy weight on your chest lifts slightly when you see the Mandalorian, and you feel the first wave of relief in hours wash over you.

“Bounty’s in carbonite,” he mutters, turning his gaze away from you and towards the ships controls. “I’m going down to check a leak. It might take a couple hours, since I probably have to head into the town again to find a spare part. You stay here and make sure nothing happens.”

With this, your head snaps up, and you flinch at how your neck snaps in place.

“You’re leaving again?”

This catches Mando’s attention. You’ve never expressed any concern over his whereabouts, or how he just comes and goes. This was his thing, this was what he did. “I’ll be back before midday.”

You almost launch off the floor after settling the kid down, where he waddles over to find a more comfortable resting place than your disgruntled form. You look out the glass, and see the sun is starting to rise in the sky. It’s still not enough light.

The ache in your chest begins to return, and your jaw feels tight.

Mando begins to head out, and you don’t know what comes over you, but before you can stop yourself, your body goes to step in front of the door,preventing him from leaving. You’re so stressed and tense from the horrific night you just had that the stare the bounty hunter must be giving you from behind the mask doesn’t frighten you.

“You can’t leave,” you attempt you demand, but it probably sounds more like a whine. Though, it does work well enough to make Mando take a step away from the door, and take a good look at you.

“I think I can, actually. I was just about to.”

You have to think quick, and stupidly, you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

“The baby is sick!”

He takes half a glance at the napping kid, sprawled out on the floor after trying to jump his way into his crib and giving up.

“He looks very ill, you’re right,” his voice completely flat, about to squeeze past you to leave you all alone in the ship, completely alone in the middle of the unguarded woods.

You can’t go through anymore of this isolation, not here.

“Please don’t leave me here, Mando,” you suddenly cry, and your stomach starts turning and combined with the feeling in your chest, you’re sure you’re either about to be sick, or go into cardiac arrest. You don’t mean for it to happen, but a tear slips down your face and is followed by a few more.

The way Mando reaches out for you causes you to flinch back, fearing he might be pushing you out of the way so you aren’t blocking the door. Instead, he’s cradling your face, and trying to analyze what exactly happened while he was away. His other hand wraps around your waist, keeping you upright when you think you might fall down in pure and utter fucking fear of having to spend more time alone in these woods.

“Calm down,” he orders, somewhat gentler than how he usually delivers his speech. “Hey, hey, I’m here- you’re okay.”

He leads you to sit on the pilot seat, kneeling down in front of you. His hand goes to grip your knee, running his thumb along the edges. You can barely see him through the tears, and it’s hard to imagine the outcome of the situation when you tell a Mandalorian that you’re having a panic attack because you thought the woods were scary.

“Wanna tell me what’s up?”

In between gasps, you manage to nod, but your chest is telling you to shut up because you still can’t breathe and you’re still picturing the thought of you somehow falling victim to whatever was in the trees and never being seen again. What would happen to the kid? What would Mando do? Would he just assume you abandoned them and go about his life without ever looking for you?

He seems to understand your lack of words, and he takes your hand that’s  clutching the neckline of your shirt to hold it steady so you don’t choke yourself on accident. The two of you sit like that for a while, him not saying much of anything, and you desperately trying to catch your breath and stop crying.

“I don’t like these woods,” you say sometime later, once you calm down. “I know that’s not your fault, I’m sorry I made a big deal out of it.”

Mando stares at you for a second before standing up, smoothing your hair down and wiping up the tears on your cheeks.

“You don’t have to stay here, you can come with me to town,” he offers, and you smile softly before he looks down at your feet.

The kid is waddling over to you, arms outstretched, silently asking if you’re okay. Your bones are aching and there’s still a dull ringing in your head when you bend down to pick him up and prop him on your leg, but you’ve never felt more safe than with it and Mando both next to you.

And while Mando grabs your jacket to slip it over your shoulders, he thinks of how next time, he’ll shell out some extra credits to park in town, no matter how risky it is. He’s not sure he’s physically capable of seeing his- well, he’s not sure what you are to him yet- he just knows he never wants to see you curled up and scared ever again.

He tells himself it’s just because you’re his companion, but the way he wants to be able to take on the pain in your chest so you don’t have to feel it says different.

[fart-gate]

SGA

Season 5 episode 9

Notes by me

- t shirt Rodney within the first minute?? Dont mind if I do

- hes volunteering so he can hang out with keller awwww

- is this jealous!john I see...

- "a kinder,gentler McKay..." Youre already kind!!!! In your own way

- ronons going too!!

- is this supposed to make me question whos she gonna pick or something. Pls dont pit Rodney and ronon against each other...come on writers.....this trope is way over done.

- if they werent cowards they would make it poly

- but this is great bc I get rodney/keller content AND ronon/keller content. Which I am digging both (ronon/Rodney is a given)

- this is also pleasing my need for Body Guard Ronon content 👍

- lunch date!

- kidnapped! I love hearing them call her jennifer ❤

- panic!Rodney

- they skipped the theme 😡

- shes aliveeeee

- theres a strange man....his arm band looks familiar? Like goauldish?🤔

- tracker!ronon

- "footprints appeared out of nowhere...like they dropped out of the sky" beaming tech maybe?

- I love determined ronon

- oh shit rodney hide

- WRAITH!!!!!

- when he yells for ronon while running 👌👌👌

- this is so intense

- DID HE JUST SAY "OH SHIT!" LMAO HE TOTALLY DID

SAME RODNEY

- scared!Rodney

- Body Guard Ronon is making my day

- a hunter? That means that the guy that has keller is a runner

- hope you didnt need that head buddy #decapitated

- why did she think running would work. The guy can literally teleport

- Rodney and ronon content is literally all I needed. I can die happy now

- he IS a runner

- I'm having such a good time folks. I love episodes when its just two characters but when its Rodney and ronon together ......im ascending

- tracker!ronon is hot

- Rodney trying to figure it out lol

- ya know this guy is actually kinda nice? Like hes not a huge asshole or anything

- Rodney hopping on one foot while shooting a gun

- good idea Rodney use the wraith tracker thingy. I didnt even think of that

- ungrateful!ronon

- hes got someone that needs a doctor!!! So he IS nice

- Rodney and ronon *constant bickering*

- the tracker is fused to his brain stem. This is fucked up :(

- I guess ronon got lucky with his tracker

- the shot of Rodney and ronon laying underneath the swinging Spiked Log 👌

- a little girl? Maybe his daughter?

- ok I guess not

- he took care of her after her whole village was killed......

- take her to atlantis! Theres probably some tech that could disable his tracker too

- omg he made her a doll. He was MEANT to be her dad 😭😭😭

- "hes not mean. He just pretends to be"

"I know someone like that"

- ok but she could literally be talking about either of Rodney or ronon. Like which one.....blease....blease tell me I need to know....

- I gotta admit. This guys kinda hot

- oh nice keller! Get knifed bitch!

- "take her to atlantis" I just said that

- "fry the circuits" you mean the circuits connected to his brain?Those circuits???

- when he takes his shirt off and theres a shit ton of scars

- just like what ronon had :(

- omg it worked

- ah shit is he dead

- HE LIVES!!!!

- "successfully fried the sucker" FUCK YEAAAHHHH

- oohhh we get to keep the teleporter!

- how smug ronon is when he noticed that keller dragged the guy all the way from the cave

- Ronon YEETS himself at this Poor Man

- when she says please stop and thats all it took for ronon to put his gun down 💕💗💕💗💕💗💕💗💕💗💕💕💗 LOYALTY

- my 2 runners knowing they need each other 😭😭😭😍😍😍

-

- "shoot him!" "I will!" Battle couple

- I N T E N S E

- runner bonding😭😭😭❤❤ this is dredging up a bunch of old emotional scars and memories for ronon

- he just sacrificed himself! 😩 And he took the teleporter thing :(

- ronon just lost his new friend

- WELL HI JOHN

- soft!ronon gives her the doll 😊

- ronon still has feelings for keller???? Where have they been hiding huh??? Its been like a whole season since weve seen those two have a conversation

- "may the best man win" ITS NOT A GAME GUYS JEEZ

- I hope we see that man again. I kinda love him now.

[eeveedel]

For the thick alpha mafia: we know that louis in this au is v independent and strong, but can we see a scene where he’s suddenly vulnerable? (like when there’s a raid and he thinks h has been hurt). Or when Louis actually agrees to bond? x

This is more vulnerable Harry than Louis but I hope you enjoy it! Pls note this is copied from my RP with @houayloriana and I just edited it a bit; I wrote the stuff from Harry’s POV and she wrote Louis’s POV, so the viewpoints shift a bit and it’s not written like a normal fic. This is more meant to give y’all a taste of the AU we came up with together, so be kind xx

--

Louis knew, logically, he should’ve been running for the hills, far away from this life and this man, try and salvage a way to forget about his missing little finger.Yet, he wanted to just lay with Harry, breathe him in.Louis quickly scurried to the master bathroom to wash his face with some warm water and peer around at what looked like to be a freshly cleaned and spruced bathroom, by one of his maids no doubt.He came back out to find Harry was still not there, so he climbed on his large bed, legs crossed, sitting upright and swimming in the large silk pajamas Harry has given him to wear. Even with the drawstring of the pants tightened all the way, his waist was still too small for it to wrap around completely.

Harry entered soon, and smiled to himself when he saw Louis sitting in his bed, surrounded in loose silk. He looked beautiful, so out of place in Harry’s big clothes, and yet it seemed to make perfect sense he was there.Louis looked at Harry, eyed tired and wide, vulnerable.“Lay with me.. please,” he asked softly, eyes flickering the open space on the bed next to him. “Please, sleep here with me..” he started to beg, uncaring if he sounded desperate. “I— I don’t want to be alone right now,” he sniffled, beginning to squirm with neediness.

Harry moved quickly to come over to the bed and kissed him.

“I’ll hold you, just lay down, sweetheart,” Harry coaxed. He pulled back the covers on the opposite side of the bed, moving next to Louis. He realized he chosen a side of the bed just for himself, always content to just sprawl in the middle of the mattress. He had never picked a side for his own bed, never had anyone to share it with.

Once he was under the covers Harry pulled Louis close to him, cradling his petite body. He knew Louis was small but had never felt him like this, so loose and dwarfed next to Harry’s own body.

Louis exhaled contentedly. He burrowed between Harry’s plush pectorals, inhaling his heady alpha scent. He nuzzled him, scented him, bringing his knees up to curl in slightly, small feet disappearing into the bottom of the silk pants. The nub where his little finger used to be throbbed, a dull pain radiating from there to his whole hand. The doctor had given him two small pills that seemed to dull it, a bottle of a few still sitting in the room he was examined for later.

He was a little fuzzy, from his fading adrenaline and being surrounded by his alphas scent. It was everywhere around him. His pajamas smelled of laundry detergent and him, his room smelling of cologne and his natural scent, bedsheets the same.Harry leaned down and nuzzled his nose into Louis’s shoulder. He still smelled so sweet, but his scent was laced with bitterness and fear, and it made Harry grip him tighter, digging his fingers into Louis’s back. There were guards in every nook and cranny of this house and its grounds, the worst thing that had happened to his home was a single broken window. But he felt like he was the last defense against Louis and anything in the outside world, he would do anything to protect him if he needed to. And still, his fingers shook a bit despite his tight grip, his nerves coming through.“This,” he started, and then swallowed, feeling his voice shake, “This is the first time I’ve had a b-b-boy in my b-bed,” he said, exhaling hard on the last word, rushing to get it out.Louis peered up at him blearily, eyebrows coming together slightly in a look of sympathy. He had no idea harry Harry a stutter. It sounded like more of a speech impediment than a casual fumble over words.“Oh, darling,” he exhaled the words, scooting up the bed slightly to put his face in his alphas warm neck, his pulse point throbbing erratically. “My sweet alpha,” he murmured gently, hand going to Harry’s messy head of curls, combing his fingers through it, all four of them.

Harry’s eyes and cheeks burned and he shook his head while the omega touched him and spoke to him so sweetly. Louis’s hand was so gentle in his hair, but Harry could feel where his hand had been bandaged and there was no longer a finger then. His stomach turned and he closed his eyes. “You got hurt because of me,” he said. The thought had been bouncing in his head for a long time, but it was bitter finally coming out. “I’m s—“The S lodged in his mouth, his tongue trapping it. He tried to purse his lips, coo, force it out like he had trained himself to do years ago. But his throat and tongue were both betrayed him, going stiff and choking him as he tried to speak.“S-s-s-s—“ he tried, and then squeezed his eyes shut again and whined weakly with frustration. He felt anger bubble inside him, but it wasn’t white hot rate, just frustration and underneath that, fear.He clung tightly to Louis’s fingers gripping at the loose fabric on the omega’s body, and he leaned in to breathe him in deep.“S-Sorry,” he finally breathed out.

Louis withdrew his face from Harry’s neck, hand still in his hair, looking at his alpha as he choked on the letter S, like he wanted it to come out, but somehow it was trapped in his mouth.

“Darling.. take your time,” he said softly, not even a touch antagonizing. He’d heard of people with speech impediments before, about stuttering and even those who had lisps or were completely mute. He had no idea Harry was one who had a stammer, and it make his frown deepen at the sight of Harry struggling to communicate with him. He’d figured Harry had trained himself or simply grown out of it, since he had no idea prior to this night, but the events had triggered it.

Harry felt dizzy and breathless with the effort of speaking, and he panted for a moment.“Done that since I was a k-kid,” he managed, swallowing hard after the last word. He felt his body tense, ready for Louis to laugh at him and tell him he was slow. He had heard it all before, but he didn’t know if he could survive it coming from Louis.“It’s— or for Pete’s sake, Harry, don’t you dare be ashamed, not for one second,” Louis scolded, hand moving from his hair to pet his scarred face, the keloid marks hard under his palm.He burrowed into Harry’s warmth, hands moving to caress both sides of the alphas face. He leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to his mouth, slow, no heat behind it, just a calm gesture of tenderness.He pulled away and pressed their foreheads together. He moved his head back and forth, rubbing their foreheads together in a gentle Eskimo kiss.Louis’s voice was a soft, gentle cooing as he spoke to harry, coaching him through his stuttering and comforting him. He touched Harry’s face gently, rubbing at his thick scar tissue and up over his stubble-covered cheeks. He came forward and kissed him gently, then rubbed their noses together in turn.

Harry wanted nothing more to melt into Louis’s touch, enjoy it fully. But instead he shut his eyes hard and felt a tear slip out, hot and angry. He felt hyper aware of the contrast between them, how Louis was so much smaller, prettier, and gentler than he was. And how he was injured, a part of him taken away he could never get back, and it was Harry’s fault. And Harry didn’t even have to balls or the tongue to tell Louis he loved him. He wanted to push Louis away, but he also wanted to pull him closer, savor every second before he gave Louis a way out. “Louis,” he said slowly. His voice felt a bit more solid, and he pressed hard on his words, trying to get each one out. “Louis, you — I’m not good for you.”He pressed his eyes closed hard, trying to prevent the tears from coming out, but they were already there.“I’m too old and ugly and married to my work and I get angry,” Harry said. “I got your fucking finger cut off, and I can’t even talk right.”He took a long breath, and his voice shook as he spoke again. “Why do you want to stay with me?” He asked, “You should find someone better. You should be happy.”

Louis pulled away from Harry, eyebrows pulling together and downwards at Harry’s words. He pulled back completely and sat up, legs and arms crossed. Harry cringed was Louis moved away from him, and then sat up, leering over Harry and glaring at him in the dark. He tried to sit up on his elbow, grunting as he tried to move his body up.“Listen to me, and listen well,” Louis said, eyes narrowed and beady, tone venomous, “You have no right, absolutely none, to tell me what’s good for me, is that clear? From day one I told you I’m my own omega and I can make my own decisions. I chose you to court me because that is what I wanted. So don’t you dare for a second assume you know what’s best for me, Harry Styles.” “This,” he held his damaged hand up and waved it in Harry’s face, the bandage a bit red on the tip where some excess blood had seeped through. “This is evidence enough I’m here for the long haul. The fact I didn’t run for the hills the second this happened should be proof that I—“ he choked on his words for a second and groaned, gesticulating with his uninjured hand.“That I love you, you miserable fatass!”Harry just blinked. Because amongst the insult Louis had just tossed at him, was the most beautiful word Harry had ever heard. “You love me?” Harry asked softly. “But — but why?”He rushed on, already seeing Louis frown. “I mean...” he trailed off. “I love you. I really do. You are the first person I gave loved in a long time. But why would you love me?”He twisted his fingers, looking down. He felt his stutter rearing up, slipping in and choking him as he tried to speak.“Is it my m-money? Because you can find someone else with money, someone b-better than m-me.”

Louis narrowed his eyes at his alpha, tilting his head to the side. “I take offense to that, I’ll have you know. You know damn well I have my own money. I make my own money. Sure, it’s not as much as you, but I have a top floor loft and priceless collectibles and money to burn. I want no one for their money, Harry, don’t flatter yourself.”Harry swallowed hard, clasping his hands together.“I can try to take c-care of you. But I don’t know if I c-can. Not the way you deserve.”He turned sincere for a moment. “Harry, I don’t want to be taken care of. I’m not a helpless omega or a damsel in distress that you need to rescue. Sure, tonight getting my pinky lobbed off before I could perform sort of tossed a wrench in that, but, you didn’t rescue me.. you helped me, Harry. That’s all I want from you, from.. from.. us, a mutual understanding and respect, and for you to know I’m not just your omega, but I’m a person, too,” he said, voice more quiet and vulnerable.

Harry blinked, biting down a bit on his tongue to keep himself from piping up as Louis spoke.

The omega in front of him was small, even smaller looking while drowning in Harry’s pajamas and in his big bed, but his body bristled and he spoke quickly and harshly.He softened as he spoke, and then, suddenly, he was yawning and collapsing into Harry, grabbing his arm. He inched closer to Harry, laying down once more and snuggling close into his warmth. “I’m tired, Harry.. will you hold me, please? Your doctor gave me quite a heavy dose of painkillers, and I think they’re working..” he yawned, wrapping both of his arms around Harry’s thick forearm, nuzzling his cheek into his warm palm.Harry lifted the covers, drawing them more firmly over top of Louis. When he was done he put his hand on the back of Louis’s head, drawing him closer to his chest. The omega was going soft and pliant in his arms, sleepy with exhaustion and pain pills. Harry kissed his forehead and held him carefully, setting his other hand on Louis’s hip to keep him grounded. “Sweet dreams,” Harry said softly. He looked down at Louis, slowly slipping off in his arms. The first time an omega had slept with him in this bed. The first time Harry had let an omega get this close to him.With Louis drowsy in his arms, he thought about what Louis said he wanted. An equal partnership, to stand on his own two feet. Harry hadn’t thought about mating in years, but in the back of his mind, he always assumed he would be the provider and keep the same control he had over the rest of his life. But Louis was breaking that all apart, and Harry wasn’t sure if he minded.

[gayferatu]

Do you take Ship requests? If so, could I get one for The Hobbit & Lotr? I'm a Bisexual Girl, an INFP, Autistic, Aquarius, Artist and Witch. I'm very introverted, incredibly chaotic and strange, and also intelligent, witty, existential, gentle, curious, creative and very determined. I'm very short and kind of dress like a Goth. I love cryptids, folklore, death and burial rituals, d&d, fantasy, literature, history and witchcraft/the occult. I draw, write, hoard books and cool knives. Thanks!

Yes I do!! You sound awesome pls be my frend.  I am new to this, my first ship! It kinda turned into a small fic but I hope you like it!!!!! My imagination kinda went wild.

I ship you with Legolas. Now hear me out...

He’s an elf and people think he doesn’t show his emotions but we all know that’s not true. He’s just a bit...different about it.

When you first meet him, it’s a bit scary. He’s a prince, an elf and devastatingly beautiful. But as you get to know him during the first weeks of travel, you start to realise that that’s not all, he’s just as witty as you, his tongue sharp and you find yourself smiling to yourself as he quips back and forth with the surly dwarf Gimli. You don’t notice him noticing you then, though. He’s surprised by it, that he likes to make you smile and their banter becomes unstoppable, Legolas initiating most of it. And then he starts to include you. Asking you for confirmation when he slights Gimli, smiling devilishly. Or slowing to come to walk beside you and points out when Pippin’s trousers have a rip in the back, exposing his drawers and you both chuckle secretively, sharing jokes.

When the jokes turn to conversation, it’s about legends and myths and you trade them with fervor, drinking in all the knowledge and stories he’s heard in all his years. He enjoys telling you these tales and stories, seeing your eyes light up, spelling words or placenames in the Elven tongue for you when you take notes.

Maybe one night you’ll all be gathered around the fire and the atmosphere is friendly, everyone fine for now, settling nicely into comraderie despite some of the heartbreak and tragedy of the journey so far. You’ll have pulled out your notebook, one of the few ‘unnecessary’ items you allowed yourself to lug around Middle Earth. And you draw him, fine lines of a relaxed brow, his eyes closed as he sits by the fire, hair neat as always (How does he do it? You never see him comb it...). Until you find yourself staring, sketch half forgotten and you’re taking in his features, realising not for the first or last time how beautiful he is. Deep in thought, you wander, imagine sitting next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder, to reach and touch his hair. Trace a finger over the sharp point of his ear so different from yours.

You didn’t notice his eyes opening and finding yours until you become very aware that he is smiling, and staring, at you. You flush, caught and you reprimand yourself as you bring your gaze back to your notebook. Probably won’t finish that sketch.

-

Days later you find yourself in a similar situation, he’s there again, on the other side of the fire, talking low with Aragorn. His posture is similar and you decide to finish that drawing after all, taking some liberties with the lighting. You’re almost finished, shading some last details along the line of his lips when the notebook disappears from your sight and you hear Merry’s gasp of delight. He praises you loudly, drawing the attention of your companions. You stand now, protesting and trying to chase the damn Hobbit down but the notebook is being passed now from Hobbit to Hobbit, even Sam and Frodo joining in on admiring your work. You hope he hadn’t noticed and you turn, to check and of course... He’s already looking, and so is Aragorn. And Gandalf. Who is now standing behind a happily smiling Pippin as he holds the notebook and plucks it from his grasp. His eyes twinkle a bit as he looks, then finds your gaze.

You glare. Trying to threaten the wizard with...whatever. It doesn’t work and the smirks. Damn that meddling old man. He turns to Legolas who is now curiously regarding the goings on. His hands find the battered book, he’s held it often before as you shared stories with him but this time his eyes are wide with wonder, hands gentler as he almost cradles the paper in his hands. Your pulse is quick now, what will he say? Will he like it? Will he ask why?

His gaze raises from the book, then lowers back to your face and he smiles. Really, really smiles. Bright and open and you know you’re screwed now, this stupid crush now burning in your belly, flame fanned by his words.

“Thank you. It is an honor.” It’s all he says but you glow with it. You hadn’t meant for him to see it, anyone, really. But this, this is worth it.

“May... May I have it?” His question is hesitant but his smile remains and so does his gaze in yours. You think about it for a second, rue to give up your work but decide his smile is worth many pages of your work. You watch him deftly remove the page from its binding and folding it gently in some fabric before it disappears in his pack.

The book is returned to you and his fingers graze yours, lingering for a moment before he dips his head and gives you another small smile that does nothing to calm you and you all return to your seats, conversation starting up again, and some finding their way to your through the night to comment on your skill and of course some noisy Hobbits request their own portraits.

They are denied.

-

It’s another few days later when he finds you away from the group, sitting on a log in a small outcropping, notebook on your lap, re-reading some of your notes. He had approached you silently and you startle when he greets you.

You’re pretty sure by his smirk that he had intended to do so. Stupid haughty prince. But you forgive him easily as he sits comfortably next to you and peers at your notes.

“I wanted to thank you again, for your portrait. You are very skilled at your craft. I had thought your work with the pen was for word, not art.”

You dip your head in thanks and mutter the same.

“It’s alright to take pride in it. You are talented.” He is smiling again and you hope that the realisation that he only smiles this way at you is real and not a figment of your imagination.

“I wanted to repay your gift. Even if I did ask to have it.” He looks sheepish for a moment before procuring a cloth wrapped item from inside his robe and places it in your outstretched palm. It’s heavier than it looks and you place it on your notebook, unraveling the dark brown weave. A beautiful elven dagger lays before you, small blue stones reminiscent of his eyes adorn the handle. You find his eyes and you see him look hesitant, unsure. It’s not a look you’re used to seeing on him.

But despite that, you feel a surge of happiness within you. A gift. Such a beautiful gift. He had seen your drawing of him worthy of being repaid so and you grin up at him. Toothy and eyes crinkling and you can’t control it or stop it.

“Thank you. It is an honor.” You repeat his words from that night back to him and his grin suddenly matches yours.

“Shall I teach you how to use it?” He’s still smiling and he stands as you place your book on the log next to you, one hand clutching the dagger, the other reaching for his outstretched hand. Warmth grows on your cheeks as his fingers wrap around yours when he pulls you up and does not relinquish them.

“I’d love that.”

“Not as much as I.”

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

okay so, i know i already have a request in the queue & this is probs selfish of me to ask, but would you pretty pls consider: “I apologise sincerely if my handsome face has kept you awake all night.” for Valdryn? or valdo x reader if you’d rather 💛

Fandom: The Witcher Pairing: Punk!Valdo x Punk!Aevryn Word Count: 973 Rating: T Taglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak @whatevermonkey @mynamesoundslikesherlock @kemmastan @magic-multicolored-miracle @writingstudent @mlleecrivaine @coffee-and-stories @amirahiddleston  @ultracolorfulnerdcollection @astouract @your-not-invisible-to-me @mycat-is-mylove  a/n: It’s a bit short and I hope I captured them well and I hope you like it broooo

Some nights Aevryn just looked at him.

He usually fell asleep before her, exhausted from a long day of working and more often than not taking care of people. She marveled at how much he’d grown, the star-crossed love of her life, and all of the near misses they’d had. If someone had told her when she met him that she would be here one day, lying next to him with a ring on her left hand and a promise to never be parted again, she would have laughed. If someone had told her that one day they would both a find a way through the hurt and heal from his betrayal, she would have punched them. And yet here they were.

In so many ways he was the same boy she’d met and fallen in love with as a teenager. He had the same unruly curls, spilling onto the pillow and against her shoulder as he lay next to him. The facial hair was new but it suited him well. The expressive eyebrows, now placid and relaxed as he slept, that punctuated his words and gave away his emotions were the same. Aevryn gently ran her finger along them and Valdo twitched his face but stayed fast asleep. He was still lanky but there was some more definition, seen clearly as he slept next to her, naked body tangled in the black cotton sheets. Aevryn’s finger moved down to trace the lovely mouth, capable of uttering the most ridiculous, bawdy jokes or the softest, sweetest declarations of love. There were little things that had changed, the hint of wrinkles at the corner of his eyes and around his lips. Sometimes she caught a glimpse of a grey hair that mysteriously disappeared before she could catch a second look. Yes, some nights Aevryn spent hours just looking at Valdo, still in awe that they’d fought their way back to each other. Valdo slept through it all, the stunning emerald eyes unseeing as the sea green ones gazed, and this was why he couldn’t have known that Aevryn would react so very badly at being woken up the next morning.

“Come on, Swift, we’re running late,” he called, playfully dropping a pillow on the mess of light brown curls that were half-obscured by blanket. Aevryn rose from the fluffy depths of the comforter just enough to level a glare so fierce Valdo actually physically recoiled a bit.

“Dearest?” he said, his voice much gentler and loving than it had been a moment before.

“Mm tired,” she muttered.

“Well… it is nearly 10:30 and we told Jaskier and Y/N that we’d be there by 10 and while I enjoy being fashionably late there is a limit,” he said, cautiously approaching the bed.

“What the bloody hell are you talking about?” she groused.

“We said we’d meet up with them for brunch,” he reminded her. Aevryn mumbled a string of curses and Valdo leaned to take a better look at her, concern creasing his face.

“Are you feeling alright, love? You’re not a morning person in general but you seem especially tired today,” he said as he pressed the back of his hand against her forehead, the other one finding her wrist to read her pulse. If anyone else had done this she would have thought they were joking but she knew he worried when he even suspected she was getting sick.

“I’m find, V, I just stayed up too late last night,” she murmured.

“You were in bed with me all night,” he argued, “I know I slept through it but I always wake up if you leave the bed so unless you did some bizarre Indiana Jones trick, you were here.”

“I was in bed but I didn’t sleep.”

“What’s wrong?”

Aevryn had been trying to find a way around it but she knew there was nothing to do but admit it before he started calling an ambulance or scheduling a psychiatric evaluation.

“I was up late staring at your face, ok?” she barked. Valdo’s face shifted from concerned to confused.

“My face?”

“Yes.”

“Was there something… wrong with it?”

“No,” Aevryn huffed, “Your face was perfect as always.”

“So you were just awake staring at my face because of how perfect it is?” he clarified. She shrugged begrudgingly, grumpy from lack of sleep and from the smug look that overcame his face.

“So really, this is your fault!” she accused, jabbing a finger into his chest.

“I apologize sincerely if my handsome face has kept you awake all night,” he crooned, climbing back into the bed next to her. “How can I make it up to you?”

“You can let me sleep,” she said hopefully, batting her eyelashes at him winningly.

“Oh love, as much as I hate to deny you the things you want, especially when they involve staying in bed, I think that Jaskier and Y/N were quite hoping to speak with us about something. Perhaps something about a certain ultrasound that was done recently that would tell us the sex of the baby?”

As soon as Valdo’s words were spoken Aevryn shot up in bed.

“Oh my god! The ultrasound! Oh, fuck you should have led with that! How dare you let me stay in bed so long Valdo Marx!” she cried, nearly tumbling face first to the ground as she tried to extract herself from the bedding. Valdo caught her nimbly and took advantage of the sudden closeness to press a soft kiss to her lips that nearly made her forget her hurry. But only nearly. She rose back up and he gave her a little swat as she hurried to the bathroom, assuring her that he’d have the car ready when she got out, still grinning to himself as he thought about how very adorable his wife was.  

[until-we-fall-in-love]

creature-song: part two

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, light Steve Rogers x Reader, light Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers, light Wanda Maximoff x Bucky Barnes

Summary: You should turn away. But you let it happen, let it happen because some dark, most trapped part of you wants to. A piece of you that you have chained like an animal, a mongrel bitch, and tried to let die. It paces inside you now, hungry and waiting and ready.

1600s America AU, Witch!AU, Possessed!Bucky, Gothic, Horror

Warnings: Smut, gore, violence, demons, possession, sacrilegious themes. This is 18+ as most of my works are.

If you are under 18 you should not be reading this!

A/N: hey guys! here is the second and last part to this fic! pls enjoy and let me know what you think!!

Here is Part One

***

You are born anew, suddenly coltish on newly powerful legs. You are flushed with color, your hair shining and eyes that can simmer into ember orange and serpent yellow. You are different from Wanda; she reveres you with new respect in equal measures that she treats you like a new, bratty princess that needs to be guided and taught and scolded. 

She says she serves you, becomes so protective that you can hardly leave her sight. If anyone dares utter your name with anything but respect, they are falling ill with oozing boils and welts. She is merciless, possessive. She makes your head spin. She teaches you the ways of the witch, forces your chin up higher and calls you Dark One, Hidden One, Princess of Night, Queen of Beasts. 

You do not know when the demon speaks for Bucky or when Bucky speaks for the demon. He becomes even more protective, aggravated. You feel powerful, feel free and wild and savage. 

You’re no longer freezing and shivering.

You crawl into Bucky’s lap and sink down upon him, even when he is clear-eyed and gentler with you. You let him take you on your stomach like a snake when his eyes are blackened with the demon. He becomes yours. You become his.

Wanda teaches you magic, teaches you around a flickering flame before she lays you out and makes you hers, too. 

More bodies appear, dripping in velvet red and a lovely shade of pink. You grow apathetic. Wanda is cursing too many.

Rumors spread like wildfire. It’s easy to target the pariahs of the village, even more so when you three have become the monsters they’ve always wanted you to be. But at least you claim it now, at least it is yours and you love it, you love your power and the rabid wolf in you that has been released in all it’s feral glory. 

Wanda is accused of witchcraft, followed quickly by you. Your neighbors gawk and stare and whisper behind their ugly hands that you wish to see crushed with stone or cut cleanly off. How many times can you break a finger bone? 

But you and Wanda turn wide, girlish eyes on them. You pretend to be sweet, huddle together the way they think females should cower. 

Steve defends you both, scolds them for daring to think so. Your golden boy, your lion-hearted man.if he notices the change in you, he cannot speak it loud, perhaps for fear of making it true. 

So good, so gracious and kind. A Godly man, if it weren’t for the bent part of him. You can feel it now, in his thoughts that you worm into. In the way his eyes linger on Bucky’s form. On yours and Wanda’s. 

You don’t know how to tell him that there is something twisted inside him, too, that you can’t wait to devour him. So you lick your lips as lioness, she wolf, sharp-toothed fox, and wait for him to come to you.

***

The days are brief; darkness cradles the world at a tender hour. You and Wanda thrive in it, wander out to the woods with a candle, and roll around upon the forest floor together. She strips you bare, plays too close to the edge of town because she likes the thrill of being caught. You laugh and moan and grab at each other, sink teeth into vulnerable skin and shake and shiver like the final leaves upon the spindly, reaching trees. 

And from the edges, someone watches. Eyes, impossibly blue and shining in milky starlight.

Steve crouches low, hiding in the shadows like some perverse and unsettled man. He shouldn’t, but he follows you and Wanda out into the darkness. He suspects something, in the pit of his stomach, suspects something awful and he follows in hopes of being proved wrong. He hopes it’s innocent. So he watches with wide eyes and a trembling heart as you both lose your wool dresses and shawls and underthings. He shouldn’t look, God, oh God, he knows he shouldn’t watch this—

But something inside him begs him to stay. His heart is in his throat, palms suddenly clammy and cold. He can’t quite believe what he’s seeing. The dim candlelight is made into a small bonfire and your bare, twisting bodies are illuminated for him. 

He watches as your lips fall down to Wanda’s chest, makes her laughs turns into gasps as she pulls at your hair that unravels over your shoulders and back. Wanda forces you down, sinks into your lap and hooks a leg of yours over hers, fits you two together by your cores until both your hips move in tandem.

He watches you kiss the way lovers do, with a vicious tenderness, with a searing sort of love. He’s jealous, he realizes stupidly, unable to even breathe as he watches you both raptly.

His fingers dig into the bark of a tree, scratching the way you do at Wanda’s shoulders. He swallows thickly at the noises you make, knows this is sin. Knows this is damnation. 

He should forsake you both. He should never look upon either of you again and go back home to say a thousand burning prayers.

But he’s shaking by the time you’re both finished, his cheeks flushed and eyes shining. He is hungry, he realizes, near desperate. 

You’re witches, he thinks, you’re something evil and corrupted and twisted. He should tell a minister, he should try to make you both repent on bent knees and your eyes cast downward, the fan of your lashes against your warm and soft cheeks—

When he finally tears himself away with a half growl of frustration, his trousers are constricting, too tight and damning evidence. He aches in the most inner parts of him.

You and Wanda giggle, your laughs carrying on the twisting, cold wind that pushes at Steve as he storms away. As if you both know how he longs, as if the wind knows, too. 

***

Your nights are fever dreams of hands and warm, slick mouths. Fingers between lips and legs, hands wrapped tight around your throat, your breasts, your legs. Bathed in blood or arousal or mercury moonlight. You lose count of the bodies as you grow stronger each day, able to move things with your mind. Or curse and strike someone down. You float through daylight, warm even as snow begins to fall and everyone and everything withers away into death.

You and Wanda are accused of witchcraft. They tear through the village looking for you two and when they find you both, Wanda pushes you behind her, bares her teeth and growls into the cold air so it curls upwards like smoke, like a dragon. 

They near with their sludge faces and greedy, grabbing hands. They curse you as witches and suddenly seize you both with their frigid fingers that pull and prod at your soft skin. 

“Don’t touch her!” Wanda snarls like a wild thing and you latch tight to her wrist, her hand, before you are being pulled away.

Others grab at Wanda and they try to separate you two. Wanda thrashes, her eyes flooding with red when you shriek in pain as others start twisting your arms, trying to wrench you away from her. It feels as if you’re being torn apart, stitching to be ripped and unwoven. You feel suddenly feral, twisting and turning to try and slip free.

“Let her go!” Wanda says again and there is a ringing to her voice, a power that surges. Her nails dig into your skin and you hold as tightly as you can as arms wrap around your middle and lift you clear off the ground. They pull at you, vicious and unforgiving.

You fight with all you have, yell and snarl, throw yourself towards Wanda but they tear you both apart kicking and screaming.

You don’t realize when you start sobbing through clenched teeth, but you do. As if they’re torturing or killing you, as if they’ve ripped out your heart. They drag you through the streets like an animal and you want to kill them all, you want to paint everything in their blood. You want to watch Bucky dismember them, you want to dance on their grave and pin Wanda to the cold stone to feel her body against yours.

The men tear at your clothes because they can, because they’re greedy and you scream. Wanda hears you, and there is a sudden pulse from her, a shriek, before some of the men around her are thrown backwards from her. She fights harder, but is overtaken again. 

They haul you both to a cold and darkened prison. They throw you in separate cages, though connected. Wanda and you push against the bars to touch and speak with each other. She strokes your wet cheeks, tries to soothe you. 

“I won’t let them near you,” She murmurs, “I won't let them touch you again. I’ll kill them before I let them.” She tells you with heat, her red eyes shining with tears as she holds your face through the hateful, metal bars that are rusted and rough. 

When they return, they demand to check you both for devil’s marks, witch’s marks. One man nears you with outstretched hands and Wanda seethes, hisses through her teeth and jerks her head slightly to the left—

The man’s neck snaps in the same direction,  cracks sickly, and he falls dead at your feet. You can sense his soul now departing. You grow chilled, the veil between your world and the next shimmering before your eyes. 

You skitter back and away, into Wanda’s hands and arms as she hushes you. Her nose drips scarlet blood now, eyes fever bright in the darkness. The men stare in fear and repulsion, horror in their faces and you stare back at them with the same repulsion and terror. 

They shouldn’t touch you, shouldn’t grab at you. Who are they to try and twist you and cage you both? All they’d done was cage you— your whole, smothered life. All they’d done was made you hate who you are and what you’d become or hadn’t become. They’d tried to make you grey and slack faced and cold and unfeeling. They tried to make you housewife and child of God and mother of many sons.

Your minister says you were born in sin.

So what was the point, then? You had railed, had searched and begged and prayed for answers and received none. Be quiet, they’d wanted, be silent and still and look beautiful and serene but not so beautiful that you should tempt the men and you—

You hadn’t breathed until Wanda had shown you the ways of a new life. You’d been so free with her, with Bucky. With Steve.

“We will be free once more.” Wanda promises in your ear and it slithers down between your shoulder blades and settles in the notches of your spine as you peer at the men in the darkness with their open, grasping hands. 

***

A trial is had. 

They want to hang you both for your crimes. 

Steve defends you, swears as witness and under God that he’s only ever seen you both be angels. And if there has been discretion, he is certain your souls can be saved.

Why are they so close? It’s unnatural, is it not? 

Not for two orphans, Steve says, not for two girls who only have each other.

People say that Miss Maximoff has killed with a look because someone touched the other.

Impossible, Steve counters. She is frightened, he presses, she is protective. They are all each other has.

Shouldn’t they have found husbands by now? 

They’ve no mother to guide them. Take pity on them, he says, they are lost and searching.

Does our scripture not say to take in the weary and lost? Steve cries, face honest, as he says;

They have done no wrong. 

He lies through his teeth for you both, the twisted part of him growing like a gnarled tree root, spreading deep into him. 

And when he visits your cells, you rush towards the bars to touch him, to thank him. 

Wanda is there, too, trying to press through the bars to you and him. 

“Oh, Steve,” You whisper, your fingers reaching through the bars to touch his face, his pale hair. You brush over his cheeks as he gazes at you.

“You shouldn’t defend us.” You tell him, “They’ll hang you, too, if you’re not careful.”

“I won’t let them hang you.” Steve says as if he could move mountains and there is your Greek hero; going up against immeasurable odds. “You won’t.” He promises like Wanda, “I’ll set you free.”

The words are pressed into your jaw, just below your ear. You become aware of all that he’s willing to do for you both and you pull back to stare at him slightly, at all of him.

“Do not lie the way you did to the jury and the judge.” You hiss to him, nails skimming his face now.

“I-I didn’t—“

“I know you saw us in the woods that day.” You tell him lowly, your voice coaxing and soft and breathy. “I know you saw us sin.” You tell him as your own eyes suddenly shimmer into the orange of a liquid sunset.

Steve swallows harshly, cheeks aflame.

You grab at the back of his neck, pulling him close so that your lips brush his between the jagged bars. 

“I know that you liked watching. And that you love me and Wanda and Bucky too much to be scared.” You nudge your nose to his cheek and sigh as if you are in love, “You’re so loyal, Steve.”

He stammers, “W-what does Bucky—“

But he knows the answer and you kiss him lightly upon the lips before he departs.

Your sweet sighs and coaxing fingers have him singing with heat, knowing that no matter how he tried, he wouldn’t have wanted it to be any other way than this. Sin or not, you awaken something inside his chest, a bird finally taking flight and he won’t lose that. He can’t. Just like he can’t lose Bucky or Wanda, either. 

Bring all that you have, he thinks of the church and the minister and the town, and I will plant myself like a tree between them, and stand there forever more. 

Little does he know, they will thoroughly test that; they’ll bring axes and fire and sing and dance with ugly faces and feet when he goes up as a pyre for you and Wanda to be staked upon.

***

The room smells of sick when Steve enters; it is damp and dark and sweltering for November. Bucky twists in the sheets of bed, a fire roaring and snapping gently in the fireplace. He is sweaty and shining and red in the face. He looks pale, though, stricken and weak and the heavy bags beneath his eyes seem as if they’ve gained even more weight. 

Bucky grew ill early into the morning and has only gotten worse since. He’s thrown up black bile again, Steve can see it in the bucket beside his thin, lumpy bed. 

Bucky’s eyes are shining when they fall on Steve and he reaches out to him like he is a boy again, sick and in bed and begging for his mother. Steve goes to sit beside him, 

“There’s something horrible in me, Steve.” Bucky rasps, “I’m trying to get it out. You have to help me.” 

Steve shakes his head, places his palm upon Bucky’s forehead, “It’s just a fever.” He says dismissively and Bucky grabs his wrist, holds his hand to his clammy and hot face. He presses his forehead into Steve’s palm, squeezes his eyes shut.

“Steve,” He says, low and desperate, his voice ragged, “Steve, it’s not just a fever.” 

And then Bucky’s body seizes, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he goes straight and tight as an arrow, ready to be shot. Steve’s eyes widen, concern flooding him as Bucky’s body seizes sharply.

“Bucky,” He hisses, just as Bucky begins shaking violently, body twisting. Steve tries to hold him still, but his tremors grow too strong, too brutal and hysterical. “Buck!”

Steve grapples for his shoulders, to hold him down hard against the bed, leaning down and using all his strength and weight to try and pin him down. He fears he’ll hurt himself, fears the worst—

Bucky’s hand- the false, metal one- shoots out to grab Steve around the back of his neck and when his eyes snap open, they are blazing, coal black. 

Black as night. A starless sky.

Steve’s heart jumps as if it might leap from the nest between his ribs. 

“Oh, Stevie,” He says in a higher, breathy voice, “You’re so loyal, Steve.” He says in the same way that you had and Steve tries to lurch away, suddenly shocked and frightened.

But Bucky holds tighter, unnatural strength in that metal limb that keeps Steve from bolting to the other side of the room. Steve’s breaths grow ragged, his chest rising and falling quickly, fluttering in a way that he is not familiar with. 

“You lied for them in front of the court. Swore to your God that you’d never seen them sin.” Bucky says in a slithering, inky voice. It reverberates inside of Steve’s mind, sinks down his throat and into his chest and core—

“But you saw them.” He says slowly, “You saw the way they touched and rolled around on the ground like animals in heat.”

Steve is shaking, breathing hard through his nose.

“And you liked it,” Bucky growls, his voice infinite and pushing at him, “You thought about it. You think of their naked bodies—“

“Bucky—“ Steve tries to stop him, before his heart falls out through his stomach.

“Not quite,” the black-eyed creature hums lowly, twisting slightly beneath Steve’s hands so that their chests may touch. “But I am a catalyst for his desires. I set him free. I set them free.” He tilts his head at an odd angle, a serpent about to strike, “And I can set you free, too.”

“No.” Steve tries to jerk away again but the grip on him is bruising, inhuman. 

He leans towards him, “I know how you look at him.” He hisses through teeth that seem sharper, too close to his vulnerable neck, “I know how he looks at you.” 

“I don’t—“

He jerks Steve closer, so their lips almost brush. “Don’t deny yourself,” He breathes and this time, it seems like Bucky, the voice rough and soft and pulling at tendons in Steve’s soul. “You can have him. And them.” And Bucky finally releases him, strokes the back of his neck like a lover, twists his hands in the blond of his hair.

Steve longs to relax into it, to settle into Bucky’s bones. But—

Bucky sags against the bed, eyes rolling again, until they flutter back into the blue that Steve knows in the depths of his person. Like the blue of early evening, of stone and winter.

Steve shifts off of him, hands going to his face, his neck, “Are you okay?”

Bucky pales, suddenly twists out of Steve’s grasp and spews black blood and bile into the bucket beside the bed. He wretches, whole body shuddering and seizing. 

And Steve runs his broad palm along his flank, brushes hair from his face the way a parent would, the way a lover would.

When he’s finished spilling his guts and blood into the bucket- black rust and gore, he wipes his mouth, turns back into the bed and tries to hide from Steve.

“You’re right, it’s not just a fever.” Steve says dryly and allows the room to fall into stiff, unforgiving silence. 

After a moment, after the silence becomes overbearing for him, a weight upon his shoulders and throat, as if it wants him to feel the weight of his sins, Bucky speaks;

“I did horrible things.” 

His voice is shredded and somber as he waits for Steve, so golden and bright and good, to leave him in horror.

“It wasn’t you.” Steve hushes, touches his neck.

Bucky goes still as stone.

“Yes, it was.” Bucky squeezes out, “I was present. I let Wanda lead her to me like a lamb to slaughter.” His eyes flutter up to Steve as he breathes, “I took her. Not the demon. I woke to her in my arms, desperate and soft, and I—“ 

Steve can’t breathe.

“I was the first to take her.” He releases the truth like a wind that suddenly rushes forth, a dam broken. His voice breaks, too, “She was so sweet, Steve—“

Steve inhales sharply, settles back, surprised and unsure. His mind whirls, body flushing with heat and something it shouldn’t. Guilt then, for anything other than repulsion. He shouldn’t be curious, shouldn’t want to hear Bucky’s rough, low voice tell him about what you two did when the moon was high and the only witness. He shouldn’t want to know, he shouldn’t think of you and Wanda and you soft, curving bodies; your desperate groans and hungry, seeking lips. 

He shouldn’t think about the way his chest had touched Bucky’s, how his heart had beaten a new tune. A damned song. He exhales harshly, and bitterly, wishes he knew how sweet you were, too.

Bucky is sick for three days and three nights as he tries to purge the demon from him, the soldier of a devil. His eyes will roll into winter black and spew vile, twisting words, or soft, enchanting words. Steve doesn’t leave his side, holds his shaking body when the blue returns. He feeds him and undresses him only to redress him. He bloodlets, cuts a mark to let sizzling blood rush out of Bucky in hopes of purging him. The demon tests Steve, purrs about his desires or hisses his sins. But it’s Bucky’s earnest face, his eyes that water and soften on Steve when they return blue, that really devour all of Steve’s resolve.

Especially when Bucky hides in the crook of his neck, shuddering breaths against his shoulder, holding fast and tight to him as if Steve is the very last thing keeping him tethered to this realm. He holds him when his body seizes, holds him until he doesn’t know what sin is or isn’t anymore. 

***

You and Wanda are to be hanged the following day at dawn. 

The court has decided so and when Steve had disappeared for several days, there is no man to defend you. There is no one their pale, blurry faces will listen to besides Steve. Besides, when someone tries to take you from Wanda again, they seize up and are twisted into a strange angle. 

Their bones break like brittle branches under Wanda’s power. She crushes their skull with nothing but her mind; it bursts like a berry and splatters against you both. Against all the grey, slack faces that persecute you. Wanda grows feral and fearsome, she grows anxious and possessive of you. 

And now, you both wait for your deaths. She holds you through the bars as best as she can, stroking your hair. She is strangely calm now, soothed with you near and safe for now. 

Perhaps you should be more fearful; fearful of death, of what may come after for all your sins. 

But you can only settle further into Wanda and wonder who decided it was a sin to love her. To love being touched and to live simple and wild and free. You’d die with your soul spread wide, like a flock of crows, in the least. 

Perhaps, you are also calm because you do not feel death upon you. He is not near you or Wanda. The rats do not scuttle towards you, the insects do not linger. No ravens to caw. 

So you both wait. 

Wait until there is a thump and rushed footsteps against the stones of the prison. You tense, half expecting someone to burst forth and drag you both from your cells kicking and screaming. You worry you were wrong, you worry that you know nothing about death or when he lurks--

Gold light of flame spills forth from the darkness, bursting forth from the corner.

It is Steve who rounds the corner, holding a lantern with a burning flame at its center. Bucky follows after. You and Wanda shift up, your eyes narrowing slightly upon the two. For a terrifying moment you wonder if they’ve been caught, too. Will they swing beside you and Wanda? 

But no-- no, Steve lifts the flaming lantern to see you both. You scuttle away from the light like a creature born of the shadows. 

“Hurry,” Steve says, handing Bucky the jangling keys. “We don’t have much time.” 

Bucky works quickly as you stare in slight astonishment on him, now without the demon that had been clinging to him for so long. However, something remains, something tormented inside of him that will never rest easy. 

When the metal creaks open, you lurch forward, towards Steve. “You’re freeing us?” 

“I promised I would.” Steve responds, honest and simple. 

“What do we do now?” You ask, staring up into his face. 

“We run.” He says with a slight, wry smile at his lips. You want to taste it, you think. You want to tackle him, to crawl into his arms and show you how grateful you are for him. 

“And then?” You breathe.

“I don’t know,” He says, peering into golden, dancing flame of the lantern, but there’s hope traced on the edges. As if maybe there could be something peaceful after all of this, as if maybe you all deserved more than the fires of hell.

But there is no time to talk, there is nothing to be done except become fugitives, spirits stealing away in the night. You walk lightly, Wanda’s small hand in yours, pulling you along the way she always has. You cling to the back of Bucky’s shirt, sometimes he eases you and Wanda in front of him, touches your shoulders and your backs to know that you’re real and still his. 

Steve guides, the lantern in his hand swinging, trying to banish the darkness with the light. He wades into the forest, where he doesn’t know, with his burning flame a bloom against the night. 

The light is obvious, though, and there is a commotion when you are all spotted. 

Shouts, curses, declarations are shouted at you. They ready weapons, ready their hounds, and set them loose upon the four of you. The ugly, open mouths of the towns people try to devour you all. They shout and sway, as if they are possessed with their need to kill you all. 

“Go!” Steve shouts, pushing you and Wanda onward with a rough hand, the light swinging in the darkness like a beacon. 

“Drop the lantern.” You suddenly say, your eyes sparking in the flames with the idea, “Drop the lantern and run!” 

He opens his mouth to question you, to force you onward. But you jolt forward, grab the lantern and knock it from his grasp. It falls from his hands, shatters upon the earth and the flame eagerly leaps out onto the dry, dead grass of the forest. 

Steve jumps out of the way as the smoke begins to curl.

“Let it burn.” You say, grabbing his forearm, trying to pull him along. It takes Bucky shoving at him, before Steve relents and you all take off into the forest like wolves, like foxes being hunted for sport.

The flame grows tall and quick, burning bright and hot against the black, bruised sky. The stars glimmer gold, shine down upon you all as you crash through the forest. The townspeople shout and shriek with the rising flames. 

Wanda laughs suddenly, bright and sharp and wicked and you can’t help but feel a smile creep upon your lips, too. You don’t look back as the fire hungrily eats at the grey bleakness of the town, burns it with blood red and furious orange and rust and the diamond-blue and bright part of the flame that glows like the moon. The town smolders in red now and your lungs burn as you run further from all its atrocities. 

You don’t stop running until the sun peeks through the trees, glowing of gold and robin’s egg blue. You look out at the clearing of a meadow, at the lake that shimmers under the sun, all peach and pearl and honey with the light. 

Your feet are weary, your head heavy and foggy, but Wanda is pressing into your side and Bucky is at your back and you are clinging to Steve’s shirt as you look out at the world.

And finally, you think, with smoke in the distance behind you, the wake of all your destruction, that this new world is filled with color and light you have been hungry for your entire, unforgiving life.