#not to mention Russian marked with ��🇺

[rynwritesreid]

You found me| Spencer Reid

A/N: you know that episode where Derek is making Garcia and Reid do a field/physical test? Yeah that is my inspiration for this😋

Summary: Spencer needs to get fit for a physical, and you know just the trick ;)

Content: Fem! Reader. BDSM themes (dom/sub dynamics). Primal play. Mentions of marking (tattoos and marks from spanking). Nicknames (only princess and good girl). Orgasm denial. Oral (both Male and female receiving). Spencer is our consent king in this though!)

Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation

Spencer had been working out, which for someone who had hated exercise and had turned you down every time you had invited him to come on a run with you, is weird. You wanted to ask him what was going on, there was obviously a chance he just wanted to get fit, but something was telling you that just wasn’t it.

You were sitting on your sofa, when you heard your front door unlock and Spencer come through. He was sweating and practically panting, you recognised this look though, it was someone who had just come back from a run. Instead of greeting you, he walked straight to the fridge grabbing a bottle of water

“Spencer, what’s going on? I have never once seen you go on a run. Is everything okay?” Spencer took a long swig of water before finally turning to face you, his breathing evening out. “Yeah, everything is okay. It’s just the FBI are making me, and Garcia do a physical.” He paused briefly, as he tried to catch his breath some more, “and as you know, I don’t work out, so I’m scared I’m not going to pass.”

You pat the side of the sofa next to you, inviting him to sit down.  “We’ll lucky for you, you’ve got your own personal trainer right here,” you tease, giving him a little wink. Spencer chuckles slowly as he takes a seat beside you, leaning back against the cushions.

“I don’t want you to go out of your way to train me.” Spencer has never been one to ask for help, and unless push comes to shove, he never takes the help people offer him. “I won’t be going out of my way to train you, and you know I love running.” Spencer doesn’t respond though, you know he will be thinking it through. “Plus, if you want, I can make it fun for you. I have a few tricks up my sleeve to make it enjoyable.” 

“Oh really? And what might those be?” he asks, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. You practically know everything about him, what motivates him, what makes him smile and laugh, and what makes him talk when he’s going through something. You could tell him that you’ll watch every single doctor who episode, or go to that Russian film festival with, but he knows you’d do that anyway. 

“I can make it a game, give you a reward,” you give him another wink. “But before I suggest anything, maybe you should do some homework, just to make sure it would be something you’d enjoy.” 

Spencer raises an eyebrow, “alright, I’m listening. What kind of game are we talking about here?” you let a small giggle, but you could feel your cheeks heating up. You had done what you were to suggest before, but not with Spencer because you thought he would hate every second of it. 

“Okay, don’t laugh at me, and you can absolutely say no.” But Spencer just smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I won't laugh, I promise. Tell me what you have in mind." You let out a sigh, “erm okay. I…” you pause, maybe you shouldn’t be bringing this up, but it’s too late now “oh god, okay I just need to spit it out. Maybe, we could turn it into primal pay.” You watch his reaction, but he just continues to smile at you, “you know what it doesn’t matter, I’m sorry.” 

Spencer's smile only widened at your suggestion, his eyes lighting up with amusement. "Primal play, huh? I've never tried that before," he said, clearly intrigued. "It could be fun to give it a go."

You couldn't believe he was actually considering it. Your cheeks flushed even more at the thought of what you had just proposed. "Are you sure? I mean, we don't have to if you're not comfortable with it." You fidgeted nervously, unsure of what his response would be.

*

Just like you knew he would, Spencer had researched everything there is to know about primal play. And, unlike what all his friends thought about him, Spencer was a very dominant person. You could psychoanalysis this and say it was because Spencer couldn’t give up control, not with everything he’s been through. But you also knew Spencer loves knowing you take care of him in ways no one else can. 

“So, I’ll be chasing you? That doesn’t seem fair, does it?” Spencer’s tone was thick, and questioning.  “Well, that’s because you need motivation. Plus, I’m already in tune with my body when I’m running. I know when to stop, when to slow down, how to control my breathing and when I should speed up. You need to learn this, and that’s how you’ll pass.” You grinned mischievously at Spencer as you explained your plan. 

While Spencer had been working and researching, you’d been planning out a route, one away prying eyes. Indecent exposure would most likely get Spencer fired, and that would wreck him. 

“Also, if you think about, you can chase me like I’m a criminal.” You let out a little giggle, while Spencer stared daggers at you. Spencer had done a lot of things to you, he has deprived you of all your senses but touch, he’s gone weeks without letting you cum because you’d pushed him a little to hard while meeting his friends, he’s made you beg, ride his thigh, spank you so much that the next morning it was hard to sit.  But this was new to him, and you didn’t want him to do something he was comfortable with. 

“And when I catch you, do you want me to treat you like a criminal?” Spencer sounded too cocky for someone who had just started running. You couldn’t help but laugh at him, “if you catch me Spencer, if. You can treat me however you like. But remember I get a 10 second head start, I’ve been running way longer than you, and I know these trails like the back of my hand.”

Spencer raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "I like the sound of that," he said, his voice low and husky. "It's on then."

“No cheating Spencer, I’ll know if you have started running before the 10 seconds are up. Okay?”  Spencer smirked, "I wouldn't dream of it."

You got yourself ready, mentally psyching yourself up. Spencer just stood there and watched, his eyes roaming all your body. “Okay, I’m going to start now Spencer.” And without any other warning you started, you’d done this before, you knew your body. 

This was second nature to you, you knew you could outrun him. You had gained a good amount of distance before you heard Spencer’s footsteps speed up. You knew that fear was all a part of this, it was part of the enjoyment. But Spencer been taller than you and having chased people far more dangerous than you made you nervous. 

“I’m going to catch you princess, you know I am. So why not just give up?” Spencer was taunting you. But you weren’t going to answer him though, that was just going to give up where you were. 

You felt your breathing pick up; your heart was starting to beat faster. “Princess?” Why was Spencer calling you? You knew he would say the safe word if needed. You could feel him getting under your skin, maybe that was all part of his plan.

You started to feel your shins start to burn, you knew you needed to give your body a little break, but you didn’t want him to catch you this early on. You found a tree that seemed big enough to hide, which allowed you to slow your breathing down.

Spencer could see you were slowing down, but he knew you wouldn't give up that easily. He had to be strategic in his approach. As he neared the spot where he thought you might be hiding, he slowed down his own pace, trying to listen for any signs of your whereabouts.

Just as he reached the tree you had hidden behind, you darted out from the other side, catching him off guard. His heart raced as he scrambled to catch up with you, his eyes locked on your back. "Gotcha!" he exclaimed, laughing as he tackled you to the ground.

Spencer was putting a fair amount of weight on you, ensuring you couldn’t wiggle free from him. His eyes were pinned on yours; he could see the fear in them. This is where he would normally stop and ask for verbal consent, but he had researched enough into this, and he knew you were scared of him.

“You did say I could do whatever I wanted to you, didn’t you?” Spencer’s tone was gently, he was making sure you were still okay with this, he wanted you to feel safe with him and that his wasn’t going to push you into something you didn’t want.

“Yes, Spencer, I did say that” you paused as you tried to catch your breath, “and I meant it as well.” 

Spencer smirked at your response, his eyes scanning the rest of your body, and he allowed you some more wiggle room. Maybe he knew what you were going to do and wanted you to fight back a little, or maybe he has just been nice. But once you realised you could move, you realised yourself from his grip. 

“Brat.” Spencer spat out as he watched you run away, “I caught you fair and square, Princess. I’ll catch you again.” You didn’t let up though, you just looked back a little and continued running.

But Spencer was determined to catch you again, but he also knew this was helping him train a little more. You could feel your legs start to hurt again though, but you didn’t want to stop, you couldn’t stop. Spencer saw you though, he watched as your pace slowed and knew he didn’t have to wait long before he could catch you again.

He caught up to you quicker than expected, his strong arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you close to him. You could feel his breath on your neck as he whispered, "Gotcha again, Princess."

Without any warning, Spencer lifted you of the ground and draped you over his shoulder, which made you realised he had obviously been weight training. “Why’d you run again, princess?”

You didn’t reply though and just allowed him to carry you back to your apartment. But by not replying, it made Spencer give you a firm spank, but you still didn’t react. You were still draped over his shoulder as he unlocked your front door, and as he reached for his handcuffs

You felt the cold metal of the handcuffs wrap around your wrist, securing them in place. You knew what was coming next; Spencer always played by his rules.

He carried you into your bedroom, laying you down on the bed. "I'm going to make you pay for running again, Princess." 

Spencer practically threw you on the bed, which allowed him to take of your trainers and running shorts. “Did you go commando just for me?” You gave him a small nod.

“Your glistening princess, does getting chased turn you on this much?” You blushed, feeling vulnerable and exposed in just your sports bra. "Yes, Spencer," you whispered.

“Now, I was promised a reward for catching you, but then you decided to run off again, which means I’m going to have punish you.” he tutted at you. “How am I going to punish you for that, huh?”

He retrieved a leather paddle from the closet. "This is going to sting a bit, princess," he warned as he raised the paddle high above your head. 

Spencer brought the paddle down hard on your thigh, making you cry out in surprise and pain. He gave you one more strike on the other thigh.

You squirmed beneath him, the pain from the paddle strikes mingling with arousal. You were both in pain and turned on. 

"Please, Spencer," you pleaded, "I won't run from you again."

Spencer smirked, his eyes roaming over your body as he held the paddle in one hand. "You're so beautiful when you're like this," he murmured, trailing his finger over your heated skin.

Spencer leaned down close to your ear, his breath teasing against the sensitive skin as he whispered, "I promise you, princess, I'll make sure you never want to run from me again."

Spencer started kissing your neck, this didn’t feel like a punishment though, this felt like his reward for you. Spencer lips seemingly were kissing you every part of your body, apart from the part that wanted him to the past. But that was long, his tongue and teeth glided over your clit, which caused you to let out a small loan. You knew Spencer loved doing this, he had once stated that if he died by suffocation by your thigh’s he die a happy man, so maybe he was giving himself the reward. 

Spencer’s tongue continued explore, it mainly focused on your clit, his fingers were curling up in your, which caused your hips to book. Which made Spencer stop, his chin was already dripping. “You know I love this tattoo” Spencer stated refer to the little teddy bear with S.R. initialled on its paws that sat just above your pubis bone.

He didn’t wait for your response and continued his assault on your clit. Your heart raced as Spencer's tongue and fingers continued their dance, and you couldn't help but arch your back, pushing yourself further into his expert touch. The feeling of his fingers curling inside of you, combined with the skilled attention he was giving to your most sensitive spots, was sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Spencer," you gasped, your voice barely a whisper as the intensity built within you. You could feel your orgasm rising like a tidal wave, and you knew that it was only a matter of time before you would crest over that edge.

Spencer smirked against your skin, his hands never faltering in their movements. He knew exactly what he was doing to you, and he revelled in the control he had over your pleasure.

You whimpered, needing him to continue, urging him on with your pleas and movements. But he seemingly didn’t care, you wanted to shout at him for stopping but you knew that wouldn’t get you anywhere.

He waited till he knew it had died down enough before starting again. His fingers curled inside of you again, and his tongue swept over your clit with expert precision. The sensations were overwhelming, and you knew that you were close once more.

"Spencer," you gasped, your voice barely a whisper as the intensity built within you. "Please," you pleaded, needing him to finish what he had started.

“Aww princess, do you want to come?” Spencer asked, his voice husky with desire. You knew he could hear the plea in your voice, and you couldn't help but blush at the thought of admitting your need to him.

"Yes, Spencer," you whispered, your voice shaky with emotion. "Please, I need to come.” 

Spencer pulled his fingers out of you; you felt your eyes start to water. He had done this before, but this time it felt mean. “Do you think it’s fair that you get to come first, even though you ran away from me when I caught you?” 

You shook your head at him, you didn’t want to speak as he would be able to hear your voice wobble. Spencer got off the bed and pulled you to sit up as your wrists where still handcuffed behind your back. 

You watched as he stripped himself out of his workout clothes. “Okay, princess. Get on the floor and kneel for me.”  With a deep breath, you nodded and slowly moved to kneel on the floor.

"Good girl," Spencer murmured, approaching you. He gently guided you to move between his legs, positioning yourself so that your face was level with his erection. "Now, open wide for me, princess."

You did as he instructed, opening your mouth obediently. Spencer grinned down at you before guiding himself into your mouth.

You could feel his throbbing member between your lips, and as he moved in and out of your mouth, you could taste the pre-cum that had collected there. Your eyes locked with his as you tenderly ran your tongue over the head of his cock, eliciting a moan from him.

"You're such a good girl," Spencer praised, his voice filled with arousal. "You always know just what to do to make me feel good."

You felt your eyes start to water again; he was basically choking you. Spencer placed his hand on the base of your skull, grabbing a handful of hair as he started to take control, his hips moving against your face.

You struggled to breathe as his grip on your hair tightened, but you didn’t really care about any of that right now. 

Spencer moaned loudly, his hips bucking against your face as he neared his climax. You could feel the tension building in his body, and you knew that it was only a matter of time before he would reach the peak of his pleasure.

"Princess," Spencer groaned, his grip on your hair tightening even more. But he didn’t have time to finish his sentence before you felt him cum down your throat. You looked up to him, and it was a sight to behold really. His lips were slightly parted, his body was glistening with sweat and it truly felt you were worshipping him like this.

You tried to pull away, struggling to breathe as his grip on your hair tightened, but he held you in place, forcing you to endure the sensation until he was satisfied. Finally, he released you, and you gasped for air, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

Spencer looked down at you, his eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and dominance. "Good girl," he said again, reaching down to stroke your hair gently. "I think you've learned your lesson."

Spencer helped you stand up, his eyes drifting to your knees he knew they were going to be bruised in the morning. “Now I think I should let you come now, huh princess.” 

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[rotzaprachim]

polyglots and language learners need to stop fucking using flags for languages like 🇪🇸 for Spanish was making me angry but I found out they use the Saudi flag 🇸🇦 for Modern Standard Arabic ok y’all can just fucking stop

[meirimerens]

damn i'd love to read them alleged VAs' papers too... don't know what else beyond the ages would be on here but i'd love to take a peep...

[mamasfavourite]

queen cobra

pairing: axel kovaćevic x reader

summary: the captain of cobra kai catches the eye of the captain of the iron dragons and manages to deal with her teammates and her crush on axel!

warnings: mentions of abuse, some swearing, kissing, fluff, little bit of angst and a little implication of smut at the end, kwon is alive, axel is a sweetheart, kreese is rotting in jail !

cobra kai was never your preferred environment, but you fought to survive there, even when the others tried to influence you. you were a good person and you stood by that. you just had to mask it when in the dojo. it’s not like you would be there long, the dojo was just a way to the sekai takai for you.

and you fought like fucking hell for your spot as captain.

you even dealt with the endless bullshit literally everyone except kwon and tory threw your way. before karate, you had trained boxing and taekwondo, mastering both of them. so, it was easy to say you had the highest kick of everyone your team.

which really did come in handy in moments like this! like when kwon started a stupid bet with miyagi-do over whose kicks were highest. the highest anyone had gone was some kid from the russian team named vlad.

169cm.

kwon hid you for the time being, as the miyagi-do male captain and him faced off in front of the crowd of sekai takai contestants. when they shook hands, you watched as he put chalk to his shoe and swung his leg as high as he could.

175cm.

the crowd cheered, surprised by the height he had managed. you and kwon only laughed. he stepped to the side to let you foward. “show them, captain.”

you grabbed the chalk from the ground and locked eyes with robby as you rubbed it on your shoe. you kicked as high as you could, marking an almost inhumanely high point on the wooden whale statue.

you had to admit you couldn’t eyeball the measurements on that one, but you had won by far.

there was a mixture of gasps and applause as your cobras immediately crowded around you, celebrating your easy victory. you stepped foward to the miyagi-do’s, and stuck out your hand to accept your prize.

a whole room to yourself!

you and the cobras were walking back to the hotel. you all had met up with sensei kim at a karate gym on the other side of the city, and were only now getting back. you walked ahead of the others, not really wanting to speak to them right now.

as you entered the hotel reception, you noticed a few familiar people your age, they were most likely from the same dojo. you were walking quite slow so you had time to observe.

on the couches were, a dark skinned girl, who was chewing loudly and texting on her phone and an asian boy, who seemed to be staring into nothing at all.

as you turned your attention back straight, you saw an incredibly cute boy, he looked european to you in some way, maybe scandinavian.. or slavic? you didn’t care! he towered over you, and you took a second to appreciate his features, his messy brown hair and dark green eyes, his sculpted face and built arms.

you shot him a flirty smile as you kept walking, which almost made him drop the plates he was carrying.

“axel! what the fuck? can’t you hold a plate?” the girl from the couch called out. ‘oh so she was a bitch!’ you thought, but dismissed it as you continued walking, the cobras following closely behind, chuckling at the scene.

how could he! he was such a fucking prick. yoon was already getting on your nerves but you lost your shit when he was bitching at you just because you were chosen captain over him.

you unknowingly stomped past your locker room, and accidentally pushed into the wrong one. but you heard something and quieted down. you heard loud, echoing grunts, hits and yells of “ais!”

you snuck to the doorframe, sneakily peering inside and seeing the cute boy from the lobby the day before. he was training with his sensei, delivering strike after strike to the punching mitts ahead of him.

he was insanely focused, and incredibly strong. even through the gi, you could tell he was built. the force behind his punches were insane, but his sensei withdrew from him immediately.

“what are you doing wrong?” his sensei yelled firmly and all of a sudden the incredibly powerful demeanour axel had just flaked away. he flinched as the older man threw the mitts to the floor.

you watched as his sensei struck the poor boy, you had almost grown attached to. not once, not twice. you could tell he had to hold himself back after the third time. he picked up the mitts and commanded axel to continue.

but before he even landed a second punch, the mitts were on the floor again and axel was being hit. you heart hurt to watch it. you let out a soft gasp.

axel turned his head at the sound and saw you, you shot him a sad smile and walked through the hallway, hearing his sensei yell at him as you kept walking forward.

the cobras wanted to go somewhere and get drunk, and as their captain, you had to go. plus you had secretly hoped you might bump into the guy you had been crushing on for the last two days.

kwon was slumped against the counter, trying to maintain a conversation with you, but miserably failing. yoon and the others were standing around tory, trying to make their lazy advances that seemed to go completely unnoticed.

“씨발, 나 산책하러 가야 돼.. 안전하게 지내라, 얘들아 (fuck this, i’m going on a walk, get home safe boys.)” tory practically growled at you, still insulted by the fact she couldn’t speak your language but the remainder of the team telling you goodnight or to stay safe.

you left your half empty bottle of beer on the counter as you walked out, heading straight for the beach. it was calm, and quiet, and for a second you thought you heard the same sounds as earlier.

“ais! ais!” you heard and you recognised the voice, turning to watch as axel stood a couple metres away from you, shirtless, practising his kata. you watched for a couple moments before you spoke up.

“that’s a really cool kata, what’s it called?” he immediately turned around. he smiled at the sight of you and answered softly, “it’s called enpi.”

you nodded and were about to answer before he spoke again, “i don’t mean to be rude, but it’s a pretty common kata, and you’re an incredible fighter, i’m shocked you don’t know it.”

you looked at the floor for a second, before meeting his eyes, as they watched you. “it’s okay! i’m originally a kick-boxer and i studied taekwondo, so that’s my more proficient area.. i can apply a lot of it to karate though so it’s perfect!”

he nodded and gave you a small smile as he continued the conversation with you. “you’re incredibly strong in karate, i wouldn’t have noticed!” he spoke to you.

you stepped closer to him and brushed his arm. “thank you, you’re very strong, i mean clearly.” you said, trying to make it clear you were flirting with him. “i-thank you.” his smile turned bashful and he felt his cheeks heat up.

“you’re amazing.” he said, and immediately paused to reformulate his statement. “i-mean your dojo’s amazing!” you beamed at him. he was honestly so cute you wanted to squeal sometimes.

you smiled, about to speak but he beat you to it once more. “can i join?” he asked you, and you immediately felt yourself get kind of excited at the idea.

“the cobras? i mean, the boys are stupid but kwon’s okay, he just tries to overcompensate when he’s around others but he’s such a sweetheart i promise-“ you began to ramble.

“i meant your walk..” he replied, almost annoyed with himself that he interrupted you once more. you smiled at him once more and accepted. “of course!” you watched as he turned around to grab his jacket.

your eyes fixed on his back, and the scars covering it. you touched them experimentally and felt his body tense under your hand. “i-i’m sorry.. are you okay?” you asked him, empathy laced in your voice.

he quickly grabbed his jacket and put it on, hiding his back from you. “i’m okay.” he quickly dismissed you. you slid your hand into his and nodded somberly. the pair of you started to walk towards the footpath.

you responded to him. “you don’t have to talk to me about it, but i know what it’s like to have an abusive sensei and it’s always okay to not be okay.” you turned your head to face him as he did the same for you.

“thank you. it means a lot.” he smiled softly as you both stood still and he stared at your face. you asked him to lean down a little bit, claiming you had a “secret” to whisper to him.

once he was close enough to your height, you reached onto your tippy toes and gave him a soft peck on the cheek. you let out a soft giggle as you did and he could’ve sworn he felt his heart beat out of his chest.

you had stumbled upon the cobras, well not all of them, but yoon and a few others. they were clearly drunk and yoon smirked as he saw you. “y/nnn, who’s the guy?” yoon asked, cockily as he dragged out the last letter.

axel’s hand tightened protectively against yours.

“who would’ve thought our captain’s with the enemy..” another boy pressed behind him, and you couldn’t quite make out who it was but it enraged you. you replied to them sharply, with authority.

“you know, i’m sure sensei kim would love to hear that her star fighter was being preyed on by a bunch of drunk losers on her team.” that’s when the remainder of the cobras scattered, but yoon stood in place. you were loosing your patience, and so was axel.

“and i’m sure sensei kim would love to hear that her star fighter is fucking around with some pussy off the hong kong team.” yoon cockily challenged you, but axel stepped forward instantly.

you put a hand on his chest and pushed him back, reassuring him you’d handle it but he kept his fists clenched in preparation.

you stepped towards yoon and spoke to him loudly. “지난번에 팀원 중에 나한테 엉뚱한 짓을 한 사람이 있었던 걸 기억나? (remember what happened the last time someone on the team fucked with me?)” he swallowed and waited for you to continue.

“그러니 그런 일이 일어나기 전에 빨리 호텔로 돌아가세요. (so get your pussy ass back to the hotel before it happens to you).” and with that, he sprinted in the opposite direction, following after his teammates.

you turned back to axel and smiled, “i’m so sorry, you had to be there for that.” you spoke softly to axel and you felt his rough hands envelope yours. “it’s okay, i’m sorry you have to put up with that.” he answered. gazing into your eyes.

“it’s okay, it’s not your fault. it’s all you expect from egotistical teenage boys.” you smiled a little, trying to lighten the mood a little bit.

“i’m not like that, am i?” he asked you, worried that he was like them. you instantly shook your head. “nonono, axel, not at all.” your gaze flicked between his lips and his eyes and he noticed it.

he held himself back, with the worry that you may have only done it as a mistake, or a way to make sure he was comfortable. he released one of your hands and the pair of you kept light conversation as you walked.

outside your hotel, he stopped. “we’re in the same hotel, axel, we don’t need to split up.” you turned to face him and watched as his brow furrowed slightly, in thought. he brushed a strand of hair away from your face.

you leant into his touch and looked up at him, knowing it was his way of making a move. you reached as high as you could to put a hand on the back of his neck, and the other rested on his chest as you pulled him into you.

his lips met yours. they were soft and you couldn’t help yourself. his hands reached down to your waist before he pulled away.

“we should probably go to our rooms now.” he said, and you giggled softly, once again, still excited from your kiss. you nodded in agreement, as you held hands again and walked to the elevator.

as soon as the doors shut, he couldn’t help himself any more and pressed you softly against the wall as you continued what you had done just a few minute prior, outside the hotel.

except this time, it was deeper, and it was hungry. his hands wandered over your body, tapping under your thighs, telling you to jump, and as you did, his strong arms held you, kneading at the flesh there as he continued to attack your lips.

at some point, when the pair of you were so wrapped up in eachother, the elevator doors opened. he frowned as you pulled away from him and commanded him jokingly to “put you down!”

he did, and just as you were about to leave, he spoke up once more. “let me walk you back.” and you accepted, still giddy from your stolen kisses.

once you reached your door you smiled and leant up to peck him on the cheek. “goodnight, axel!” and just as you turned around he grabbed your wrist and pulled you to him once more.

he kissed you one last time before you went inside. “goodnight beautiful.” he smiled as he started walking away. it took you too seconds before you called after him, dragging him back once more.

“axel, i do have a room to myself… if you wanted to put it to good use?”

[loveyjelly]

Raw Roulette

CW // MDNI, SMUT, foursome, handjobs, blowjobs, piv, creampie, slight mentions of exhibitionism

(I changed the title because i love alliteration)

"Regretting inviting all of us over for dinner?" Rafayel teased, crawling over to you and trailing kisses from your collarbone to your neck. As much as you want to maintain your composure, you give in and let out a whine.

"Doesn't sound like it to me." Zayne smirked, as he kept your back pressed to his chest, both of you sitting up on your bed.

"Are you enjoying this?" Xavier's hand rested on your thigh, sitting on the edge of the bed and occupying the across Rafayel. He pushed the hem of your dress up to move his hands to your inner thigh.

The overwhelming sensation is starting a fire in your lower abdomen. "This wasn't supposed to happen." You sharply inhale, trying so hard to contain yourself. What would they think of you when they find out that you're enjoying being aroused by three men at the same time?

You didn't think that the night would end up with you being surrounded by barely clothed men vying for your attention, vying for you to make them feel good.

"Do you want us to stop?" Zayne's hot breath tickling your ear is getting you more worked up. Your breath hitched and you involuntarily squeezed your legs together, accidentally trapping Xavier's hands between your thighs. He gently moved one of your legs to separate them.

"Yes or no, Love. We need to hear it from you." Xavier's eyes still shined of innocence even in the dark lighting that matched the soon-to-be carnal atmosphere.

"Don't stop" You mumbled, unable to properly get your words out.

"Speak up, Princess." Rafayel took one of your hands and kissed the back of it.

"Please don't stop."

As if their brains synced together, they resumed with what they were doing except now there was nothing holding them back from having their way with you.

Rafayel started licking and sucking on your neck, marking you as if that was the only way he could make it obvious to the other two that he needs you more than they do.

Xavier's hands roamed across your thighs. He couldn't get enough of how they feel against his palm and how you shiver and gasp whenever his fingers would brush over your panties.

Zayne enjoyed when you arch your back from the pleasure since your ass pressed against his bulge every time you did. "Would you even be able to take all of us at the same time?"

"We can't make her too tired, she's going on a date with me tomorrow." Rafayel smirked as he watched the other two pause.

"Wait you said you were going to help me with a mission tomorrow." The grip Xavier had on your thigh tightened as he looked at you with a slight pout.

"And you promised me that we'd have lunch together at the restaurant near the hospital." Zayne's arm starts to snake around your waist, every inch of your back covering his chest.

"I didn't realize I had those plans all at the same date." Trying to explain yourself was a lot harder with the three of them looking at you, expecting you to either choose between them or come up with a compromise.

"I have an idea," Rafayel said. The grin on his face tells them that it was going to be something so outrageous. "Why don't we play Russian roulette with her pussy?"

"Elaborate" Zayne's interest was piqued. He's been waiting for your shared lunch for a few days now, no way was he going to let anyone else have your time but him.

"We take turns fucking her and the last man she cums on gets to have her precious time tomorrow."

"That sounds good to me, I'm surprised you were the one that came up with that idea." Xavier's soft but nonchalant tone made the comment sound more condescending.

"Are you okay with that?" Zayne looked for your approval. He didn't want to do anything that would make you feel uncomfortable.

"Mhmm" You're already at your limit from the anticipation.

"Use your words, Miss" Rafayel coaxed.

"I'm okay with it" You obeyed, barely getting the words out without whimpering.

"You just don't want us to stop touching you, do you?" Xavier moved his hands to the soaked fabric of your panties. "Mmm already so wet for us, maybe we should let you cool down first."

"Yeah, if we keep going then you might cum as soon as you get one of our cocks inside you." Rafayel rubbed one of your arms as his lips tickled your neck while he spoke.

"I won't" You were just being delusional at this point. Having this many hands touching you and the filthy words being thrown around the room was enough to make you spill out.

"We're gonna hold you to that. Now, how do we pick which one goes first." Zayne's hands traveled from your waist up to your tits, earning a gasp from you.

"The last one that got here, should go first" Rafayel grinned at Xavier.

"For just 20 minutes!" He protested. "But I'm fine with that, I know she'll be a good girl and hold it in for me, won't you?" He gently grabbed your face to make you stare at his eyes as if it was to serve as an unspoken promise.

Xavier swiftly removed your underwear and immediately glided his fingers through your folds. Looking up at you again, he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked off your slick like it was nectar.

"I can't take it anymore, please just let me have it." Your whole body shivered as Zayne started unzipping your dress, Rafayel helping him raise it above your head.

"Let you have what?" Xavier hasn't taken his eyes off you.

"I haven't heard her be this needy ever, I think I might get addicted to how you sound right now." You couldn't handle how Rafayel kept speaking while his lips are just a hair away from your neck.

Zayne remained quiet. He felt conflicted, you look so divine when your eyes are glazed with pure lust and ecstasy but he hated sharing you with the other two. He hated how they made you feel good too. Hearing you beg for Xavier just made him want to fuck you rough and raw in front of them and let them know that if you ever needed a good fuck, he'll be the one you'd call. Just him and no one else.

"Are you sure you want to skip that part?" Xavier asked. He loves eating you out but if you want him inside already then he can't deny you that. To him, your words are gospels that need to be fulfilled. If you want him to fuck you how you want it, then he's more than glad to do that as long as you don't cum.

Rafayel finally peeled himself off your side and reached something from your nightstand drawer. "I knew you'd have it here, maybe you were expecting this to happen." He handed you the bottle of lube and was stuck at your side again. "Go on, if you want him inside then you're going to have to help him out a little bit." 

Xavier was surprised Rafayel was helping you out when it came to him. He always saw him as a self serving diva or maybe he's doing it just for you.

You tug on the waistband of his boxers and pull them down, revealing his cock already so hard for you. "It's all yours, Princess. Come here." He pulled you away from the other men and positioned you on top of him, your hips hovered over his thighs to give you space for what you needed to do.

Xavier heard Zayne click his tongue and Rafayel sighs. He shifted his focus back to you, watching your hands as they shake while pouring the lube onto your hands.

"Relax, it's just me." His hand enveloped your wrist to stop it from shaking so much.

"We're here too" Rafayel grumbled and Zayne let out a soft chuckle at the comment. You turned your head to face him but Xavier used his free hand to cup your cheek and guide your sight back to him.

"He'll have his turn later. But for now, your attention is all mine." He leaned in and brought his lips to yours to give you a quick kiss for encouragement.

You heard Xavier's sharp inhale once his cock was in your palm. 

"Move your hand." He gently instructed, trying to focus on you despite the coldness of the lube and the warmth of your hand mixing.

The rustling of the sheets brought Xavier's attention to Zayne who is now getting closer to you again. "What? I can't let you two have all the fun" He places his hand flat on your shoulder blade, making you flinch from the sudden change in temperature.

"Don't overheat, Angel. You have a whole night to get through." He snuck up behind and planted a light kiss behind your ear.

"Don't leave me out!" Rafayel was right behind you but you can tell by the tone of his voice that he was pouting. "They might make the whole night all about them if we didn't interfere." He rested his head on your shoulder.

"Don't look at us like that, Xavier. We're just here to offer some...support." Something mischievous flashed in Zayne's eye. "No one said the others should stay back while it's someone's turn."

"Fuck" He muttered, the whole time your hand your hand stayed stroking his cock.

The banter between the three of them helped ease the tension that previously built up in your chest.

"Less nervous now, Love?" Zayne noticed that you weren't as shaky as before, stroking your hair and giving you a small smile.

"I can't wait any longer, can I put it inside?" Xavier got harder the more you stroked him. He felt like he couldn't breathe until you said yes to his plea.

You took your hand off his dick and nodded, preparing for what position he'd fuck you in. It was like you were their personalized and shared fuck doll. 

"I'm so sorry, Princess. I'm gonna have to be a little rough." Xavier was so worked up he couldn't even bother to ask anymore but he knew you'd tell him to stop if you weren't fine with it.

He flipped you over on your hands and knees. The view was a little embarrassing if you were going to be honest. The other two looked at you and you couldn't help but feel small.

"Didn't know you had that in you, Xavier" Rafayel mused. "Aw, little miss has watery eyes. Are you that needy for a good fucking?" He reached for your face and caressed your cheeks using his thumb.

"She deserves one." Xavier's tip was teasing your entrance.

"Xavier, please." You squeaked out.

"Oh, I can't wait until she's begging for me." Zayne grabbed one of your hands and placed your palm on top of his erection. "I'll have to settle with this for now."

Xavier slowly pushed his cock inside you, his movements got more urgent and firm but he still observed your reaction to know if he should continue.

A loud moan escapes your lips as he pushes himself in, making you take it up to the base. He started thrusting in a quick steady rhythm that made you grip the sheets. It had completely slipped your mind that your other hand was holding Zayne's dick.

"Easy there, Angel. Come on, you can please one more man, right?" He slowly guided your hand in an up and down rhythm that intentionally matched Xavier's thrust. He closed his eyes and pretended that he was fucking you already.

"Mind if I use this one?" Rafayel hooked his thumb inside your mouth prompting you to open it wider. "I know you'll take it so well." He scooted closer so you don't have to move, placing your free arm on his thighs for support.

"Ah, that's it. Take it at your own pace, Baby." Rafayel put his hand on the back of your head and enjoyed the sight of you swallowing his whole length. "Fucking impressive, you're so good at this." He praised your skills.

"You're clenching around me already." Xavier huffed.

"My turn." Zayne interrupted and put his hand on top of yours, stopping you from jerking him off. "I need to have this pretty little thing now." 

The three rotated positions. Like clockwork, you immediately had your hands on Rafayel's dick, stroking him at the same pace that Zayne had you do. Xavier had you in the same position as Rafayel but this time he's holding your hand.

"Mmm your mouth feels just as good, Princess." Xavier threw his head back from the immense pleasure. He never felt this good using his own hands. Maybe he can call you for help whenever he needs to masturbate.

You can hear Zayne's groans as he drilled your pussy like his life depended on it. "You're getting wetter. Don't tell me you're getting close."

Your moans are muffled by Xavier's cock, making it harder to tell Zayne that you're seconds away from cuming. You feel Zayne slow down. "Does my Angel want to cum?"

You couldn't answer back, you were too preoccupied. "Look at me" His voice was stern but still had a hint of gentleness behind it.

You took Xavier's dick out of your mouth and turned your head to look back at Zayne. He wished he could pause time right now. You looked so brilliant in your current pose. Your eyes are all watery, lips swollen, a mix drool and precum trickling from the side of your mouth, and two other men panting from the pleasure you gave them.

"I'll let you cum right now if you promise that you'll reschedule our lunch to a date that doesn't include other plans. Do I make myself clear, Angel?" His cock stayed buried deep inside you, it made it so hard to focus on what he was saying.

"I promise" You mumbled.

"Louder"

"I promise, Zayne. Please let me cum" You begged.

"Good girl. Now get ready to be fucked the way you deserve to be fucked." He starts thrusting again, his body remembering the tempo it was following earlier.

"Letting yourself lose just for her, how noble." Rafayel just had to poke fun at Zayne. Too bad he almost couldn't get the words out since he was panting like a dog that just played fetch for an hour.

"My Princess cuming on someone else's cock? I should've just forfeited earlier." Xavier tried to give you a cute pout but failed. Your mouth felt too good to joke around at the moment.

Zayne's cock was repeatedly hitting your sweet spot. You can feel your orgasm building up, coming in waves in your lower abdomen.

"Just let it all out, Angel. I'm close too." He kept the beat of his thrust the same to help you get to your peak.

"Zayne!" You exclaimed as you arch your back from the satisfaction, sending shivers all over your body. Your limbs twitched and you had Xavier and Rafayel help you hold yourself up. He continued going in and out until you felt him grip your hips tight, his warm cum covering every existing inch of your walls.

"Did that feel too good, Baby?" Rafayel grabbed your face and lifted it up to meet his gaze. You nodded. "I can tell, you couldn't even focus on us anymore."

"It's okay, Princess. But now we'll have to be a little selfish." Xavier kissed your shoulder and pinned you down on your back, your head barely on the mattress.

"You ready?" He positioned himself on top of you, slapping his dick against your pussy.

"Ready" You whispered.

He slid his cock inside, pushing out Zayne's cum. "Feels good to be back."

"Don't forget about me" Rafayel's fingers grazed your throat. He gets out of the bed and stands near the top of your head.

Xavier figured out what Rafayel wanted to do. He grabbed your waist and pushed you out of the bed by a few inches.

"Perfect." Rafayel wrapped his hand on your throat and slowly let your mouth and tongue do their thing. He had to get you used to that position first.

Zayne laid down and reached for your hand. "You did so well, Angel." Taking the back of your hand and tenderly kissing it.

Meanwhile, Xavier was barely hanging on by a thread. The sweet sound your moans make alone could've made him cum but fucking you was an option so he took it.

The original game plan has been derailed but none of the boys could complain. The sound of your gasps, whimpers, and moans echoing off the walls were like music to their ears.

You didn't have to move as Rafayel moved his hips and used your throat as a pussy. "No matter what you do you always feel so good." He pushed his cock down the back of your throat and held it there for a few seconds just to hear you gag and gargle spit.

"Oh, does that turn you on more? I felt you clench." Xavier thrusted faster, ready to give you another orgasm.

Zayne loved this lewd side of you. It was like you were their personal fuck toy just for this night. He can't deny that he had fun fucking you in front of other people. You really do bring sides of him he didn't think he had.

You couldn't tell Xavier that you were about to cum. The next best way was to put your hand on his forearm and squeeze it.

"I'm about to cum too, Princess." He said, it's like he read your mind.

"Fuck, me too." Rafayel moaned. "Squeeze his arm if you want all of us to cum with you, Baby."

You squeeze Xavier's hand until your nails dig into his skin.

"She says yes." Xavier and Rafayel shared a smirk.

In just a few seconds, you let go and experience another round of ecstasy. Your senses were almost non-existent after being pounded and choked by multiple cocks.

Xavier and Rafayel let out several loud moans as they slow down their thrust after reaching their peak. Both of them slowly pull out and immediately reach out to you to make sure you're okay.

The content look in your eyes and smile was a good enough answer to their question.

Rafayel scooped you into his arms and placed you in the middle of your bed. "Take all the time you need to rest, okay? You did such an amazing job." He reassured you, giving you a soft kiss on the forehead.

Despite the guys being breathless and tired too, they still went out of their way to make sure you were well taken care of after. They'll also have to figure out how they'll fit into your schedule next week since the game didn't go as planned.

The thoughtful gestures, sweet words of affirmation, and future plans will have to wait because their favorite girl just fell asleep.

(Alexa, play Love Talk by WayV on loop)

(Technicallyyyy Rafayel won)

@queenashen

buy me coffee

[na0koz]

Hear me out on nsfw hcs for jinx bc I KNOW she’d be insane 😭

soo freaky u r right nonnie.

MDNI. cw blood, knives, mentions of guns, panty stealing, bondage

toxic!jinx masterlist

bites you. bites you hard. like hard enough to draw blood, and she’ll lick all of it up. what can she say, she likes the taste of your blood. the taste of anything of yours actually.

is a menace with a strap. she dicks you down so well. she is genuinely crazed by making you cum she doesn’t even care about her own orgasms. she can do that in her own time while she thinks about how you cried on her dick earlier.

likes to watch you get yourself off as well. sometimes she will beg you to just let her sit and watch you play with yourself. it’s not even like she wants to do it return, she just is so obsessed with how your body twitches and responds to your own movements.

i think she is definitely into some stuff that any normal person would find her disgusting for. for example the whole blood thing. she’d probably do a lil something with knife play, like tracing down your chest to your stomach to jussttttt above your pussy with a knife, watching you tremble and whimper under the blade as you try your best to stay still and save yourself the wound waiting to happen. or maybe even guns. russian roulette or something like that.

she’d also like sucking on your tits for sure. gently biting your nipple as she stuffs your pussy with her slender fingers or a dildo. she’s deduced exactly what makes you cum the hardest and she’s figured out it’s her biting on one of your tits while she fucks her fingers into your pussy.

bondage is a given. keeping your hands tied behind your back while she has you on your knees, thrusting into you from behind with her strap. she thinks you just look so pretty with your face squished into your creased bedsheets while you cum on her dick.

panty stealer alerttttttt. used and clean. one of each, maybe two. we were all thinking it. we know she steals your stuff. to be honest though, she doesn’t have them purely so she can get herself off to their scent. sure, it turns her on, but she also just wants every single part of you memorised, every scent and every part. (but she mainly just uses them to make her cum when she’s in the confines of her bedroom without you to help).

she can also keep it simple, she’ll very very happily scissor with you and hump her puffy clit on yours. such raw and simple sex gets her off so much and more often than not, it makes her squirt all over you.

she likes to ride your face too i think. like her properly grinding her hips down onto you not just you casually eating her out. she just really loves marking you as hers and she classes cumming on your face as one of the ways to do this.

in short, you are covered in hickeys and bite marks 24/7, and jinx is a perv.

[crazyinlovewithbucky]

“In the bedroom, I’ll be screaming but outside, I’ll keep it quiet.”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x avenger!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky had a sexual relationship and were hiding it from everyone in the team and the compound, making the relationship more exciting for you. Also, you discovered a secret kink Bucky had.

Warnings: smut with very little plot, overstimulation, p in v sex, RUSSIAN NICKNAMES, Soldat kink, Bucky being desperately horny, sex-tape, filming during sex, almost getting caught, praise kink, some degradation kink with name-calling, creampie, breeding kink, marking kink, hair pulling, kind of voyeurism kink??, Steve making appearance and being so sweet and gentle to reader, an odd mention of Pam and Tommy? fingering, finger sucking, fluff, aftercare, Russian praise, too many kinks, I lost track I'm sorry.

This smut was inspired by the song Low by SZA

AU/N: Hey guys, I don't know how to say this but this smut piece is literally written based on a dream I had lol. Hope you enjoy it and I'd like to remind you that English isn't my first language so excuse if I misspelled or mispronounced anything. Enjoy <3.

"Shit, get in. Get in." Your heart skipped a beat, and you got so excited and shy when you saw Bucky standing in front of your door completely naked with nothing but his bathroom robe on, and he opened it wide open as soon as you opened your bedroom door. You held his hand and pulled him in quickly before someone saw him like this. "What the hell are you doing?" You closed and locked the door, turned around to face him, and found his robe now pooling around his feet.

"I just missed you so much, baby doll. Come here." He pulled you by your arms to him and started kissing you hungrily, then he lifted you up in his arms, and you wrapped your legs around him by habit. You kissed him back deeply. "I just couldn't wait until they fell asleep. I need you so badly." He mumbled against your mouth and held you tightly as he turned towards your bed and threw you gently on it. "Clothes off now." He ordered, and you giggled as you didn't have many clothes on. Only your tank top and your panties. You took them off quickly and saw him already moving his metal hand up and down his hardened cock, and it was leaking pre-cum at the sight before his eyes: you, fully naked on your white bed sheets. All his.

He started at your feet, kissing and mumbling sweet words like miss this, miss you, love you, my doll, my perfect girl, and need you, moving all the way up to your calves, knees, and thighs, filling them with kisses and love bites. You smiled at how needy he was, as if you hadn't woken up in his arms this morning as he was fucking you awake, burying his head in your neck, and marking you there. You had to wear a turtleneck sweater all day long in the middle of August because of his marks on your neck, claiming you as his over and over again as he wanted desperately to show everyone that you are his, but unfortunately for him, you had to keep your relationship a secret because you don't want anyone snooping around or middling in that special bond you and Bucky have.

At first, you kept it a secret because you weren't sure if this relationship would work out or not, and if it didn't, you both didn't want it to be a big deal with everyone walking on eggshells around you guys. But to your surprise, it worked out, and it lasted for a whole year. You both thought the reason why it's going so well between you guys is because you're keeping it a secret, so this is why you try to hide it as best as you can, sneaking around and locking doors, making excuses to go on missions together as it feels like a gateway vacation for you both. Of course, you were working and getting your asses kicked, but you always made things up to make it last longer than it did so you could enjoy your time together and go on dates. It wasn't the best plan, but it made you both happy and got you both closer to each other. And all things aside, you both found it so thrilling and erotic to keep it hidden from everyone and sneak around, having quickies in conference rooms, on the quinjets, in Tony and Bruce's labs, in the gym, on the roof, and in a parked SUV. Because sadly, most of the time you both weren't alone; he was either with Steve or Sam, and you were always following Nat and Yelena around. So you both had to take advantage of any time you found yourselves alone in it.

"Take it easy, Soldat. Don't you remember this morning?" You smirked and rubbed his hair while he was kissing and sucking love marks on your inner thighs.

"I love it when you call me that." He chuckled, moved up your body, and kissed you passionately. He devoured your mouth with his. He pressed his body so close to yours, like you were a part of him. Wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly, afraid you might disappear if he ever let go. You wrapped your arms and legs around him, fearing the same thing. "Want to do nothing except for staying right here, like this, forever, моя любовь" he mumbled, and you moaned against his mouth when you heard your favorite Russian nickname, the one he always whispers in your ear when he tries to tease you in front of people. My love.

He moved his head down and started sucking and biting your nipples, giving each one the proper love and attention they deserve. while moving his hands, lifting your legs up, and bending you in half. You held them up and wrapped them around his torso. He sneaked his fleshy hand down to your cunt and cupped it. Rubbing and opening your lips down there and feeling your arousal soak his hand "All of this is for me, Кукла?" He rubbed your arousal all over your clit, earning some moans and whimpers from you. Then he moved his hand to his mouth and licked his digits clean of your wetness. "Tastes like heaven, as always." He pushed his tongue into your mouth and kissed you like his life depended on it. So passionately, you were slightly getting dizzy.

While getting drowned in his kiss, you felt his cock slowly poking your entrance. He pushed the head slowly inside, and you moaned against his mouth at how hot and hard it felt inside. You felt yourself gushing around him, just for the excitement of feeling his hardened cock filling you up. He moved his kisses to your neck, finding new places there to mark you. He pushed his cock inside of you slowly until he bottomed out, and both of you were moaning messes. You loved hearing him moan and whimper for you as much as he loved hearing the same sounds come out of you.

He picked up a slow and deep pace at first, while his mouth never left yours or your body. You were playing with his hair and moaning his name. "Damn, Bucky. I missed this so much. Please don't leave. I want you, like this all the time." You whimpered in his ear, and you swore you felt his cock twitching when he heard your words. You thought he was going to cum.

"Fuck, Y/N. You're killing me." He breathed hard and started an unrelenting pace, going faster and fucking his cock harder into you. His hand snaked down, and he rubbed quick circles on your clit. You cried out loud and couldn't control your screams and moans anymore. You couldn't handle it any longer, and suddenly, you heard that gushing sound coming out of you. You squirted and came all over his cock. You lost all control of your body, and you felt your walls uncontrollably clenching so hard on his cock. He moaned loudly as he emptied everything he had inside of you; that squelching sound became louder because of your mixed juices, and he couldn't stop fucking everything into you, filling you up, and marking you as always.

You were cut off from your trance by a loud banging on your door, and someone was trying to open your door. "Y/N, are you okay? Open the door." It was Steve, and from the sound of his voice, he was very concerned.

"Fuck, were we that loud?" you panicked and whispered to Bucky.

He chuckled at you and said, "You were that loud, doll, not me." He kissed your cheek while stressing the word 'you'.

Steve kept banging and trying to open the door, saying, "I'm going to break this down if you don't answer me."

"Holy shit," you whispered. "Steve, I'm fine. It's just—II was—Oh." You yelled back to Steve and were cut short because Bucky moved his semi-hard cock and kept fucking his cum into you, very slowly and deeply. "Buck, come on." You moaned quietly, but all this son of a bitch did was raise his eyebrows at you playfully and smirk.

"Looks like Steve will finally find out the slut you've been hiding under your innocent face, doll. And you know Steve loves to gossip with Nat." He smirked and bit your jaw playfully, knowing goddamn well that Steve tells everything to Nat, and Nat tells Yelena, and Yelena has a big mouth and will tell every single one in the compound that Steve saw you being fucked raw by his best friend, and that made you get more startled and out of breath.

"Y/N. What's wrong? Are you sure you're fine?" Steve yelled from the other side of the door.

"Y-Yes, Steve. I- Fuck" Bucky, being the torturous monster he is, he started sucking and kissing that sweet spot in your neck, making you forget you just squirted all over his cock and want nothing but to cum all over his cock over again.

"Don't stop those sweet sounds you make, doll. Let them know who's making you scream like a slut," Bucky whispered in your ear as he never stopped dragging his now-hardened cock in and out of you.

"Y/N?" Steve called. "I'm getting really worried here; I'm breaking down the door."

"No." You yelled loudly. "Stop, please. I'm just having period cramps." You yelled, then put your hand on your face from the embarrassment. Bucky giggled quietly at you, and you hit his shoulder.

"Period?" He smirked at you. "Have I really fucked you stupid already?" He chuckled while smirking at you as his right hand moved to your breast, and he pinched your left nipple playfully, which made you whine at him.

"Really? Do you need anything?" Steve calmed down a bit and asked with a still-concerned voice.

"No, Steve. I'm fine. I have everything I need. Thank you." You breathed out and bit Bucky's shoulder as he couldn't stop giggling and smirking at you.

"Okay. If you need anything, you can text me, I guess." Steve said, and you smiled at his sweetness.

"Will do, Cap. Thanks." 

"Why don't you go fuck him instead, huh?" Bucky frowned at you after he pushed all of his length inside and stopped moving.

You rolled your eyes at him and were about to reply back, but Steve's voice stopped you. "Have you seen Bucky, by the way?" He asked from behind the door, and your eyes widened. Bucky smirked and was about to say something loudly, but you smacked your hand on his mouth quickly and flipped him over while his cock was still buried inside of you. You were straddling him now, on top of him, while your hand was still covering his mouth and shushing him.

"No, Cap. Not since dinner. Maybe he's in his room." You tried to stabilize your voice as much as you could as your eyes started to tear up from the burning that Bucky's cock was causing inside of you and your need to fuck yourself on him and cum again.

"He's not. I was in his room right before I heard you, and he wasn't there." He exclaimed. You cursed him and all the gods and everyone at this moment for disturbing your much-needed moment with Bucky like that. "Maybe he's taking a late-night ride or something."

"I was." Bucky mumbled from beneath you, your hand still covering his mouth. You rolled your eyes at him and told him to shut up.

"Anyways, thanks, Y/N. Get well soon. See ya." Steve said, and then you heard him walking away, and you sighed in relief.

Bucky kissed your hand that was covering his mouth, and you looked down at him. You admit he looks so sexy like that, with his messed-up hair, hazy half-lidded eyes, and kind of red cheeks. You removed your hand and kissed him deeply. He flipped you over again, so he was on top of you again and kissing you hungrily.

"I want to try something with you tonight." He smirked and licked his now-swollen lips. He lifted himself up slowly, opened your nightstand's drawer, and took out your vintage video camera. You're not surprised how well he knows its location; he knows every single item in your room like it's his own, as he spends most of his nights here.

The hobby you and Bucky shared and which was the topic of your first-ever conversation was photography. He really loved taking pictures of everything; it was his way of adapting to the new world, and as much as he liked how these new wireless phones had cameras in them, he was old-fashioned and had a nice collection of vintage film cameras. He takes pictures of everything he finds in his way; that was actually recommended first by his therapist, and it had good results for Bucky as he figured out he was passionate about that, so he always had his camera with him. You, on the other hand, had a passion for filming videos and making short movies and vlogs; when you were young, your dream was to be a filmmaker. You chose to be a superhero instead, but no one says you can't make videos and short movies as a hobby. So you always kept your cameras near, and Bucky knew all of their locations.

He opened it and turned it on, pointing the lens at his face and making silly faces to make sure it was recording. You laughed at him and at the silly faces he was making. "What are you doing, Barnes?" You giggled at him and sat up a little.

He smirked and kissed you. "I heard about this show that's based on this celebrity couple that made a sex tape in the 90s, and everyone was freaking out about it."

"Oh, really?" You made a shocked face at him and were playing along as if you weren't the one telling him about that show.

"Yeah. I guess it was a big deal back then." He flipped you over on your stomach as he was kneeling behind you, holding the camera in his hand while filming your naked body.

"Yeah?" You loved this idea but still looked confused and turned your head to face him, surprised he was actually into it.

He pointed the camera at your face and giggled, "Now, we're making one of our own." He raised his eyebrows at you playfully.

"Oh god, Bucky. You are crazy." You laughed and buried your head in the pillow.

"You're the reason, doll. You drive me crazy." He smirked. He grabbed one pillow and put it under your hips to give him easy access to your pussy.

He positioned the camera on the top right of the bed while making the lens focus on your body, and he saw that this was the perfect position from the flipped recording screen of the camera. You made a silly face at the camera and stuck your tongue out, making him laugh behind you. He brushed your hair with his fingers, grabbed it carefully with his hand, and kissed your shoulder. He lined his cock with his other hand at your entrance and pushed himself slowly inside, earning a gasp from you. As he pushed himself all the way inside and bottomed out, he laid on top of you while his grip on your hair tightened, and you arched your back against his chest while moaning out his name.

He started fucking faster into you right away. This position made his cock hit deeper spots inside you, and you could feel him all the way up to your lower stomach, and you knew if you touched it, you'd feel the bulge there. You couldn't wait till you hit your orgasm to see stars and white dots, as you can see them now from how deep he was and how hard he was fucking into you. You can feel his hot breath on the back of your neck, which gave you goosebumps all over, and that made you cry out louder than you already were.

He grabbed your hair harder, pulled your head up from the pillow, and pointed your face at the camera. "Look at the camera, шлюха. Look at yourself being fucked dumb." He whispered in your ear before biting your earlobe and sucking on it. You couldn't control your screams at that point, and you tried your hardest to muffle them on the pillow, but you couldn't because of how Bucky was holding your head up. You were praying silently that no one comes again and disturbs you from being fucked into another oblivion.

His other hand snaked up from your waist to your mouth as he pushed two fingers inside your mouth, and you welcomed them and sucked on them hungrily. You pushed your hips back to meet his hard thrusts, and you didn't know if it would be possible, but he somehow hit deeper, and his cockhead was poking your cervix over and over again. You screamed loudly but were muffled by his fingers in your mouth. Now you know why he let you suck on them in the first place. He doesn't want anyone to hear you either.

Somehow, while he was splitting you in half, your orgasm hit you suddenly like lightning, which made you squirm and shake vigorously underneath him as the overstimulation made you lose all control of your body. You closed your eyes and were tearing up while making all sorts of babbling and incoherent sounds. You didn't notice how hard you were clenching his cock until he was whimpering loudly and shooting his warm liquid inside of you. Filling you to the max. He couldn't handle how hard your soaked walls were clenching his bursting cock, so he pulled it all the way out and continued spurting all of his cum on your cunt and its lips. After your walls relaxed and stopped clenching so hard, he watched how your mixed cum dripped and got out of your swollen and abused hole. He almost drooled at the sight before him, but he proceeded to collect all of that mess between your legs with his fingers and fuck it back into you.

You were too overstimulated and kept squirming and trying to move your hips away unconsciously. "Stop moving, принцесса. We have to make it stick." You were moaning uncontrollably. He pulled his fingers out and licked them clean. He started kissing you all over, starting at your ass cheeks and moving up to your shoulder, neck, and eventually your lips.

You tried to kiss back but couldn't because you wanted to breathe more. He smiled and kissed your cheek, grabbed the camera, and stopped recording. He put it again in the drawer, saying, "We can watch that later. Now, let's get you all cleaned up, котенок" He flipped you over on your back again and was going to hold you up, but you stopped him.

"In a minute, please." You yawned, grabbed his hand, and pulled him next to you on the bed. "You killed me, Barnes. At least give me a moment to relax." You hugged him tightly and slept on his chest with his arms wrapped around you.

He chuckled, "If I gave you a minute, Y/L/N, you'll fall asleep, and we need to get cleaned up first." He rubbed your hair and massaged your scalp slowly, trying to ease it from how hard he was pulling your hair before.

"No." You mumbled and hugged him tighter.

"At least, let me clean and change the bed sheets. It's all wet and sticky because of you." He giggled at your childish behavior and tried to get up, but you held him so tightly.

"No." You whined and pouted your lips.

"Come on, doll. I'll make you a hot bath and let you nap a little in it." He drew circles on your arm and kissed your head. He tried to get up again, and you let him.

"Fine. Only if you put that lavender oil in it." You smiled lazily at him and let him hold you up, and you rested your head on his shoulder while he took you to your private bathroom.

"Все для моей принцессы." He kissed you deeply, then sat you on the sink and cleaned you up with a wet cloth after he turned the hot water on in the tub and put some lavender oil in it, waiting for it to be filled. He sat you in the tub gently as he cleaned himself up, wrapped a towel around his hips, and went to clean and change the bedsheets. He came back to the bathroom and saw you napping quietly in the tub. He smiled to himself at how beautiful you looked and went to the bedroom, grabbed one of your Polaroid camera, and took a picture of his sleeping beauty in the bathtub, looking so angelic. He took off the towel and joined afterwards. He sat behind you and made you rest your head on his chest and sleep on him as he kept rubbing your hips and waist from the bruises he caused earlier from grabbing you so hard and tight.

You woke up the next morning in his arms, in clean and fresh bedsheets, both of you smelling like lavender and wearing clean and soft underwear. You kissed his lips softly, and he opened his eyes slowly and smiled at you. "Good morning, Soldat." You kissed him again, and he kissed back.

"It's always a good morning when I wake up with you in my arms, моя любовь" he smiled and kissed you again. "I love you." He locked eyes with you and held your face with his hand while rubbing his thumb on your cheek.

"I love you," you said back, and you pressed your lips to his, kissing him deeply. Never in your life did you think you'd find true love and connection with someone. But here you are, absolutely head over heels for this man in front of you.

fin

===============================

моя любовь = "my love" Все для моей принцессы = "anything for my princess" котенок = "kitten" принцесса = "princess" шлюха = "slut" Кукла = "doll"

[kismetlotts]

Kinktober 🎃 day five: Rape!

cw: rape, obsessive König, coffee shop worker reader, mentions of oral sex, cumming untouched, submissive and dominant play? mentions of breast play, mentions of cumming on breasts, mentions of spitting, name calling e.g. 'whore', underwear obsessed König, mentions of killing, threatening a side character, public sex, sex at workplace, sex in the dark?, König is rough with reader e.g carrying and dragging, König’s ego is big, fingering, König finishing quickly, quick sex, pantie stealing, creampie,

König who gained an obsession with you. He would come in every Monday to Thursday at the local coffee shop you worked at, ordering the same medium cup of black coffee and sitting at the table in the corner. Big, dirtied and muddy fingers tracing the white ceramic cup, tracing over where your fingers touched.

Them gorgeous fingers that gripped onto the handle of the coffee machine, making another pumpkin spiced latte for all the boring, tasteless average women who’d come along. Waiting, paying and leaving- not appreciating the fine art of what you just created.

You’d thought he was weird, sat in the corner all day- no phone, no laptop, not doing a singlar thing other than sitting. Your coworkers had even discussed if they should kick him out from the mask he’d wear, a dark brown hood but you’d heard him speak, heard his manners and pleaded them not to.

He was mysterious of course but he wasnt intimidating in any way, he wasn’t causing chaos, simply just minding his buisness and taking sips off coffee from underneath the fabric. Taking subtle glances at him throughout your shift unaware hed be staring at you the whole time, pupils flicking away quickly before you could catch him.

Your first encounter with him, besides over the counter was when hed accidentally spilt his coffee, flooding the wooden table with the hot, steaming liquid, almost as if he wasnt looking at what he was doing or where his cup was. You quickly darted over. The sway in your hips and confidence radiating off of you as you used your rag to wipe the spillage with a cheerful smile, eyes meeting his own dark blue ones.

"Das ist meine schuld- I apologise!" He rushed to spit out, clearly caught off guard by his own actions as well. his large figure standing up and giving you room to wipe without hitting him but all you did was chuckle and pat the table, shaking your head and noting his accent. Russian? German? You werent very good at identifying accents.

His jeans tightend at the way you looked back at him, sexy body arched over the table as you cleared up the mess he made, what a naughty boy he’d been. Chest caving as he yearned to reach out and grab the back of your neck, rudely and selfishly shoving your face down to his crotch but he resisted, he couldn’t- not in such an open place.

"Its fine! Would you like another one? On me?" But all he could do was nod, face burning with embarrasment as the only thing he was focused on in that sentance was 'On me' and all the things that could mean. Oh you wanted him to cum on you instead of inside? You wanted to feel him paint you white, marking and coating you as his territory, watching as beads of his thick semen splurted onto your tits, your soft, kissable tits.

Or maybe you were talking about spitting- hed spit on you. On your face, on your chest, on your cunt because you were a whore for him and thats what whores get. Hed spit on you for sure. He looked down, seeing how the light reflects off of his black cargos, the small shine where his hard cock was confirming to him that he’d came in his boxers.

As more and more days carried on, you’d become more friendly with him. 'What would you like?' becoming 'Your usual?' and 'I’ll shout your order when its done!' turning into a 'I’ll let you know when its ready, König'. Hearing you say his name, so delicate and pristine: as if you were scared to butcher the pronunciation, was torturous and he’d have to ask you out sometime soon because fuck.

Just entering the store made him stiff, the smell of coffee making him thirsty for you- i mean he’d almost followed you home just to take a peak in your underwear draw but he didnt want to ruin the suprise of discovering what panties you wear- he was saving that for when you finally let him make love to you.

Maybe you wore big, comfy pants that covered you up well and allowed you to relax- no need to impress anyone just being cozy and warm. Or maybe they were small and pink, little bit of frill along the edges with a bow right in the middle, so innocent and sweet; like your appearance, like you’d taste. But no, it was something about the way you strut by him, the way your shoulders sit by your side. You were dripping with independence, a confident girl and maybe a bit of a brat too- a thong wearer, for sure.

Weeks of encouraging himself, days of persuading himself your answer would be yes and an hour of rehearsing what he was going to say, led to him fumbling it infront of you and asking you out for- ironically- a coffee. You’d let out a giggle and König felt pretty hopeful, but the second you lost eye contact something twisted in his stomach, your hand reached to collect his empty coffee cup from the table as you tapped your foot nervously on the floor. Stumbling over your words and coming up with some fucking fake- stupid excuse.

"I really would- but I have alot of drinks to make a serve- it’s October now- weather getting colder- drinks getting hotter and all!" A laugh falling your lips but he wasnt laughing, just staring at you. You were lying- why were you lying? Did he scare you? Was he not your type? Was this all just some friendly banter he misinterpreted this whole time? But he knew exactly what his was.

Laughing back at your words before standing up and heading in the direction of the toilets, shouting a quick and awkward 'I see' before quickly walking by the toilets and through the staff only door. Entering the office and heading for the computer because he wasnt heading to the toilet- or heading back home. He was heading to your home or dare he say, your partners? But before that, he’s got to find the address.

What a fat, lazy slob just reclining on the couch, drink in hand as he watched the television, not even realising it wasn’t you home from work but König there with a gun in his hand. Too focused on whatever show he was watching to actually turn his head and check up from you. Not even a simple, ‘How’s work?’

It wasn’t hard getting the man packed, petrified and silenced in under an hour while waving a gun in his face, brown hood on and towering over him pathetically. You were now König’s, he’d found you and claimed you- any man, no. Any boy, who wishes to go against that will have to deal with the consequences.

He wasnt going to kill him unless he had to, all he wanted, well, needed was for him out the picture. Threatening if he doesnt leave and end things with you over message later that day, that he’d track him down and kill him. And that if he even dares to hint that someone forced him into that decision to anyone, that his mother, father, little siblings and cousins would all be following behind.

He went along with it obviously, the fucking pussy. He stayed silent and left you forever, and it ruined you in the moment. You loved him so much and for so long for him just to abandon you like that? Something just didnt seem right. You slept on it or at least tried to, woke up and got ready for work, already wishing it was your day off. Slipping on a bring orange pumpkin hat because as if your day couldnt get any worse it was Halloween. Halloween where kids would run about, stealing sweeties from one another, Halloween where couples would cuddle up together and watch scary films- wearing homemade costumes with fake blood, masks store brought or made out of hoods- but your own train of thought made you freeze. Hoods?

Your stomach dropped but surely you were overthinking it. König wouldn’t know who you were dating, where to even find him- fucking hell what could he have used against him that would be bad enough to make him leave? You were overthinking big time, probably from your lack of sleep, but intuition told you that it was too big of a coincidence. The same day you reject someone your loving boyfriend leaves you without no explanation? It wasn’t adding up.

And what made it scarier was entering the building to find him already there, arms crossed at his seat with eyes staring into yours. Playful yet dark- sweet with a sprinkle of sinister.

You didnt look at him, you didnt collect his empty cup, you ignored the small laugh he let out at your pumpkin hat because he wasn’t your mysterious, polite, scary yet misunderstood customer whom you’d formed a friendship with. He was a fucking psychopath. A dirty, probably perverted psychopath that made your stomach churn and you wanted nothing more than to boot him out. You should’ve listened to your coworkers when they had a creepy feeling about him. You’d thought about asking them to kick him out now but since he’d come and gone for so many days now, he’d know something has changed with the way you saw him and he’d probably target you more.

Time ticked, people had left and all staff were now gone for the week, leaving you the only staff left and the door swinging as the last person to enter exited. The dark evening night seeping through the windows as the lights turned off, leaving the electric menus above the counter, lights from the machines and lamp posts outside illuminating the darkness of the room.

It was you and him, only you and him and if things weren’t confirmed by his eerie aura earlier, him waiting until you were both alone definitely sold you on the fact he was after you. You ripped the apron off of yourself, pretty much bolting for the pitch black staff room.

Muttering a fast, 'Put your cup on the counter before you leave' despite knowing deep down the staff room was only a room. There was no lock, no keypad- you were in a shitty old coffee shop in the middle of a quiet town, alone and at night. And ‘Before you leave’ meant nothing either. He wasn’t leaving anytime soon- and neither were you.

The squack of the wooden chair being drag out was audiable from the other room you were in, breaking the deafening silence and your loud heavy breathing. Your hands shook and trembled as you rummaged for your stuff, too weak to hurry and too focused on getting out of there to hear the door behind you open and shut.

His warm presence behind your back and pinning you- you shut your eyes tears pricking them before spinning around desperately. Pushing him off of you as he generously took a step back, allowing you to run back into the coffee shop. Past the tables, knocking a chair or two as you rushed and pushed against the door. Pushing and pushing using all your weight until you heard the sound of metal rattling behind you, the silver keys and silver loop swinging around his finger as he held them up. He’d locked the door, and now you were cornered.

"Why so scared?" He spoke softly, coming a step closer, his dark eyes mocking you with fake sympathy. He knew why you were fucking scared, he knew you feared him and you figured it turned him on from the lustful glimmer in his blue irises. Seeing the quiver in your lip, the tears threatening to spill as you swallowed your emotions like a pill you had to take. Thinking that putting on a brave face will trick your mind into believing you are brave- that you can stand up to him. He found it amusing so he gave you time, he wanted to hear your pathetic little attempt. It fed to his sick fascination- his fucking pleasure more.

"What is your problem? What the fuck did you do to my boyfriend?" The little crack in your voice: orgasmic, if he wasnt waiting for you to submit to his dominance and break the holding eye contact he was holding with you, his eyes would be so far back in his head.

It boiled him, fueled him, like spreading butter onto a fresh warm pastry and watching it melt and glide so effortlessly. Would your voice crack like that when he’s balls deep inside you?

"Now, now, why are you pointing fingers, hm? Du bist meim kleiner kurbis, why would I ever do that?" His body was so close to you, you could smell the sweat and grime of his skin and despite the situation it made your stomach heat in arousal, his touch and his manerisms, his accent- it was so fucking disgusting yet you felt yourself dampen. You didn’t even know what he said- and your body gave in slightly. His hand cupped your cheek, the cold metal of the keys hitting your soft skin as his eyes locked onto the pumpkin hat with an amused look.

You could grab the keys now, shove them in the door and sprint, shout for help maybe but would you even get time? His build was muscular and he had to crouch slightly to talk to you due to his height anyway. He would grab you and prevent you from doing anything before you could even turn around, and even if you tried it, his punishment could be worse from what he wants now.

You’d found yourself caught in a dead end with nothing to do but submit and get it over with.

His mask rubbed agaisnt your neck and clothed shoulder but you could still feel the heat of his breath, the smell of coffee making bile rise in your throat. His hands found your waist and gripped on tightly, lifting you slightly as he dragged you to the table he usually sits at, throwing you ontop as it wobbled from your weight.

Tears fell and a sob escaped your throat and he unzipped his jeans, leaning over closer and pulling down your panties from beneath the work uniform he’d spent hours dreaming of, slipping a finger agaist your folds and feeling how effortlessly you coat his fingers with slick and cum. Horny?

"Aww, you want this too?" He asked but regardless of your answer he would do what he wanted, it was his time and he was more than ready. You shook your head, fighting against the pleasure your body was feeling from his touch, he was skilled with his fingers for sure, applying just enough pressure to your clit to make your back arch and you wriggle your hips- away from his finger and subconcously back against it. He let out a groan at how wet his fingers were getting before pulling away from your juicy cunt.

Reaching under your arms to tug you closer to the edge of the table, aligning his cock with your hole and wetting himself up thanks to how damp you were, mentally promising himself he’d taste you one day, maybe next time. He looked back to your face, the frown on your lips as your covered your crying eyes with your small trembling hands, so embarrassed and ashamed you were letting yourself get used like this, get forced into sex- get raped.

"You ready?" He asked and all you did was let out another sob, with a sigh he pushed forward placing his dick against your flaps and stopped, looking down and not entering you, staying completely still as he store at your face. Watching as you continued to cry into your hands before slowly lifting the palms from your face slightly.

Looking into his eyes as he looked back down, a devilish smirk forming on his lips. What a little actress, you were enoying this. You could’ve pushed him away- could’ve kicked and fought but no, you lay still even after he paused.

Thick, hard and fast as he thrusted in harshly, no care for how it may feel for you- no remorse or guilt for if he was burning, stretching or hurting you. He’d been patient for this pussy for weeks, been waiting for it- god it was like he was a virgin again. So excited to bury himself inside he hadn’t realised how close he was already.

Taking a few more slow thrusts before leaking and pouring all his cum into you, your pussy squeezing and milking every last drop out of him. Moaning loudly and squeezing his eyes shut as he pulled out, fuck- fuck that was so good. Your body was shaking, breaths barely coming to your lungs as you trembled and lay there- broken, defeated and useless. Cum dribbling out of your hole and even he felt a little bad at the sight- you didnt even get a chance to feel a little bit good, maybe next time he will fuck you like you want it.

He picked your panties up off of the floor, smooth, white, floral and cotton- it wasnt what he was expecting from you. It wasn’t a thong, it wasn’t black and laced, not like your personality at all but everyone has a secret side to them, a side they keep stashed away and only allow a select few to see.

He fumbled with his jeans, buttoning and zipping them up before turning to you, hands fumbling with the panties, his palm hitting the fabric right where your pussy was and feeling a cold, sticky, dampness. You were wet before he began touching?

"Would you like them bac-" Earning a scream from you, telling him to get the fuck out and take whatever he wants. He’d already taken and destroyed your relationship, your work, and your own body so he might as well take everything else. He could take anything else as long as he leaves and never comes back.

He swallowed, slipping them into his pocket and placing the keys next to your body on the table- if you had the energy you’d get up and slap him, punch him, grab some scissors form behind the counter and cut his fucking dick off but from how disturbing and demented he seems he’d probably enjoy that.

"I’m sorry.” He whispered, voice seeming almost shy and hushed, tone the same as when he’d first spoken to you. Anxious: almost like a whisper.

“Next time, I’ll treat you right. I’ll make you feel so good, I promise, baby." He waited for you to speak but you just lay there now on your side, tears leaking and pouring from your eyes despite your still movement. With a deep breath he began to leave realising maybe it was best he left you alone for now. He couldn’t see what was wrong, or what he did wrong because in his own mind it was going to happen one day. His cock, his needs, how you expect him to live in a constant state of desperation and want. It’s like giving a child a lollipop and saying, just watch- you’re not allowed. Just watch how sweet and delicious it would taste, just watch at how the sugar shimmers in the light- when you get told you can’t have it you need it more.

He walked back into the staff room and out the back door, his hand pulling the door shut and once his footsteps echoes away, you were alone in the dark. He was gone, leaving you an emotional mess with a dirty mess to clean up, and you couldn’t move for a moment. His words haunting you and circling you like a carousel of derision.

Next time, meaning he wasnt done just yet.

[wandasaura]

IT WAS NEVER MINE

summary — as your year long contract with natasha come to an end, all the feelings you’ve been trying to ignore come to the surface. you didn’t think they were yours to lose in the first place, but you’d never been so wrong in your life

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, angst, hurt/comfort, brief mentions of panic attack/spiraling thoughts, confession of feelings, soft!wandanat, dom/sub dynamics, bratty behavior, face grabbing, fingering, ruined orgasm, degradation, praise, mommy kink, daddy kink, doggy position, oral, grinding, mutual orgasms, threesome, finger sucking, cum tasting, literal filth? men/minors dni

authors note — russian translations are included at the end of this work. we finally got the confessions of feelings! the trios officially a couple! everybody cheered!

you are in love universe

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff ✧

Everything around you had been cemented in false permanence that you weren’t quite ready to give up just yet, or ever. The weather, the sunsets, the arms you fell into at night; a month into the summer holidays and you could no longer deny that your feelings for Wanda and Natasha were merely a result of the situation. You wanted them, in every way they would give themselves to you. You yearned for their laughter, and to join in on the soft kisses that came by the kitchen window every morning like a sacred routine. You wanted their eternal company and the lingering presence of where their gentle touch had lied even when they went away. To put it simply: you crave something that will never come. The terms of your contract were made clear when you signed them, but you were naive to have ever thought you wouldn’t catch feelings. 

With June halfway through and July on the cusp, the bed the couple fell into each night was practically your own now too, and clothes you wore frequently had been given an official place in the master en-suite closet beside Natasha’s. Some mornings, when sleep had been hard to claim and exhaustion carried over into sunrise, you couldn’t distinguish between what was hers and what was yours. When those days came like unexpected storm clouds, the gravity of your predicament clung to your skin like the disappointment of cold rain on a tropical vacation. 

Westview came alive in the summer months, like most shore towns in Jersey did once schools were out. The small town wasn’t one that you had been familiar with prior to signing the contract, rather isolated and forgotten about between the bigger beaches that bordered it, but now you that you knew of it and had seen it in the winter, you couldn’t imagine hard days without that small ice cream shop four blocks from the Maximoff’s, nor do you think you could survive hard semesters without escaping to the deserted edge of solid ground only locals visited when pale snow kissed tan sand. 

When sunshine became too bright to ignore, you were the last in the house to stir awake. The master bedroom was quiet, too quiet, save for the blue jays that chirped just beyond the sun-warm window. You sighed at the muted colors that adorned the walls and furniture within the room, wondering how some places could feel so lived in and empty in the same breath. You had to force yourself out of bed, though you would’ve rather stayed burrowed beneath thick blankets and pillows made of clouds until they fused to your three-day-old marked skin. Your routine may not have been as sweet as the married women who lingered somewhere beneath you, probably cuddled up close on the couch in the living room or laughing together in the kitchen over a memory you weren’t privy to knowing, but it had become something cherished since joining them in bed at night. Your fingers, cold from their lack of use throughout the night, trailed over the hickies that discolored your skin. The touch was softer than silk, fear clouding your impulses as you wondered if today would be the day they disappeared into nothing but another memory. In prior relationships, you’d always hated when your partner left you with physical remnants of the intimate connection you’d sought from them. It had always felt cliche and admittedly demeaning when you’d then have to walk around with splotches of burgundy peeking out from beneath clothes, but there was something different about the way you allowed Wanda and Natasha to claim you. Perhaps it was the sick pride you harbored just by knowing that your body was solely theirs to mark, or maybe it was your own twisted need to convince your mind that they cared for you the same way you did them like your heart so desperately wanted to believe. Either way, the love bites strewn across your neck lived to see another day if the intense sensitivity was any indication of their presence, and with the confirmation that everything you’ve devoted yourself to hadn't completely fallen away yet, the dread you faced like an endless mirror melted away to be stared at later on. 

With no energy to actually get dressed, because even a full night's sleep had felt like simple minutes recently, you didn’t even bother walking into the closet where your favorite outfits remained hung up on expensive metal hangers. You’d only stare at them blankly, no pull to anything in particular, until you walked away still clad in paint splattered shorts and a t-shirt you’d owned since high school. Every morning Wanda would say that the pajamas you wore weren’t allowed to exist outside of the house, and every day Natasha would drag you out for a walk while still wearing them. It was like they couldn’t agree on how to help you, but both women had noticed your shift in attitude even if they didn’t know the cause. You weren’t their lively girl anymore. You didn’t jump at the chance to skip down the pier holding tightly onto Natasha’s hand, you didn’t fling yourself off the countertops just because you knew it worried Wanda, and you didn’t bounce between offices seeking attention from whoever gave it first. As each day passed and another one came to the surface, you only got farther from the woman that they had loved. The woman you believed was unlovable. 

They tried to stand firm on the rules and expectations, having seen what happens when they try to soften their edges for you, but even doubling down on their control had been in vain. Your ass had been over both of their laps countless times in recent days, but all that seemed to do was fuel your desire to push back and retreat inward. Wanda had tried various other methods of punishment to break through whatever wall you were trying to keep up, hoping that getting you to relinquish control would settle whatever storm you had brewing beneath those dazzling eyes. Edging you had failed. You had blatantly refused to let her see how desperate you were, taking each edge with impressive neutrality until eventually she’d given you a full orgasm out of her own guilt and need to comfort. She had made you sit at the dining room table and write lines when you’d dared to try and talk back to her one night, but when she had come back to check on you the sheet of loose-leaf paper was blank and the pen hadn’t even been picked up. That was the first time you’d received the silent treatment from Wanda. She’d merely collected the paper and pen with a hum of dissatisfaction before she moved on with her evening as normal. There was no question about if you were still cared for, she tucked you in and kissed your head, but it wasn’t until the next morning rolled around when you’d heard her voice being directed toward you again. She could see that the punishment had affected you. It wasn’t typically one she resorted to, knowing how it could impact a submissive's emotions, but everything else had been falling flat on its face and she just wanted her girl back. She’d tried to amend the situation at the first chance she got, tried to comfort you in the way she knew you’d needed done, but you were more or less unresponsive to her attempts. 

As the nights of summer carried the end of your contract nearer, your sadness only grew and presented in agitating ways that were winding both of the redheads up – there was only so much more of your attitude that they could take before they snapped and you wouldn’t blame them when it came. The contract was practically the only thing on your mind anymore, namely the part of the document that disclosed the length of your agreement; twelve months. You were on month ten, and although a large part of you desperately wanted to enjoy these last few weeks entirely, the smaller, more stubborn part of you, felt like you had to protect yourself from the inevitable heartbreak that was to come. Change was unavoidable, you kept reminding yourself, but nothing could have prepared you for how truly fast it was happening. Natasha had promised you a glorious summer break. She’d promised s’mores and beach days and near permanent attachment. It wasn’t her that broke those promises, it was you. Even the thought of spending individual time with the Russian made panic flare within you, and though it wasn’t fair to her, you continued to cancel plans regardless. Today was another day of plans that wouldn’t happen, and there wasn’t even the slightest ounce of remorse in your belly as you descended toward the kitchen. You had been wrong for getting attached in the first place, you wouldn't add fuel to the fire so close to the once unimaginable end. 

 The lawyer owned a Harley-Davidson LiveWire. It sat covered by a thick black tarp in the two car garage that at some point during their relationship, had been converted into an at home gym. The very first time you had gotten a peak at the bike, you knew that you wanted to join her for a ride, but you found out weeks later that riding wasn’t something Natasha did often or at all, not anymore. Wanda had been the one to tell you why during one of the first conversations you’d had. She told you how Natasha had been in a bad crash, how the bike in the garage was a replacement for the one she’d used to have, how even the sight of it sent her spiraling and thus was why it remained permanently covered. But, after hearing about your interest, Natasha had spent months working through her anxiety just to give you a taste of the biking life she’d adored for so many years. She’d told you three weeks ago that she was almost ready to get back on, that she would let you know when she could trust herself not to panic. Months of working through trauma that could’ve easily stayed untouched just to see you smile, and now you didn’t even want to go. You were probably the shittiest person ever. They had every right to hate you come August, but you convinced yourself that that would make everything easier. If they still cared for you, you’d think about crawling back to them every second of the day. 

As expected, Wanda and Natasha were sitting together on the couch when you reached the end of the stairs. The windows in the living room were open and welcomed the fresh breeze inside, but despite the warmth that lingered with the wind, you shivered. Wanda’s head craned toward the stairs first, and then Natasha’s. It always took the Russian longer to notice you, and you wondered if Wanda really did just have a sixth sense because she never took more than a second to spot you, even if you tried to be as soundless as possible. They offered you sweet greetings and easy smiles, but they went unreturned. Three weeks ago, you would’ve melted into their laps and grinned eagerly, but now you merely rolled your eyes and shuffled into the kitchen where leftover ice cream from Billy’s remained in the freezer. 

Wanda had brought it home a few nights ago, her form of an apology for being kept at the office so late. It wasn’t yet fall, just barely summer really, but already their workload was starting to increase. You could see it in their eyes that carried permanent exhaustion, and though Natasha had thus far kept her promise of not being away, she worked in her office a significant amount more. Maybe your attitude is what pushed her to spend time with mind-melting files and cases, or maybe she was just accepting the end of the contract better than you. 

Your ice cream was decorated with sprinkles softer than sunsets. Their pastel shades were unlike the sprinkles sold at chain ice cream restaurants near your University and hometown, and you adored the simple detail that set Billy’s apart from everyone else. The first time Natasha had shown you to the parlor, you had claimed so boldly that despite being made of the same ingredients, the sprinkles tasted sweeter then the other ones you’ve tried. Another thing that had changed in your dynamic were the rules. Wanda was strict, hovering and well-alike to a helicopter parent, and when she’d realized that you only ate meals when they were prepared by either her or Natasha, she’d wasted no time in implementing another rule into your dynamic; you needed to eat at least one real meal a day. It wasn’t hard in the summer months. You were with them every day and you ate what they ate when they ate, but your late wake-up time had given you the perfect opportunity to make your lingering bad mood known in yet another way. You pulled the freezer open without any hesitation, heading straight for the half-eaten ice cream with your name on it. You’d scribbled your newest nickname, utenok, on the cover when you feared Natasha would eat it on you. The silliness and untainted delight that you had felt in that moment was practically unimaginable now. You tried to grasp at how light you had felt as you sat around the dining table joking with Wanda who had a smudge of peanut butter sauce on the tip of her nose, but you had come up empty handed quickly. 

Shaking your head, not wanting to spiral down another path of inconsolable tears, you directed your attention to finding a spoon. The many cabinets in the kitchen had once confused you, as they would anyone who was randomly dropped in a lavish kitchen with too many drawers to count, but now they were engraved in your memory and you hadn’t even stopped to question if you opened the right one, knowing confidently that you hadn’t messed up in months. The silverware was in the drawer closest to the sink, and you found a spoon easily. You hated how before you could even dig into your ice cream, that your mind felt the need to remind you about how in eight weeks, you’d have no right to this kitchen and the silverware inside of it. The first bite on your tongue felt wrong, and your stomach churned in thick guilt, but you ignored how badly you wanted to beg Wanda for forgiveness and went in for another mouthful. The sprinkles didn’t taste as sweet, but you knew that Wanda could see you from the living room so you kept up with the action. 

Her voice made you feel sick to your stomach when it finally attempted to reach your ears. “What are the rules, milaya?” She asked you with sternness, her eyes set into a thin glare that could end wars if the military let her loose on the battlefield. Nobody would go against her, they’d stand no chance, but you did. You had learned how to ignore the rush of guilt and shame that set in when she looked at you that way, and were becoming quite good at it if you had any say in the matter. No, that was a lie, the biggest lie that you had ever told yourself, but you had to try. You felt like the absolute worst person in the world when you went against Wanda, but in eight weeks there would be no Wanda to go against, so you tried to remain unbothered despite how bothered you actually were. 

“Don’t know. Don’t care.” Your clipped tone had made her flinch, had made her reel back into Natasha and pull her eyes away from you. Your heart dropped to your feet, your eyes stung with unshed tears that had come at least once every day since you realized how near the end was, but you didn’t apologize. You didn’t backtrack and attempt to amend what you were breaking. Instead, you scooped up another bite of ice cream that was significantly bigger than the last, and shoved it all into your mouth at once. The creamy flavor melted onto your tongue and tried to clear your mind, but the guilt made it difficult to win. You needed this. You needed them to hate you so that you could hate them, but it felt like a knife stabbing into your least important organs over and over. You could live without a spleen, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt for a while. You knew that you could live without them and their praise and reassurances, but that wouldn’t mean that even if they hated you it wouldn’t hurt. There was no good way out, but you were being forced closer and closer to the day with every minute that passed. 

“Put the ice cream away and get something else to eat, detka. You agreed to these rules.” Wanda came back at you harder, sterner, colder, and when you met her eyes from across two rooms, there was a fire beneath them that had made her near unrecognizable. Her publics were blown and darker than midnight as it hung over Westview, her lips were set into a firm line that would give her wrinkles by the time she was forty. She was miles away from the sweet woman you had seen glimpses of since dropping your what was your initial attitude, but even the woman you’d hated hadn’t been so harsh. Your nose crinkled, and for the softest second she believed that she had won, but when did you ever give in so easily, though nothing about this was easy. 

Raising your chin, the handle of the silver spoon felt heavy between your fingers that held it up to your lips where the taste of your treat lingered. She wasn’t going to make you back down when in eight weeks you’d be back on campus and without her. As horrible as it was to admit, you didn’t know who you were without them anymore. Natasha laid out outfits for you that paired sweetly with hers. Wanda made breakfast and dinner, and always asked you to help with lunch. They helped you sleep through storms and nightmares. They had satisfied you and completed you for ten months, and in turn you were just expected to know how to keep going without their rules. You’d drown before you even had the chance to swim. “Make me.” 

Daylight drenched the house in warmth, but the room felt cold when Wanda shot to her feet and started to approach with footsteps that were silent and deadly. You had half the mind to run in the opposite direction, to avoid whatever she was coming over to do, but you stayed firmly planted to the floor of the kitchen and dared to even take another mouthful of ice cream between your lips. For days you had been dismissive and hostile toward them, quieted by silence and fear, but those initial feelings were quickly folding into anger that begged to be released. 

You stiffened when her ringed hand caught your jaw, her fingertips squeezing your cheeks together not unkindly, but not softly either. You had amended your limits just as you had amended the rules now that Wanda was an active participant in your dynamic, but none of your new allowances had been used on you yet, there hadn’t been a reason. You had just given her a reason though, and your eyes, despite your willingness for them to remain slitted and annoyed, widened in shock immediately. You’d been adamant against Natasha grabbing you like this, a fear response from childhood that at the start of your relationship hadn’t yet been processed, but as your trust in their control had grown over time, so had your curiosity for harsher elements of kink and submission. Your core throbbed at the sensation of her fingers digging into your skin, and you wanted to kick yourself for folding so easily. You’d never accomplish anything if your body craved their touch, but getting them to hate you was just as hard as getting you to hate them. 

“I don’t know who you think you’re talking to like that. Mommy expects little girls to do as they're told the first time they’re asked, but it seems you’ve forgotten who you're with. One last chance, go put away the ice cream and find something else to eat. You will not take your attitude out on me when I have given you every opportunity to tell me what’s wrong.” If you thought she wouldn’t grab you any harsher, you were wrong. The grip she had on your face was painful now, and you could feel every grove in the metal around her fingers as they pressed into your cheeks and jaw. Every instinct in your body was screaming at you to listen to her, to just find something else to eat or ask her to make you something instead, but your anger had grown fond of disobedience, and you shook your head before you could process what would happen next. “Very well.” The hand on your face had fallen away just as quickly as it had come, leaving you with an ache on your face and soon an emptiness in your hands when she plucked the cup from between your grip and walked it over to the garbage can beneath the skin. You wanted to sob when you watched her throw it away, the bright colored cup a flash of pigment before it was completely out of sight and at the bottom of the bag. 

“What the fuck?” You complained, throwing the spoon down on the island countertop. The metal clanked against the marble when it made contact, but you didn’t care about how you might have scratched the surface they kept so perfect and tidy. There were too many bigger feelings coursing through your nerves to recognize how Wanda’s eyes snapped to the island before they fell upon yours again. She was getting sick and tired of your attitude. The sadness she’d felt when she first realized something was wrong hadn’t quickly become anger, but she was reaching that point now. You were forcing her over the edge with every minor act of brattiness you could even think to initiate. 

You were pinned between her body and the edge of the counter so quickly you hadn’t even realized that she had backed you in, but in a moment of forgetfulness, drunk of the state of her radiating dominance, your hands gripped onto the hem of her shirt and your eyes burned with desperation for her touch. You scolded yourself when you realized, but Wanda had already seen it and smirked knowingly down at you. You hadn’t responded to edging, but maybe you’d respond when someone properly ruined your orgasm for the first time. You never did take too kindly to their teasing, and it seemed that even in whatever funk had taken hold of you, your body was calling out for her attention. Who could blame you though, the three-day-old hickies on your neck were an indication of the last time you’d been touched, and you shared a bed with the hottest women in the world. 

Wanda’s hands were ruthless as they didn’t waste time with teasing. You’d been teased enough, there was no need for her to drag out your punishment. As cruel as she intended to be with you, she didn’t think you could handle being nothing but putty in her hands. Her and Natasha weren’t quiet when they ripped orgasms from each other in the shower at night as you laid in their bed waiting for their return, and they certainly weren’t quiet when they snuck into one of their offices upstairs in the middle of the day. Just because you hadn’t been touched, didn’t mean they hadn’t been, and the sounds of their pleasure had been torturous each and every time. They’d been waiting for you to come to them, waiting for the breaking point where you begged for their attention and any toy you were desperate enough to name at the moment. Asking for what you wanted was still hard, but they were patient enough to let you figure it out, and they had hoped that not immediately offering attention like they had a habit of doing would pull you out of your head. Clearly it hadn’t. Clearly, they’d failed to help you in yet another way. 

Wanda was in no mood to be patient anymore, and when her hands dipped beneath the waistband of your sleep shorts, that fact became very apparent to you. You gasped at the sensation of her cold fingers seeking out your clit with intent and eagerness. Your eyes snapped up to hers, a million silent questions buried beneath the haze of desperation her aggressiveness had provoked. You grinded down against her fingers, not being stopped. So much control was being placed in your hands, or at least that’s what you were being led to believe as she eased two fingers into your pulsating entrance and allowed you the freedom of grinding down on them however you wanted. You wanted to push her away, wanted to keep up your act and attitude, but that had all melted away from you the second her fingers curled into your soft spot. 

“Nobody’s touched this sweet pussy in three days.” Wanda hummed, her voice laced and dripping in false sympathy as she scissored you open and made you ache for more. There was no question to be answered in her observations, and it confused you. She almost always followed up with a question because she liked to see you squirm in pleasure unable to answer her. She liked to belittle you and force you to see just how pliable you were to her every direction. Everything that you had grown to accept and adore had been ripped away. Her lips hovered above yours, but they didn’t lean down to kiss you. Everything about this moment felt so impersonal and detached, and it made you cry out in frustration. She was only doing what you had done to her, she knew that, but you couldn’t even begin to wrap your head around it at this moment. When you’d eventually realize, she hoped it was enough to set you straight, because she desperately wanted to close the gap between your bodies and love you the right way. She kept her face mere inches from yours, her eyes open and hard and dilated. She was looking at you so cruelly, it made your insides feel like they were on trial. When a desperate moan fell from your lips, Wanda doubled her pace, ruthlessly rubbing circles on your clit that had become stiff beneath her thumb. “Gonna cum for Mommy, little slut?” 

“Y-Yes!” You only just barely managed to cry out, and you expected her to slow her pace and reprimand you for not asking her correctly, it had been three days since you’d called her Mommy and though you were aching for her to be just that to you, there was still bite left in your bones and Wanda merely hummed as she registered that fact. You would not like what was to come. She knew you would hate it. You liked full satisfying orgasms, and she couldn’t blame you for that, but the feeling you were about to become familiar with was the exact opposite. Only she was privy to that information though. 

“Then go ahead.” She shrugged haphazardly, a third finger daring to stretch you open and fill you up. Your walls accepted the burn, leaned into the pleasure, craved her touch and thanked every star in the universe for sending her down to you. With her permission to let go, you didn’t fight the coil from snapping within your belly. Your eyes fell closed at the sharp sensation of approaching, promised pleasure, but just as quickly as she’d let you think you were about to taste it, her fingers pulled away and left your hot cunt to pulsate and throb with no help or satisfaction. Your eyes shot open in shock, your hips writhing and bucking against the countertop as tears glistened in your eyes. You could feel it wash over you, just beneath the surface, but that was all that came from it. Your entrance sobbed at the loss of stimulation, your clit twitched and jumped in protest, but nothing could bring her back to you, and as quickly as you had tasted relief, it was gone and just nothing. 

“No!” You sobbed, your hand shooting out to grab Wanda’s wrist and drag it back to your uncomfortable core. She merely laughed at your distress, the sound foreign and cold as it rolled off her lips. Wanda had been mean, she’d been harsh and unforgiving, but she’d never been cruel. Not like this. Not with you. You didn’t know what to do with yourself as you stomped your feet and wiggling helplessly against the edge of the counter, unable to form the words that wouldn’t convince her to help you, but again, you didn’t know that this had been her plan all along; that no matter how much you begged and cried, she wasn’t going to make you cum. Not today. Not tomorrow. Maybe not even for the rest of the week. It depended on the state of your attitude. 

With a frown of sympathy that didn’t even attempt to be perceived as authentic, Wanda had the audacity to coo at your distressed expression and reach her hand out to gently cup your cheek that was damp from falling tears. “You didn’t like that, huh?” She questioned, her green eyes unwavering in their position of dominance. You shook your head feverishly, unable to stop the twitches of movement that made your entire body tremble. She offers you no support, no endearing kiss and soft reassurance, she’s allowed you to make your bed, it’s not her problem you’re expected to lay in it now. “You weren’t supposed to, devchonka. When you’re ready to talk about what’s bothering you, like the contract that’s been open in my office for the last week, we’ll see about fixing your little issue.” 

You swallowed thickly at the words she whispered against the sensitive shell of your ear, at the fact that she had figured out where your thoughts laid without you even saying anything. You wondered if she had told Natasha, wondered how long she had known what your attitude was about and had just been waiting for you to bring it up to her yourself. You had so many questions, but you always seemed to have questions when it came to Wanda and the ways in which she worked. Of course you had your own copy of the contract, they’d be horrible lawyers if they sent you away without one, but it had been thrown into a random box with the rest of your belongings when you had moved out of your dorm room in May. When you remembered the terms of the contract one afternoon, or more specifically when the agreed upon end would be, you’d sought out one of their copies, and Wanda’s was easiest to find. Her office was so meticulously clean and organized that it hadn’t been a hard task, but that should’ve been your first sign of caution. You were stupid to think she wouldn’t notice you’d been in there snooping around, you were even dumber for forgetting to put it back. So clearly in your mind you could remember how you fled in a state of panic when your eyes reached the black printed end date, August Third. You hadn’t been back in there since, and for the week that had followed, the contract had surely been sitting open and tear stained on her desk. You were an idiot. 

The only thing you could think to do as panic flared in your chest like a category five hurricane, was run in the opposite direction. Never in your life had you stood and faced a problem head on, and now was no time to start. Would she terminate the contract early? Would she berate you for having been in her office at all? You knew they had confidential files in almost every available drawer, and your heart raced with the possibility of her thinking you’d read them. You hadn’t, you’d only been looking for the contract, but you’d messed up too badly to even beg her to believe you on that. When the initial shock subsided, and you were aware enough to realize that Wanda had stepped away from you and offered you space, you didn’t even bother to grab your phone before you headed for the exit. You hadn’t stepped into your flip flops that had gained a permanent place beside the front door, didn’t even look back at Natasha calling for you to calm down and come back to her, you needed to get out of there before you could make things any worse. You're certain that Wanda hadn’t meant to rattle you so severely, she was just tired of dancing around the issue, but the damage was done, and you couldn’t stick around to see how it unfolded. 

The front door didn’t close behind you like you’d hoped. Your hand had barely even grazed against the edge of the door when you’d flailed your limb out towards it and you’d left in too much of a hurry for the gentle touch to matter anyways. Unfortunately for both them and you, it gave them the perfect glimpse of your form as it shot straight down the familiar route toward the beach. You hadn’t wanted them to know where you were going, hadn’t even considered it much, but it was an unconscious response after so many late night walks with Natasha. A sense of ease washed over Wanda when she could at least predict where you’d be going, but Natasha, who didn’t have the privilege of knowing what Wanda knew, was left to question whether she should go after you or not. You hadn’t brought shoes, and even if the shore was only seven blocks from the house, the asphalt would burn your skin in seconds. Despite the comfort that should’ve come with the fact that you were headed in the direction of a familiar and relatively safe location, Wanda could hear the rushing of blood in her ears as she retreated back to the living room and dropped down beside Natasha on the couch. Her face was the only indication of her worry, as her shoulders took the precision of a lawyer and sat aligned with her hips. 

Natasha sat absolutely stock still on the couch, her green eyes bouncing between Wanda’s crestfallen face and the open front door where she could vividly picture you standing so tensely before you were gone entirely. She’d known there was a problem, known that Wanda was on her last ounce of patience with your persistent disobedience, but she had placed all of her faith into her wife’s ability to handle things. She was accustomed to your bouts of bad days, aware that most of them came when your mother attempted to stir trouble in your life, but this felt different, this felt personal. Natasha’s gut clenched in guilt that she couldn’t even fathom the reason for. They’d been strict, and they’d been lenient, but any side of them hadn’t been received well, even when they approached you as equals. What you needed in this moment was anyone's guess, because anyone she tried to be for you only failed to help. Brokenly, like the world had just run away from her heart, Natasha kept her gaze steady on Wanda, begging to know what had happened. “What was that about?” The softest hint of not being a born and raised American played on the edge of her words, an indication that she was beyond upset. 

Wanda sighed, knowing it was never an easy conversation to be had when Natasha was too emotional to keep her accent out of her words. The woman preferred the American accent she’d adopted after nearly twenty-five years in the States, but no amount of practice could ever fully take Russia out of her heart. Natasha might put it on thick when she was trying to wind her up, might throw it out boldly when she wants to catch you off guard, but when it was soft, when it was gentle and broken, the Sokovian knows that it isn’t intentional. After so many years together she’s become fluent in the subtle tells of the woman's emotions. “She was looking at the contract a couple of days ago.” Wanda knows what her wife needs, and so she lets her own native accent lace her words. In this moment, they’re just two women from places of destruction that thought they had finally found something good. They’re not CEO’s with enough money to buy a country if they so pleased, they’re not dominants who seek to have control and obedience, they’re merely two hearts that just watched a piece of them run away in tears. 

“Why?” Natasha frowns when she finally processes the simple sentence Wanda whispered into the dry and heavy air around their warm and lonely bodies. She tries to wrack her brain for anything that she might’ve done in recent days that had violated the terms you’d agreed on, but she can’t find a single reason for you to have sought out Wanda’s copy of the contract and fled the way you did. Things had been going so well, only a few weeks ago she had asked you how you wanted to spend the anniversary of your dynamic, and she’d not seen even an ounce of reluctance in your eyes when you said you just wanted to spend it with her and Wanda. She’d been looking forward to it since then, meticulously sneaking off to her office and planning little things to fill the day with that she knew you would adore. She’d already drafted a new contract, one that was void of an end date because as much as she knew she wanted you eternally, that wasn’t yet a conversation that she had come to you with. Did you not want that now? Had she been a fool to ever think you did? 

Wanda’s face melted at the utterly crushed gleam that rested within Natasha’s typically vibrant green eyes. Sadness wasn’t even a strong enough word to abridge the kaleidoscope of emotions that crashed against her features like the shore, but Wanda didn’t need words, she already knew. She was feeling it too. “O, milaya.” She smiles sadly, knowing that as sharp as her wife can be, she was blind to the little gestures of love you’d been throwing out. She reciprocated them all, went above and beyond for you, but her own past had tainted the purity of affection. That was not something Wanda could blame her for missing, but didn’t stop her from hating. “She’s scared. As much as you have a hard time realizing that girl is head over heels for you, my best guess is that she thinks all of this,” Wanda gestures around the visible rooms, her eyes sweeping over your shoes in the entryway before they fall on the baby blue blanket Natasha had bought solely with you in mind that now lives on the loveseat in a ball. There are so many subtle traces of your presence that linger in their perfectly kept rooms, and Wanda adores each and every one. “is because of the contract.”

Natasha feels so stupid for not having realized the cause of your apprehension toward her sooner. If it were possible for her heart to break into a million pieces of sharp glass, she’s sure the organ would have crumbled into dust by now. She wonders how many nights you had laid awake between her and Wanda and tallied them off as one of your last chances to do so. The exhaustion on your face makes sense now, the inward spiraling she’d watched you do wasn’t so random anymore. She hates that she spent the first ten years of her life in a family void of love, she hates that even now at thirty-four, she hasn’t figured out how to show how she feels clearly. If she could just get over herself, maybe you wouldn’t be questioning your place in her home. “No.” Natasha shakes her head, her eyes begging with Wanda to believe the next string of words that fall from her tongue, “I-I love her.” 

Wanda smiles that same sad smile again, and her hands that are free of scars and calluses hold firmly to Natasha’s cheeks. It’s not the same grip that she’d held you with in the kitchen, it’s softer and tender and expels all of her unspoken emotions that nobody has found the words for yet. Tears glimmer in her eyes as she nods her head to the whispered admission that had been danced around for four months. Wanda’s always known that her wife has found another home in your heart, just like she’s always known that you’ve found a home in hers. She’s accepted that, but beyond that, she’s found a home in you too. “I know that, Natalia. YA nikogda ne zadavalsya etim voprosom. Nikodga. YA tozhe yeye lyublyu. YA lyublyu vas oboikh.” 

Natasha’s eyes brim with tears at the whispered confession in her native language. Sokovian and Russian are close enough to understand without having to learn the other, but Wanda had gone the extra mile to make her feel at home even thousands of miles away. Russia had never felt as soft as Wanda does in this moment, and Natasha can’t even begin to explain how disgustingly in love she is with the woman sat beside her. “My skazali, chto eto ne bylo nikakikh usloviy. My smotreli Pinokkio, i ty spel mne etu pesnyu. YA obeshchal tebe nikakikh usloviy.” Tears leak down Natasha’s face in single streams that resemble rivers, but Wanda’s quick to wipe them away, thinking her wife’s face is too beautiful to hold such sorrow. 

A wet chuckle falls from Wanda’s lips as she shakes her head, a soft smile pulling at the corners of her mouth that can’t quite stay in place with the sadness that keeps her still. “Vsegda byli kakiye-to usloviya, dorogaya. Menya ustraivayut eti struny. YA khochu eti struny.” There’s understanding and acceptance in her eyes, and Natasha doesn’t understand how she’s done something good enough to deserve a wife so accommodating. Wanda’s always known that Natasha was never fully hers, much like she’s always known she was never fully Natashas. Their hearts were forged in the same fire of pain and suffering. Wanda lost her home to bombings and war, Natasha lost hers to violent abuse. They were the best and worst parts of one another but you; you fit on them like a glass slipper made by magic. You fulfilled every part of their traumatized souls that they’d thought would remain empty until death took them whole. You showed them unconditional love, and yeah, you were blemished and traumatized too, but that just made it better.  

“I should have gone after her.” Natasha whispers into the silence that hasn’t fully come over the house in weeks. There was never silence when you were around, even when you slept whispered words of sweetness fell into the air as you wiggled and tossed in a dream she could only hope was innocent as you are. Her head falls forward until her forehead rests against Wanda, their green eyes that are so vastly different but similar connecting passionately. There’s worry brewing in her chest that she just can’t ignore, not when you’re out there without any way to communicate with them. You’re a perfectly capable adult, she knows that you can handle yourself, but you shouldn’t have to; not when you have her. 

“She needed space, moya lyubov’. She’ll come back to us.” Wanda mumbles, her lips ghosting over Natasha’s. It’s not quite a kiss, neither one of them lean into it, but neither of them pull away either. Right now, they just need to be close, they just need to hold onto hope that wherever you are, you’ve found the peace you needed. 

“She has to.” Natasha lets her eyes fall closed, and she silently counts the beats of her heart that she can feel against her ribcage. She loves you. She hadn’t been ready to admit it before, but it’s the only thing she can think of now. 

There’s a wistful smile on Wanda’s lips, and her eyes are so far away that Natasha knows she’s thinking of something specific. Whatever memory it is, she doesn’t ask. She just leans into her wife and hopes that she’s right, but Wanda’s never wrong, so there's no reason to worry. “She will. She always does.” 

-

The sand is coarse beneath your feet as the shore gets farther and farther behind you, off in the distance there's a seagull swooping down to steal the sandwich that one of the shoobies has packed from home, but you don’t witness the chaos unfold as you pace your way toward land. You don’t know how long it's been, but you know that the sun has shifted in the sky and the faintest wisp of pink clings to the horizon. The end of daylight is an approaching promise, and when it dawns on Westview you want nothing more than to be wrapped up safely in Wanda's arms for the duration of it. Even if it ends tomorrow, you need just one more night where you can pretend it’s all real. 

There’s a pair of vibrant seafoam green flip flops on your feet that aren’t yours, but the child who left them behind doesn’t miss them too much, hopefully at least. They barely fit, the heels of your feet hanging over the edge, but you're willing to suffer if it means avoiding the searing hot pavement on your journey back to the Maximoff residence. You don’t know why you ran, don’t know why you allowed yourself to fall back on that learned response to anything going awry, but there was nothing you could do to change how you reacted now. The time away had forced you into sounder thoughts, and the song of the ocean as it crashed against land had eased you down from panic quite well. All that lingered through your body now was longing for arms that felt forbidden, but you hoped they would make an exception just this once. The seven blocks back to the Maximoff residence was well known. You watched as the pastel homes that lined the coast as far as the eye could see became muted buildings and beige houses, counting down the sharp corners until the last number that remained was one. Six blocks had passed too quickly, in the estimated eleven minutes that it had been since your back faced the shore and your mind had made the decision to return, you hadn’t had the time to prepare yourself for what could possibly await you when you entered. The house could be ripped to shreds, or it could be still in perfect silence. Those had been the only two options when you were a child, but you found that it was neither when you finally mustered up the courage to set your hand on the unlocked knob and twist. 

You felt the eeriest sense of deja vu ambush your already hypersensitive nerves as you set your gaze on Wanda and Natasha cuddled together on the couch, watching old sitcom reruns beneath the blanket that had been bought by Natasha, and until this moment, solely used by you. Wanda had put up such a fuss about how it clashed with the theme they’d decorated the room with, you thought she might demand Natasha return it the very instance she saw it peeking out of a shopping bag, but that threat never came, and after seeing how in love you were with the feather light material, she had never even dared to move it into the linen closet where every other blanket they owned resided. Seeing them cuddled beneath something that had been bought specifically for you stirred feelings in your chest that you would much rather avoid but you wouldn’t run from your problems again. 

When your presence was noticed, it was merely seconds before two sets of strong and familiar arms wrapped tightly around your neck and torso. Wanda’s head burrowed deep into your chest seeking darkness while Natasha’s found a comfortable home in your shoulder demanding promise that you were real. It was never you in this position, with women clinging onto you desperately like you might vanish, but now that it was, you didn’t know what to do to console them. You mirrored the actions they’d done for you so many times before, hoping that it was the right move. One of your hands fell on the center of Wanda’s back, while the other curled into Natasha’s hair tightly. A strangled sigh escaped from your lips when you submitted to the comfort they radiated, but you knew that forgiveness was too good to be true, so you waited with baited breath for the other shoe to drop. 

“Don’t ever do that again.” Wanda mumbled into your chest, your skin kissed by unrelenting sunlight unsurprisingly warm beneath her cheek as she craned her head to look up into your eyes that were already looking down at her. Her knees must be bent, because otherwise she’d be nearly six inches taller than you, but you appreciate the shift in position even if it’s foreign. You’ve never noticed how thin the bridge of her nose is until now, and softly, unable to help yourself, you leaned down to kiss the unblemished and freckle-free skin. Her eyes fluttered closed at the close proximity of your faces, but if you thought that would’ve been enough to quell her scolding, you were wrong. “Do you hear me, dorogaya. Do not ever leave like that again.” Her fingers curled into the fabric of your sleep shirt and you felt your heart sink with guilt. 

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, not even sure if the weight behind your words was strong enough to reach her ears comprehensively. Tears brimmed within your eyes before you could stop them, and you felt small in your skin like it didn’t really fit on your body. Wanda pulled away from your embrace first, her head shaking firmly left to right as she unmade you with one simple look. You didn’t understand how she could do that, but you felt properly vulnerable beneath her heavy stare.

Her words were soft, and her hand reached out to tenderly hold your face. It would be weeks before they could trust that you wouldn’t go running away again. “Don’t apologize. There’s no reason to apologize.” She promised genuinely, even though you felt like that was the furthest thing from the truth. “I just need you to promise you’ll never run like that again. You don’t even know how badly you scared me, angel.” Her voice was raw, thin and shaky, and you realized quickly that the anger you’d been expecting was nowhere to be found. In place of it however, was worry and concern that could make even the worst person weak in the knees with sympathy. 

“I won’t.” You returned the gentle whisper, your eyes fluttering shut as you tried to collect yourself. Natasha still gripped you firmly and persistently, her hands clawing at the loose fabric of your sleep shirt like she was trying to get beneath it without really removing it at all. You’d never seen her so distressed before, and your eyes met Wanda’s in a panic not knowing what to do to console her. 

Wanda smiled softly at you before her hand fell onto the small of Natasha’s back and rubbed gentle circles. You absorbed the little pieces of information that was being provided, pocketing them for a later date that in full transparency, you hoped never came. You didn’t like seeing her so out of sorts, and you especially didn’t like being the reason for it. “Ona nikuda ne denetsya, dorogaya. Teper' ty mozhesh' otpustit'. Posmotri na neye, ona nastoyashchaya. Ona bol'she ne uydet. Vse normal'no.” Wanda’s words were quick and soft, delivered in what you could only assume was Russia, but they seemed to work effectively because not even a second later, Natasha was pulling away from where she had attached herself to you and her eyes searched your face and body for any visible injuries. 

“I’m okay.” You promised softly, not entirely sure if your word meant anything to her anymore, but hoping that they still did. You didn’t need to hear her internal questions to know what answer she wanted from you, and you were more than willing to provide what little information you could if it meant sparing you the heartbreak of having to witness her so broken down again. You didn’t have all the answers she wanted though, and that part pained you deeply. As much as you knew why you had run, and you could explain it to her if she asked, you didn’t have any valid reason as to why Wanda’s words had spooked you so much. Maybe it was the confirmation that things were really changing, or maybe it was something entirely different that you would never know. “A little sunburnt, but I’m okay.” You added when you sensed her hesitation to believe you, and she nodded curtly at your added affirmation. There was no denying the tautness in your cheeks, the only indication that sat on your skin that you’d wake up in lingering pain tomorrow. Sun burns had never been so common for you, but now you have one nearly every week. 

Wanda guided your attention back to her carefully, not wanting to rattle you like she had hours prior. Your wide eyes stared into hers without any hesitation or reluctance, clinging onto the open silence that rested comfortably overtop of you. The walls that you had slowly been building for the last week were finally gone, and in their places was the girl that she knew was just desperate for affection and tender care. Wanda hadn’t realized how much she missed you until she had you back, and she promised herself she’d never let you slip so far away again. “Are you ready to talk to us, milaya moya?” 

You nodded your head at her simple question, not wanting to avoid the topic any longer then you already had. It wouldn’t get any easier the longer you waited, and desperately you wanted all to be forgiven so you could lean up and kiss her. It didn’t feel right to do that now, not when you hadn’t offered her any kind of explanation or apology for your ongoing behavior. She took your hand routinely, a small habit that had formed in the weeks that followed the change in your relationship. She was always leading you around, always hovering and assuring that you were content and okay. If you were in a public space, she set the expectations that if you weren’t holding onto her or Natasha, you were within eyeshot. If you were in the car, even if she’d heard your seatbelt click into place, she was leaning over to fix it and assure it fell over your chest correctly. There was so much love in her simple actions, you felt like crying just recounting a few of them in your head. She guided you over to the couch, only letting go of your hand so that she could ease you down onto the soft cushions that welcomed your weight without protest and drape the soft blue blanket across your sun kissed thighs. You were thankful for the addition of your blanket, already cold from the abrupt displacement of the unfiltered sun against your skin. 

“Can I go first?” Wanda asked cautiously once all three of you were settled on the couch. Natasha was curled up against the arm of the sofa, looking entirely unlike herself as she gnawed nervously on her bottom lip and flickered her gaze between you and Wanda. The Sokovian was in a similar position, though her hand was grasping yours securely and her thumb ran over your knuckling soothingly. Natasha made no attempt to touch you, and you tried to swallow down your disappointment. You didn’t deserve her touch, you were lucky enough to have Wanda. 

You nodded at the lawyer's question, your eyes briefly trailing over to gaze at Natasha, wanting to assure that it was alright with her that you allow Wanda to take control of the conversation for the time being. It would give you time to get your own thoughts in order, and Natasha had no protests about the idea, inclining her head the slightest inch. Wanda smiled softly at the both of you, her grip never wavering around your hand. “I’ll start with what I think spooked you so badly this afternoon.” Wanda’s voice was soft and patient, no ounce of anger lingering in her tone like you’d been expecting. It was as if you’d already been forgiven for your week-long attitude and misbehavior, something that was still foreign to you after nearly a year of being treated this way. The Maximoff’s never went to bed angry, it was a rule within their own relationship that had also fallen upon you, but you aren’t sure that you’d ever get used to it. “I found the contract on my desk a few days ago. I thought nothing of it until I noticed how you started to pull away from Natasha and I.” You winced slightly, shame rushing over you, but Wanda merely smiled encouragingly down at you when she felt the minor movement. “I had hoped that you would come to us when you were ready to talk about it. I didn’t want to rush you into a conversation you couldn’t handle. Natasha and I work so well because we communicate with one another, sometimes it takes a couple of days for us to sort out our thoughts on something that we don’t agree with, but we make it a point not to hold any judgment until we have the full story. This is all so new to you still, I figured you might like the same curiosity. I can take responsibility for not addressing the issue sooner; for not letting you know that I saw you were upset right away. It must’ve seemed like we didn’t care about what was going on in that pretty little head of yours, but that was never the reason we didn’t say anything. Your feelings matter just as much as ours, this is not a one-sided relationship. You don’t have to make yourself small just so we’re not inconvenienced. With that being said, I shouldn’t have approached you the way that I did in the kitchen. That was a lot of new things all at once when you were already feeling pretty confused, huh?” 

You listened intently to Wanda’s words, hanging onto her every syllable as you gave her your full undivided attention. At some point, Natasha’s body had curled into yours, but you barely even recognized the way she was trying to hold you as you let yourself fall into a world where only you and Wanda existed. Behind her, daylight had melted into blackness, nightfall in full swing overtop of Westview. The weight of her apology had struck a chord within your broken heart, and you’d almost violently flinched away from it, but by some miracle, you remained perfectly still. It didn’t feel right to be receiving such an honest apology, but you knew she’d only fight you on the matter if you spoke up about how undeserving you felt. You just barely managed to nod your head at her question, squeezing her hand tightly. “Yeah.” 

“How did you feel about it?” She smiled encouragingly, always eager to hear your opinions on the new things they implemented when you were in the proper headspace to accurately communicate how it had made you feel. It was all still so new to you, and talking about sex felt like something cliche, but you tried your best for them. At the follow up question, you became faintly aware of how Natasha’s hand slipped beneath your t-shirt and sat firmly on the warm skin of your back, reassuring you that she was there as well and at the first sign of trouble she’d pull you out. 

“I… liked it.” You admitted shyly, your gaze flickering down to the blanket that covered your thighs and brought a comforting warmth over your body that goosebumps had threatened to adorn had she not covered you so quickly. You found that running your fingers over the soft blue checkered pattern was more interesting than meeting Wanda’s intense stare, still not entirely used to the way that it made you feel vulnerable. “I didn’t like when you pulled away though.” 

She smiled sympathetically, and this time it was genuine. Flashes of the earlier afternoon settled at the forefront of your memory, and you could distinctly recall how her grin had been anything but what it was now when you were pinned between her body and the counter writing in frustration. “You weren’t supposed to like that part, milaya. How do you feel about keeping ruined orgasms as punishment?” 

“Okay.” You shrugged, not really having an opinion on the subject. It wasn’t something you hated, not even really something you minded if you were going to be honest, but the idea of incorporating it into your sex life felt too bold. If you were going to be giving yourself over to Wanda or Natasha, you didn’t want the decision of if you were going to be allowed to enjoy your climax fully to be fully over your head the entire time. You were aware enough to know that a situation like that would only trigger your anxiety. 

“Okay.” Wanda copied your words, a teasing smile pulling at her lips when you finally mustered up the courage to meet her eyes again. A timid blush settled across your cheeks with heat that rivaled the summer sun, a shy smile pulled at the corners of your lips as you sat beneath her pride filled expression, but you didn’t back away from her stare, slowly gaining back the confidence you had lost. “Now, do you wanna tell us why you were so upset about the contract? I think we have a pretty good idea, but we need to hear it in your words.” 

You swallowed thickly, almost tempted to shake your head and push the conversation off for another time, but Natasha gripped your waist soothingly and spared you a smile that felt limited now. You hated that you had been the cause of her distress, hated that it still lingered on her face and there was nothing you could do to amend it. You took a breath, trying to keep yourself together before you fell apart again. How do you tell two married women that you love them? There’s not exactly a handbook that goes through step-by-step explanations for this sort of conversation. “The contract ends soon. In less than eight weeks. I don’t– I can’t– I don’t want to just– You’re married!” You finally bellowed, frustration lacing your tone at the jumbled mess of words that got caught in the back of your throat before they’d even become full sentences. “You’re married and I’m just a contract and I– I like this. I like being here with you, and I’m scared about what happens when it ends and you have no obligation to keep me around. I thought that if I pushed you away it would make having to leave easier.” 

You didn’t want to see the expressions on their faces as you cracked, everything you’d been meaning to tell them for weeks and long days finally out in front of you for them to analyze and criticize however they pleased. Maybe it wasn’t everything, maybe you’d kept some very major things to yourself, but it was enough to leave you feeling vulnerable and raw. Your eyes glimmered with tears, the lights in the room reflecting off of them in a way that allowed them to resemble stars. Wanda thought you were too pretty to cry, but she also couldn’t help but get lost in the galaxy you allowed the world to witness. It was Natasha’s voice that captured your attention, and your head snapped in her direction when the first words out of her mouth were an apology. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t make it clear to you how much I want you here, moy malen'kiy utenok.” Her voice cracked as she held onto your stare, feeling just as vulnerable as you as she let herself be less than a world-class lawyer for the time being. She was just Natalia right now, sat beside you with her own set of tears dampening her eyes and a pout that wasn’t quite a frown on her lips that were the same color as fresh unskinned peaches. She wasn’t Natasha, the version of herself who had her entire life figured out and laid in perfect rows ahead of her, but Natalia, the woman who had just barely survived childhood in Russia before she was adopted by a family that had just barely escaped years prior. Even if Melina and Alexei weren’t perfect parents, they tried so hard to be the remedy that her shattered heart needed. The words Melina had engraved in her mind were the only thing that kept her talking as she stared down at you. You didn’t realize that behind you, Wanda was mouthing the words like a mantra, an added element of encouragement that Natasha didn’t really need, but appreciated nonetheless; ‘Pain only makes you stronger, big girl. Do not cry over the growth you are experiencing’. “You are not just a contract. You’ve never been just a contract, I hate that you even think that’s all you are. Before I met Wanda, the only person I had ever known how to love was Yelena. And even then, I didn’t do it right most of the time. My parents… they believed that love was your greatest weakness. They taught me how to hate, and how to hide who I am. I’m still learning how to let people in.” Natasha drew a shaky breath in, her fingers that rested on the skin of your hip clutched you tightly, begging you to stay; to see and believe the truth in her words. “I put that end date on your contract so that you would have the choice to decide if, when the year ended, you wanted to stay. It was never meant to be an official end. Honey, I could never let you walk out of my life. Not fully. Not without at least trying to get you to stay. I look forward to coming home to you just as much as I look forward to coming home to Wanda. YA tebya lyublyu.” 

Your breath caught in your throat at the whispered confession she was certain you couldn’t understand. You heard her and Wanda whisper sweet nothings in their native languages often, but you never paid close enough attention to them. It had always felt intimate, like a secret only they were allowed to know, but you’d spent countless hours teaching yourself simpler phrases and sayings. A wet smile pulled your lips firmly upward, and you leaned just close enough for your forehead to brush against Natasha’s. You didn’t know she’d done the same thing to Wanda earlier, but Sokovian smiled softly at your likeness, even if the both of you were painfully blind to it. 

“I love you too.” You whispered back, your eyes locked firmly on the Russian’s. You smirked smugly at the expression of pure surprise that easily captured Natasha’s features, and you fondly remembered a similar look crossing Wanda’s face when you had pleaded with her to stop teasing. “I’ve been teaching myself. Little phrases, nothing major, not yet at least. I can’t speak it very well, but I can confidently understand when you call me an idiot and think I’m none the wiser.”  Wanda laughed softly at your admission, though Natasha’s cheeks flushed crimson knowing she’d been caught, on multiple occasions. She always did it affectionately, that was never a question in your mind, but you enjoyed teasing her, and you especially enjoyed seeing that warm smile come back to her face. “YA tebya lyublyu.” You whispered to her, your face mere inches from hers. 

“Say it again.” Natasha demanded, her eyes laced with lust that hadn’t been taken care of by your hands in days. You would certainly need to fix that. You merely remained smug against your spot on the couch, acutely aware of how Wanda’s arms circled around your waist and pinned you to her chest. You raised your hands to cup her still flushed cheeks, gingerly pressing your lips to her nose in a kiss too soft to fully quench her need for you. With her face in your hands, you briefly flashed back to the impromptu escapade you’d embarked on in the shower on the morning of their Memorial Day barbeque, more specifically how quickly she’d managed to flip your position in a matter of seconds, but you still dared to try and remain the one in control anyway. 

You shook your head at her request, certain that your lips would remain in a permanent smirk if she didn’t do something about it soon. “Show me.” You uttered, the need to taunt her thick and evident in your simple demand that only further drove her crazy. “Show me how much you love me, Nat.” The breathiness of your words brushed against her face, and she didn’t hesitate to comply for a single second. She’d be a proper full to turn you down. 

Lips that tasted faintly of cherry met yours in a passionate embrace that had a moan slipping from your open mouth and into hers. The force of her attack had been unsuspected, and it sent you falling backward into Wanda who accepted the heavy weight of your body against hers greedily. There was no fight for dominance, no urgency in Natasha’s kiss. She had kissed you a million times before but none had ever felt so vulnerable and real and right. You weren’t kissing her as your dominant. No, for the first time ever you were kissing her as the woman you loved. She licked at you slowly, tasting every inch of your mouth like it was the first and last time she’d ever have the opportunity to do so, and you allowed her that freedom without complaint. Your tongue clashed with hers on multiple occasions, the both of you too eager to prove your love that rhythm failed you. Each time your tongue touched, you moaned in tandem and grew red in the face. Not from embarrassment, but because neither of you had come up for air since leaning forward. Wanda, despite not being a part of your make-out session, had made herself busy behind you, not wanting to miss out entirely. Her soft lips ran over the skin on your neck, dampened by her tongue that had swept across them eager. She was careful not to hurt you, knowing all the places that became especially sensitive when you were turned on, but she made every effort to make her claim against your skin as she bit and sucked on expanses of skin that had miraculously remained unmarked until this moment. When Natasha bit down on your bottom lip, you couldn’t take the pleasure any longer, and your head tilted backward in pure ecstasy.  

“I want– I want your clothes off. Both of you..” You choked out breathlessly, just barely managing to pull yourself away from Wanda’s mouth on your neck, despite wanting to drown yourself in the sensations she was causing to shoot down your spine. You could appreciate their slow pace another day, but right now, all you wanted was to have them fully, to take their bodies into your hands and make them cum. It had been far too long since you’d last had the privilege. 

“Look at you making demands.” Wanda teased, her teeth nipping at your neck one last time before she complied with your request. You had half the mind to push her away and roll your eyes in fond exasperation, but Natasha feverishly stripping out of her clothes had distracted you before the words could fall from between your lips in a rushed mumble. The Russian wasted no time in making the act look sexy, you’d seen her be sexy about three million and one times. Right now was not about appearances, it was solely about connecting with the two women you loved. The women you loved. The women who loved you. Even if Wanda hadn’t said it, letting you have your moment with Natasha, you felt it. You felt it in the way she’d held you so tightly at the door. You felt it in the way she made sure you had a blanket when she sat you down to talk. You felt it now as the tenderness of your neck set in firmly. You were so beyond loved, and you loved them so beyond much. Natasha’s hair was a tousled and properly frizzy mess by the time she had actually managed to pull her shirt away from her body and discard it haphazardly on the floor to be picked up later, but you thought she looked stunning with wild curls framing her face and a flush blush to her cheeks and neck. Her leggings went next, and with them came a set of royal blue panties you’d never seen before. You’d definitely be making it known how much you loved them when you were in the proper mindset to speak full sentences. 

Wanda forced your head in her direction after her clothes had joined the already existing heap of fabric on the floor. Your sleep shirt and shorts were nestled somewhere between the both of their more presentable outfits, but you couldn’t help but think the difference of wardrobe perfectly summarized your relationship. It felt especially fitting in this moment with your body pressed between the both of them. Wanda pulled you in for a desperate kiss, her lips softer then Natasha’s but her teeth crueler. You whined when she pulled away too soon for your liking, but it was replaced with a desperate moan when she breathed out instructions against your lips, “You’re going to eat me out, and Natasha’s going to finger you.” 

“What about– What about Nat?” You questioned, but Wanda was already lowering her position on the couch and spreading her legs for you to see her fully. You groaned at the wetness that clung to the inside of her thighs, not even sparing a single second before you dove straight into her dripping cunt. The first taste of her arousal against your tongue had forced you into autopilot. You’d become fluent in the language of her pussy, and it hadn’t failed you yet as you lapped at her clit with a heavy pressure and let your fingers explore her entrance before they dipped in fully. You hadn’t thought that this could get any better, but then you felt Natasha’s warm cunt settle firmly against the back of your flexed calf. Your doggy position gave her the perfect chiseled surface to grind against however she pleased. You didn’t have questions about her pleasure anymore, knowing exactly how the Russian planned to cum; on your leg. 

The groan that slipped past your lips when two of her fingers pushed against your weeping entrance shot right into Wanda’s clit, and the Sokovian moaned loudly at the sensation that tickled up her belly and through her spine. Your tongue worked double time against her sensitive bundle of nerves, and eventually your fingers found a brutal pace that matched Natasha’s. Every time the Russian’s fingers curled into your softest spot, yours curled into Wanda’s. Every time the Russian’s hips stuttered against your calf, your tongue flicked harshly at Wanda’s clit. Your motions were perfectly in sync. They weren’t romantic, they lacked grace and care, but they were exactly what you all needed in this moment. When Wanda cried out in pleasure that came solely from your mouth and fingers, a complete sense of pride washed over you. Your tongue didn’t stop caressing her clit, working her farther and farther up the hill Natasha had you climbing steadily. 

It was only when the Russian’s thumb rubbed a particularly harsh and tight circle against your clit that you came with a body shaking moan that effectively pushed Wanda over that same edge. Natasha wasn’t far behind, and when you’d only just started to come down from your intense high, she was reaching hers. Her hips stuttered and jerked against your naked calf that glistened with her juices undoubtedly, and you couldn’t stop yourself from flexing the muscle beneath her weight. You collapsed against Wanda’s chest the second you had felt Natasha go slack behind you, and slowly, you pulled your fingers from where they rested in her cunt. Cheekily, you licked them clean, maintaining eye contact all the while. Natasha wasn’t as selfish. Her fingers shot out to Wanda’s lips in a second, and the Sokovian allowed their weighted presence in her mouth as she lapped up for juices. The sight was unreal, and if you hadn’t already been jello against her chest, you were certain you would’ve melted into her. 

“Wands?” You called out sleepy, not having the energy to even crane your head and search for her eyes in the dim lighting of the living room. 

“Yes, dorogaya?” She answered you softly, her own eyes fluttering closed just as Natasha found a comfortable position against the back of the couch. Your limbs were entangled, thighs between thighs and ankles crossed over, but you made it work. It would leave you with a serious kink in your neck tomorrow, but for tonight, it was the only place you wanted to be. 

“I love you too.” You whispered in Sokovian, having practiced them tirelessly since the first day you realized that your feelings for Wanda had never been hatred. You found that the languages merged beautifully together, but you wanted Wanda to feel just as seen and special as Natasha. You didn’t see her face when the words fell from your lips, you wish you’d had the energy to look at her when you finally admitted defeat and gave into your confused feelings, but just feeling the way her breath hitched in your chest was enough for you in this moment. 

Her hand, still adorned with rings that were cold to the touch, fell onto the small of your back like they’d always belonged exactly there, and held you to her chest tightly, not wanting to risk for even a single moment that if she wasn’t touching you, you’d fall away and never return. “I love you too, sweetheart. So much. You don’t even know.” 

“I do.” You whispered, your eyelids heavy and unable to fight against sleep, but there was one last thing that you wanted to say before you gave in entirely and left this perfect moment to be just another memory. “Natty?” You called, hoping the Russian was still awake against your side. 

“Yes, moya lyubov’.” Her voice was thick, gravely as it fell into the silence that was pulling you deeper beneath the blanket of dreamland that hadn’t felt peaceful in days. 

“YA tebya lyublyu.” You barely managed to get out, but you did, and just before you fell asleep, you heard her mumble back the same. 

It may not be perfect, but it didn’t really need to be.

I know that, Natalia. YA nikogda ne zadavalsya etim voprosom. Nikodga. YA tozhe yeye lyublyu. YA lyublyu vas oboikh. — I never questioned that. I love her too. I love both of you.

My skazali, chto eto ne bylo nikakikh usloviy. My smotreli Pinokkio, i ty spel mne etu pesnyu. YA obeshchal tebe nikakikh usloviy. — We said it was no strings attached. We watched Pinnochio and you sang the song to me. I promised you no strings.

Vsegda byli kakiye-to usloviya, dorogaya. Menya ustraivayut eti struny. YA khochu eti struny. — There was always going to be strings attached, honey. I'm okay with these strings. I want these strings.

Ona nikuda ne denetsya, dorogaya. Teper' ty mozhesh' otpustit'. Posmotri na neye, ona nastoyashchaya. Ona bol'she ne uydet. Vse normal'no. — She's not going anywhere, darling. You can let go now. Look at her, she's real. She's not leaving again. It's okay.

moy malen'kiy utenok — my little duckling

[boltwrites]

I need a Logan/Wade/Reader fic where reader is dating Wade (before movie) and meets Logan, sees how he acts with Wade, and makes a ton of “just fuck already” jokes that Wade (ofc) encourages and it pisses Logan off until he does one day (reader included lol) 😏

A/N: i'm going to have to make a part 2 for this, since this is pretty much solely humor and reader making fun of wade and logan. i will be making a part 2 for the smut, though. mark my fucking words.

some things to note: reader is stated as polyamorous and LGBT (no specific label is mentioned). also, lots of sex jokes and fourth wall breaks lmao.

You were used to Wade bringing around some strange characters. Usually, they thought he had drugs or something (which he did, most of the time. Until they all mysteriously went missing right before his birthday party. Almost like his unsavory lifestyle was suddenly sanitized for wider consumption. Hm. Weird.) Sometimes they wanted money - other times it seemed more likely that Wade was holding them for ransom and relapsing into his merc days. But that wasn't really your business.

The point to your opening statement was: you didn't really want to fuck Wade's friends. Astonishing, really - you went to high school with a group of weird kids that all turned out to be some flavor of L,G,B or T and as such, you either wanted to or did fuck most of them. But Wade's friends? They just lacked a little something-something. Al was too old and too high most of the time. Yukio and her gruff girlfriend were far too young for you. Colossus was too Russian. Vanessa was Wade's ex - which would have been hot, honestly - but you weren't the biggest fan of how the two of them handled the post-breakup, and therefore she was off limits. But Peter... maybe...?

No. No, if you fucked Peter, Wade would never let you hear the end of it.

So, you were typically relegated to Wade, and Wade alone, which was more than fine by you. That insane healing factor meant the man could go all night, and he was naturally (or, unnaturally. Mutantly?) ribbed for your pleasure. Nice.

So when he came back from his most recent world-saving (multiverse saving?) adventure, you expected him to bring back maybe some kind of bright-eyed teenage sidekick, or a wacky off-the-wall team up, like Dopinder.

Ah, right, Dopinder. God, you would have fucked him. Sadly, the man was staunchly monogamous like some kind of fucking freak.

Anyway, that's not the point. The point is, when you walked into Wade's unbirthday party? He had company. And the company? Hot. Old. Man.

Oh no. Your fucking weakness.

You'd really never forgive Wade for evaporating Cable before you had a chance with him.

Maybe this was his make-up present.

And said present - or, man, shouldn't objectify - could not take his damn eyes off Wade. Glaring at him, huffing a little half-chuckle when Wade insulted someone with a joke, rolling his eyes as Wade recounted some story of their conquests with exaggerated arm movements and wild, unnecessary additions.

Oh my god. Oh my god? Did Wade fuck him before you could? That bitch!

You scoffed to yourself as you threw your jacket on the coat rack - or was that Peter? Who gives a shit. You were on a mission. You sauntered straight up to Wade, no greeting or preamble, and tossed your arm around his shoulders, setting your ass down right in his lap.

"Oh, hell yeah! There's my sugar ass-" Wade grinned at you, and you just rolled your eyes and planted a big kiss on his bald forehead. Thank god, he'd stopped wearing that dumbass hair. It made him look like a social studies teacher. And not a good one - like one of the ones that just took the job so that he could coach the JV boy's soccer team, and he's not even very good at that. Anyway.

Wade wrapped an arm around you, and you adjusted yourself on his lap, hazarding a glance over at the man sitting next to him. His eyes flit from Wade to you, then to Wade again, brow scrunched a little closer together than when you'd first seen him.

"Wolvie, meet my little discord kitten. And you-" he broke the fourth wall, just to look you straight in the eyes. "This, is the big bad wolf. Er-ine. Yeah. Yeah, that works."

"Wade," you replied, trying not to think about the fact that he just looked into your eyes like you were a camera on the Office. "You never told me you were bringing home a third. I would have brought the nice strap."

The man - Wolvie? Wolverine? Whatever - choked on his beer, and shot Wade a confused, accusatory glare.

"What about the-"

Wolvie gestured in the direction of Vanessa, and Wade's eyes widened, his mouth actually fell open. And this time, it wasn't fake or sarcastic shock, but actual, genuine emotion.

"Oh, no no no - that metal skull of yours really is dense, isn't it, peanut?" He knocked on Wolvie's forehead with way more force than he would use on any normal human, and the man batted Wade's hand away like a pissy tom cat, lip curled over his teeth in a growl.

That was. Hot. Ok.

Wade continued talking anyway - as he always did.

"No, Vanessa? Lovely lady, don't get me wrong - but that ship sailed loooong ago, my temporally-challenged friend," Wade sighed, squeezing the arm that was around your shoulder. "No - that relationship was, as the kids say - 'lacking in communication and emotional openness' - oh, and she made me feel like chicken shit for not being a superhero!"

"Babe, you did that to yourself," you shook your head at him. Really - Vanessa and Wade had just grown apart. She'd looked into more gainful employment, and Wade had followed, struggling to integrate into whatever the fuck "proper" society was. What really happened was that Wade blamed himself for her death and tied way too much of his self-worth to their relationship. And Vanessa - well, she just didn't feel safe with him anymore. It wasn't her fault; it was the PTSD. But it still hurt him. It was better for the both of them to part ways. You always knew Wade still held a torch for her, but you didn't mind much in a relationship sense. You were polyamorous - your man loving multiple people didn't bother you. What did matter was the fact that for Wade's mental health - or what little of it remained - he shouldn't be trying to get with that woman again.

"Yeah! I know! I was getting to that - shh," he pressed a finger to your lips and you kissed it, which made him go "aww" before returning to his rambling. "Anyway, while I was on this beautiful journey of self-discovery, I realized so many things, buttercup."

He sighed, cupping your cheek. "The Avengers are absolute booty ass - without their mainstay former drug addict, I'm afraid they lost out on the crowd of little white girls that want to fuck older men, and we all know that demographic is vital to the longevity of a franchise. Furthermore, the Honda Odyssey fucks hard, which means I have to re-examine my vehicle-related inherent biases. Oh, and also - I'm not a hero. Can't pretend to be some kind of 'normie.' So I'd rather be a freak with the rest of the rejects."

Wade gestured to the rest of the party, and your grin widened, arms wrapping tight around his neck and pulling him in for a stupid, sloppy kiss. God, that's what you'd been trying to tell him for goddamn ages. Thank fuck, the whole multiverse just had to be threatened for him to realize it. You should have expected it - that's just kind of how men are.

Wolverine cleared his throat, and you pulled away, patting Wade on the chest. The older man looked at the both of you with trepidation, like he might be interrupting something. Your heart skipped a little - he really did like Wade, didn't he? Well -

"That's great, baby," you patted Wade's cheek. "Glad you had to experience whatever is closest to death for you to realize what's really important. That's so incredibly healthy and absolutely viable in the long-term."

Wolvie chuckled, grinning at both you and your boyfriend. Oh no - not only was he hot, he was pretty. That stupid little cat ear hair wasn't helping, especially not when he was laughing at your joke.

You took the opportunity to raise your leg just enough to brush your calf along the inside of his knee, and his eyes immediately flicked to yours, smile faltering as he calculated whether to lean into it or shy away.

"Thank you, I so appreciate you, baby-boo-" Wade nuzzles his nose against your cheek and you giggled, biting your lip to quell your laugh as you tried to watch both boys. "But if I remember correctly, before we went on this plot-hole addressing rant, you said something about the good strap?"

He waggled his hairless brows, and your gaze flicked between the two of them again - Wade, eager and grinning; Wolvie, tense and most certainly blushing.

"Yeah," you sighed dramatically, waving your hand in the direction of the refreshments table. "Unfortunately, the food at this party isn't bottom friendly. Shame."

"Fuck!" Wade cursed, head snapping forward in frustration. "I knew Peter forgot something! That insensitive metrosexual!"

You snorted, shook your head as your gaze pulled to Wolverine, you dragged your leg just a little higher.

"Oh, don't worry about it. If your friend here wants, we could recreate your favorite Lonely Island music video."

Said friend's brow knit, his jaw clenched as he tilted his head ever so slightly to the side, as if you'd translate your Wade-speak for him.

Thankfully, your boyfriend did it for you, with an exaggerated gasp for comedic effect.

"3-Way (The Golden Rule) (Featuring Lady Gaga & Justin Timberlake)?" He cried, leaning over so that he could smush his face closer to yours. You waggled your eyebrows suggestively.

He all but squealed, kicking his feet to the point where he almost launched you straight out of his lap.

"You hear that, Logan-boy? It won't even be gay - with a honey in the middle there's some leeway," he gestured to you dramatically, jazz-hands and all.

"It might be a little gay," you whispered in Wolvie - Logan's? - direction.

Either way, it seemed like something one of you said made the poor man short-circuit. He was just looking at the two of you like Wade was regrowing a baby head.

"It is, like, a genuine offer," you clarified for him. "We're not fucking with you - well. Wade's always fucking around."

"Oh, but I am so serious about this, babygirl. Wanna find out if that 207th bone is also adamantine, let me tell you-"

"Shut your whore mouth," Logan hissed at Wade, and you heard the man's teeth click as Wade's jaw snapped shut. What?

"Hey, did he just listen to you when you told him to shut up?"

Logan raised an eyebrow, but gave you a curt nod as answer. Your head whipped from one man to the other.

"You two definitely fucked already!"

"Oh-"

"What did he tell you?" You cut in, finger raised as Wade tried to speak. His eyes widened, and his lips closed like he had no control over them. Your jaw fell open. You turned to Logan like he was some kind of evil sex magician. Which - maybe he was. Or maybe that was a different man from the same movie that no one knows how to write because someone actually gave him an accurate accent. How would you know?

"We didn't fuck," Logan clarified. "We fought. Hard."

"It was the only way around the Hays Code censor!" Wade cut in, words spilling out like he only had a few seconds before Logan shot him another look that had his mouth shutting and his pants tightening.

You rolled your eyes. "Sweetie, the Hays Code was abolished in 1968," you patted his cheek like you were talking to a child.

"Tell that to the mouse!"

"Well," you did your best to get this trainwreck back on track. "Anyway. What do you think, hmm?"

You directed your question at Logan-Wolvie-Wolverine. It was so hard to learn somebody's actual name when Wade just threw nicknames out like candy.

But still, the man frowned, lips pursed as he considered the proposition. His lips twitches as he swirled the bottle of beer in his hand, like he could find the answers in the foam that swelled there. He shook his head, then took a sip, smacking an "ah" before the bottle hit the table with a thump.

"Eh. What the hell."

Oh. Fuck. Yes.

[justacynicalromantic]

Elon Musk was forced to reveal who financed his purchase of Twitter. Amongst owners are two Russian oligarchs close to Putin and sanctioned over the Russian invasion of Ukraine: Petr Aven and Vadim Moshkovich.

Petr Aven is a Russian billionaire, founder of Alfa Group, which is one of the main wallets for Putin. Aven also attended a meeting with Putin on February 24, 2022 to mark the start of the invasion of Ukraine.

Vadim Moshkovich owns Russia's largest agricultural holding Rusagro. Naturally, he also attended the meeting with Putin on February 24, 2022 and, like Aven, did not protest against Russia's invasion of Ukraine.

[creature-wizard]

Is the spiritual person a conspiracy theorist? A list of red flags

They talk about a shadowy group of people supposedly manipulating everything behind the scenes. They might refer to them by terms such as globalists, bankers, international bankers, secret rulers of the world, the elite, the cabal, Kabbalists, Talmudists, satanists, satanic pedophiles, pedophiles, generational satanists, satanic bloodlines, the Illuminati, the Babylonian Brotherhood, lizard people, Reptilians, Orions, regressives, regressive entities, Khazarians, Marxists, cultural Marxists, or leftists. Sometimes, very rarely, they'll just come right out and say "Jews."

They claim that the conspiracy has been working to conceal historical and spiritual truths from humanity.

They claim that the conspiracy uses stuff like food, entertainment, and medicine to control the masses. For example, "additives in food suppress our psychic abilities" or "Hollywood films contain subliminal messages" or "COVID vaccines were actually created to alter your DNA to make you more docile."

Also, claims that the conspiracy controls people via spiritual or technological implants, 5G, or alter programming, with or without explicit mention of Project Monarch (a conspiracy theory promoted by far right cranks such as Mark Philips and Fritz Springmeier, who used hypnosis to respectively convince Cathy O'Brien and Cisco Wheeler that they'd been put under mind control by a global satanic conspiracy).

They claim that this conspiracy is controlling the media, has fingers in every institution they disagree with, and is generally behind everything they disagree with. (EG, the conspiracy created the Catholic Church; that other New Ager they disagree with is actually controlled opposition, etc.)

They claim that the conspiracy is trying to keep people in fear.

They claim that the conspiracy harvests something from people. Blood and adrenochrome are common ones. Loosh is somewhat less common. Expect to see something else pop up eventually.

They claim that the conspiracy practices genetic engineering; EG, creating animal/human hybrids, using vaccines to genetically sever people's connection to God, etc.

They claim that true spiritual wisdom can be traced back to places like Atlantis, Lemuria, or Mu.

They claim that world governments have secretly been in contact with extraterrestrials for years.

They appeal to known frauds and cranks, including but not limited to Erich Von Daniken, Zechariah Sitchin, David Icke, David Wilcock, Graham Hancock, Jaime Maussan, Bob Lazar, Steven Greer, Richard C. Hoagland, Fritz Springmeier, and Drunvalo Melchizedek.

Appeals to forged documents, including but not limited to the alleged diary of Admiral Richard Byrd, The Emerald Tablets of Thoth the Atlantean, and The Urantia Book.

Appeals to channeled information, such as that provided by Edgar Cayce, Carla Rueckert, or George Van Tassel.

"But all of this has to come from somewhere, doesn't it?"

Oh, it all comes from somewhere, all right, but the where isn't what most people imagine.

A lot of the stuff above is just a modern spin on the content of The Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion, a Russian hoax created to justify violence against Russian Jews. The Protocols itself was plagiarized from a political satire and incorporated a lot of the post-French Revolution conspiracy theories about Freemasons and Jews being behind the French Revolution. I wrote a summary of the conspiracy tropes found in The Protocols over here.

The stuff about Satanic sacrifices and the consumption of blood, adrenochrome, loosh, or whatever are simply just variations on blood libel, an antisemitic conspiracy theory that claims Jews practice ritual cannibalism. Blood libel can be traced back to ancient Greece. (With the Greek version, I really can't help but notice the similarity to modern urban legends of gangsters kidnapping random people for initiation rituals.)

Many of these tropes can also be linked back to the early modern witch hunts. It was believed that witches sacrificed babies to Satan, practiced cannibalism, and put people under mind control by way of diabolical magic. It was also believed that some witches didn't even know they were witches; they'd go off to attend the Devil's Sabbath at night and come back in the morning without remembering a thing. In the late 20th century, this witch hunter's canard would be reinvented as the alter programming conspiracy theory when media such as the 1973 book Sibyl and its 1976 television adaptation put DID (note: the woman who inspired Sibyl did not have DID) into the public consciousness. For a more complete list of witch panic and blood libel tropes, I wrote a list over here.

Lemuria was a hypothetical landmass proposed to explain the presence of lemur fossils in Madagascar and India while being absent in continental Africa and the rest of Asia, because if lemurs evolved naturally, they wouldn't be in two separate places with no connection to each other. The discovery that India and Madagascar were once connected not only made the hypothesis obsolete, it precludes the existence of Lemuria.

The whole notion of Mu began with a horrendous mistranslation of the Troano manuscript. A man named Augustus Le Plongeon would link the mistranslation with the story of Atlantis, and use it to claim that Atlantis actually existed in the Americas. (For Plongeon, Mu and Atlantis were one and the same.) And then other people (like James Churchward) got their hands on the whole Mu thing, and put their own spins on it, and the rest is history.

Le Plongeon's ideas influence modern Atlantis mythology today; EG, the idea that it was in the Americas. Another guy who helped shape the modern Atlantis myth was Ignatius L. Donnelly, an American politician. Dude claimed that Atlanteans spread their oh-so-superior culture far and wide. He also claimed that Atlantis was the home of the Aryan people, because of course he did.

The idea that all of the world's wisdom can be traced back to Thoth/Hermes goes back to Hermeticism, a product of Greco-Egyptian syncretism. Hermeticism produced a fascinating body of mythology and an interesting way to consider the divine and its role in shaping human history, but that doesn't mean it was right. And the Emerald Tablets of Thoth the Atlantean is a modern text that has fuck-all to do with ancient Hermeticism and more to do with HP Lovecraft.

This idea that the conspiracy uses pharmaceutical drugs and vaccines for evil also has roots in Nazi Germany. The Nazi government, wanting to reserve real medicine for their soldiers, told the general populace that said medicine was the product of evil Jewish science and prescribed alternative healing modalities instead. (Said alternative healing modalities did not particularly work.) It also echoes the old conspiracy theories about Jews spreading the Black Death by poisoning wells.

The idea that the conspiracy uses genetic manipulation to create subhuman beings or sever humanity from the divine is a permutation of the Nazi conspiracy theory that Jews are trying to destroy the white race through race mixing. The idea of evil reptilian DNA goes back to the ancient serpent seed doctrine, which is indeed old, but no less pure hateful nonsense for it.

"But there's got to be somebody up to something rotten out there!"

Oh sure. But these people aren't skulking around in the shadows. They're acting pretty openly.

The Heritage Foundation has been working to push this country into Christofascism since the early 1970's. They're the ones responsible for the rise of the Moral Majority and the election of Ronald Reagan. They're also the ones behind Project 2025, which intends to bring us deeper into Christofascism. (Among many other horrible things, they intend to outlaw trans people as "pornographic.")

The Seven Mountains Mandate is another movement pushing for Christofascism. They intend to seize the "seven spheres" of society, which include education, religion, family, business, government/military, arts/entertainment, and media.

There's also the ghoulish American Evangelicals who support Israel because they think that current events are going to bring about the Second Coming of Jesus and cement the formation of a global Christofascist empire. Don't let their apparent support of Jews fool you - they believe that the good Jews will become Christians and the bad ones will go to hell.

All of these people are working toward monstrously horrific goals, but none of them are part of an ancient megaconspiracy. In fact, these are the kinds of people pushing the myth of the ancient megaconspiracy. From the witch hunts to Nazi Germany to the American Evangelical movement, if history has taught us anything, the people pushing the conspiracy theories are always the bad guys.

[jiinxswife]

Jinx’s toxic traits x fem!Reader

Trigger warnings:manipulation, suicide, light smut, stalking, obsessed behavior. Really really short.

•stalks you 100% of the time, if you have a weaker/not really good for fighting physical, expect her to follow you EVERYWHERE. To always have a shadow disappearing when you look behind

•tells that you can’t survive zaun without her

•threatens to lull herself if you ever mention a breakup.

•chases down your exes, both to make sure they stay away from you but also to learn with them.

•fucks you with huge straps so you’re “ruined” to every other man

•leaves you marks everywhere with anything she can. Will bite, scratch, suck you

•has fucked you with her gun at least once

•Russian roulette with you, her and someone that she’s jealous of! The gun is unloaded but you don’t have to know that until she makes you understand

•tries to get you to tattoo her name on your body

•kills people (mostly your exes or people who makes her feel threatened) in your name

•”I killed him for you! To be with you!! Are you really going to break up with me?? His death will be meaningless if you do!”

•steals gifts to you

•makes her injuries worse to get you to pay extra attention on her

•sometimes, tries to make you “in pain” (hiding your cramps or headache medicine) just so you will cling on her to comfort

•pushes your family and friends away. How can you leave her when she’s all you got?

•super duper protective over you, principally when Vi chooses Caitlyn over her. Her own sister, own blood chose someone else over her, she can’t give you the chance to do the same.

•tries to make you physically “weaker” so you cannot survive without her. Without friends or family and ability to fight, you’d die in zaun without her

•jinx from season one at least would buy you one of these

•holds you tightly at night

•never fully sleeps, she needs to make sure you won’t run away

Really short because idk what to write. I’m not having the motivation lately

[ironwinters]

Winter's Mark

A gift everyone received at the age of sixteen, their soulmark. the writing of the person destined to be with them, the first sentence they ever would speak to one another etched into their skin for eternity. Everyone had one. Even the Winter Soldier.

tags: violence, dark!bucky, winter soldier!bucky, agent!reader, hurt, pain, mentions of death

Prologue: First Meeting

Your heart felt as if it were about to beat out of your chest as you took the stairs two at a time, gasping as you heard the steel door to the stairwell slam open, the sound of metal snapping as the door was broken from its hinges from the sheer force used. 

So this was it. This was the end.

You screamed as you felt a hand wrap around your ankle, yanking you down, your body rolling down the stairs until you landed with a heavy thud on the landing. Your head pounded as you tried to focus your vision, attempting to get up, just to receive a sharp kick to your side. You tried again, the air leaving your lungs as his foot made contact with your ribs, forcing you back down again, a sharp cry of pain escaping your lips. 

There he was, standing over you with his gun pressed to the center of your forehead, his eyes a nothing but a blank void. 

“Please, no, please…” you trail off, trying to plead for your life despite knowing there was no use. The reputation of the Winter Soldier precedes him, you knew who was after you the second you saw the arm, the shoulder length hair, the mask covering his nose and mouth. 

You watch as the soldier’s eyes widen in what appears to be shock after you spoke. In a flash, his hand not holding the gun reaches up, yanking the mask off the lower half of his face.

“что вы сказали?” he mutters, voice husky, eyebrows slightly creasing.

Russian, you knew. Those words…

No. Nonononono, It cant be. Can it? Your soulmate? Your killer? All wrapped up into one body. 

That would be your luck, though.

“What did you say?” You translate back to him, asking the same question. 

He looks at you cryptically for a moment. 

“Your mark. Show.” He demands, voice void of emotion. 

Your hand shakily reaches up from the floor to grasp the fabric of your shirt, pulling it up slightly to show the words etched onto your hip in need script. 

The words he had just spoken.

His eyes zero in on the words, running over them again and again. This lasts for what feels like a century. Then, the gun slowly leaves its position against your forehead. He puts the safety on, returning it to the holster on his hip, then offers you his hand. 

“What?” You ask softly, still on edge and confused. 

“Up. We must go, now” He demands, making the decision for you as he reaches down, grabbing your hand and yanking you upright. 

He wanted to take you back with him? Who knows what HYDRA would do with you, an agent known to work closely with the avengers. You didn’t want to find out. 

“No!” You cry, fighting against his strong, unrelenting hold. 

“Shhh, it’s okay,” His monotone voice attempts to soothe you. 

“I dont want to go to HYDRA, just kill me here and now,” You spit out, finally yanking away from his hold. 

“We must run, they’ll be here soon,” He explains, “Please, we must go.”

“What?” You stutter out, confused. 

He grumbles before grabbing you, scooping you up against his chest as he runs down the flight of stairs, out an emergency exit, and into the cover of nightfall. 

divider by the lovely @cafekitsune

[aerynwrites]

Sacrifices

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader x John "Soap" MacTavish

A/N: sorry for posting a day late. Been busy with holiday things, work and school. Hope you enjoy! and if you do please consider leaving a comment or reblog! even if you just scream into the tags i really really do love reading your all's thoughts - incoherent or not haha. Word Count: 3k Warnings: Canon typical Violence, (attempted) self sacrifice, mentions of grenade based injuries, description of gore/injury, angst, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, soft/fluff towards the end. Summary: The team is on a mission and quickly becoming overwhelmed. In the middle of a push through enemy lines, reader is the only one who notices the grenade that was thrown. She acts to save the men she loves.

The firefight has been constant it seems like, your entire group pinned down between sandbags and barricades and royally pissed off Russian soldiers. infiltration has been slow - almost nonexistent, your group moving forward only a few feet at a time, rushing from one barely there cover to the next. 

Your comms erupt with staticky calls of enemy movement before abruptly clicking off as gunfire takes its place.  Shouts from Price and Ghost trying to get air support and medical and god knows what else, just anything to help you all.

The mission has gone to shit. Gone from infiltrate and extract to a fight for your lives.

“Sunny, you with me?” 

Gaz’s voice fills your ears, your callsign pulling you from your own mind as you move to click the button to respond. 

“Repeat.”

“I see an opening,” Gaz says again, and you look over at him from where he sits several feet away from you, behind a concrete barrier matching your own. 

He gestures with his hands towards some cover a few yards up, and after a quick glance and no small calculations of your own, you think it might work.  Ghost and Soap are already there, having made the move ages ago but leaving you and Gaz unable to join them.  

If you can all get together, you might stand a chance at rushing the remaining enemies, pushing your way into the base and…

You nod.

“I’ll cover you,” Gaz says, “Then you three will cover me.”

“Got it,” you say, voice buzzing in your own ears. “As good a plan as any, at this rate.”

An all to familiar rough baritone fills your ears, and you have to fight back the smile twitching at your lips. 

“If ya quit your yapping,” Ghost says, voice firm, “You’d both be ‘ere by now.”

“On my mark…” Gaz says.

And then he’s calling out, a storm of bullets raining down as you sprint towards your team mates. the noise is deafening yet despite it all, it’s like you can hear everything. 

The beat of your heart in your chest. Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

The blood rushing in your ears, the sounds of your rubber soled boots hitting the cracked concrete. 

Thump, thump

The rush of air in and out of your lungs.

Thump, thump.

The all too familiar gentle jingle of a grenade pin. 

Thump, thump,

Two more breaths. Too long, you think. 

Thump, thump.

The sound of metal clattering against concrete. 

Thump. Thump.

No one’s seen it, the rattle of gunfire too loud, their focus too drawn in by the enemy. 

Thump, Thump.

It’s close to Soap and Ghost, just behind them - too close-

“Grenade!”

Your voice is barely audible over the chaos, the sound that your heartbeat was drowning out crashing over you all at once as you throw the entirety of your body weight forward. Soap had heard you just as your fingers dig their way under the straps of his tac vest, shoving him forward and down, right on top of your startled lieutenant who sees what you’re doing much to late to change the course of events. 

“Sunny, no-!”

Soap collides with Ghost - bodies toppling onto crumbling concrete, unable to keep their feet underneath them as you fall on top of them. You wrap your arms around Soap as the grenade explodes, tucking your head into the crook of his neck as you try your damndest to shield him and Ghost from it. 

It happens fast - faster than you’d ever imagined something like this happening - faster than your sprint over here. There’s a flash of light, burning heat, shouts cut off by a deafening blast as searing pain shoot through you.

Metal on your tongue.

More gunfire. 

You think your comms are going off but your head feels like its spitting open, ears ringing and you feel like your burning and freezing all at once. Teeth chattering and adding to that blasted ringing in your ears-

“-get out of there now!”

That you hear, along with the warnings of in coming air support. 

Instinctively you go to move, but pain blinds you, ripping a scream from your throat as pain shoots from your side up to your arm and down to your very toes. 

Soap is above you then, eyes panicked as he looks from you down your body then back up at Ghost.

“Lt! What the bleedin’ hell are we doin’!” He yells, fighting to be heard over the gunfire. 

You take this moment to look around, chest heaving as you struggle to breath, mind desperately searching for context. 

Ghost is up again, gun pointed over the concrete barrier as he continues to lay cover fire. You’re vaguely aware of Gaz just behind you, yelling into his comms about a man down and needing medical immediately and ‘we have to move!’

Your eyes then fall down to assess yourself, only to feel complete and utter fear pin you to the ground beneath you. Your side - the little exposed below your tac vest, your hip and your leg-

You have to look away to fight the vomit fighting its way up your throat. It’s a bloody mess - literally.nSoaps hands are covered in the viscous liquid as he put pressure on the gaping wounds, trying to stem the blood pouring from your leg.  You think you saw bone-

Black seeps in at the corners of your vision and you are only kept from the creeping darkness by a warm hand on your face as Soap’s own appears above you, and - why is it wet?

“Hey! Hey lass, none of tha’ now-” he gently taps your cheek. “Now why did you go ‘an do something right stupid like that?” He asks, trying to force that teasing lilt into his words but failing as the panic overrides it. 

Your mind is turning to mush, tongue heavy in your mouth as that coldness from earlier starts to slowly creep forward, starting at your fingers and moving ever upwards. 

“Do…do what?” You ask, fighting against chattering teeth.

Ghost turns then, speaking between breaks of gunfire as the telltale sounds of jets appear in the distance. 

“Use yourself as a fucking human shield is what!” He bellows, and even in your delirious state you can see the wrath in his eyes as he shoulders his gun once again, pointing at Soap. “Get her up, we have to move now!  Or whatever heroic bloody deed she was trying to commit will be for nothing-”

Gaz speaks now, glancing from you to Ghost.

“Lt. I don’t think she’ll-”

Ghost lunges forward then, gripping Gaz’s vest in his hands so tight you’re worried. 

“Don’t finish that sentence, Garrick,” Ghost bites. “No man left behind. Ever. Now move!”

Soap barely has time to mutter an apology before he tying something around your leg and yanking you up from the ground. 

The pain is all consuming. You think you scream but can feel it being cut off as something wet comes up on a cough. That all too familiar metal taste flooding your tongue.

It hits you then, with the taste of blood in your mouth and the tunnel vision closing in..

You’re dying. 

The world shudders around you as Soap runs full speed with your team, trying in vain to keep you as steady as possible as Ghost and Gaz lay cover fire for your retreat. 

Your head lolls backward, knocking against Johnny’s arm with every step, and you just manage to see the vapor trails of fighter jets above you, the white wispy clouds left behind giving you an odd sense of comfort in this moment. 

Johnny looks down at you as the earth shakes beneath his boots and he barely even stumbles. 

He always was the most agile of you all, Ghost the strongest - both of them protective. Even now you can feel Johnny’s arms tighten around you, can hear Ghost’s commanding shouts- although you can’t make out what he says. 

You’re too far gone for that.

Your fingers grip weakly at the various pockets and straps of Johnny’s tac vest as he starts to slow to a stop. You’re in the forest now, the towering tops of the trees creating a vast circle in your ever narrowing vision. A clearing? 

Wow...the sky is pretty too. A very faint pinkish hue dusting the sky behind the fluffy clouds. It must be approaching evening, the sun moving to sink below the horizon…

Night time…sleep sounds really good right about now. You’ve been fighting it -  the pain being your main focus, but now it’s all you want to do. Even the pain is starting to fade-

“No, no - “ another tap to your cheek and your eyes flutter open weakly. 

Johnny’s face is above you again, and you realize he’s kneeled down on the ground again, your legs outstretched in front of you as Gaz works quickly to try and do something about your injuries. 

Ghost is there too, and he’s no longer shouting, just breathing hard into his mask as he gazes down at you - that earlier anger replaced by…is that worry? Concern…fear?

“I must…” you trail off,breathing a herculean task. “I must be pretty…pretty bad if you’re scared, Simon.”

Ghost flinches at the use of his real name. It was an unspoken rule to never use it in the field. Never use it outside of you and him and Johnny together. Never use it unless if was just you three or in more intimate moments. 

Yeah. Simon is fucking terrified. Feels like his heart is about to plummet into the dirt. Feels like his whole world is crumbling down around him-

“Why did you do that?” He finally asks, voice losing its rough edge as he reaches up to wipe at something on your cheek. Probably blood. “Why?”

You smile then. Despite everything, you smile. 

“Couldn’t…” another wheezing breath in, “Couldn’t let them get…my boys.”

Soap breaks then, a broken sound ripping from his chest as he reaches up with his free hand to grip onto one of your own, bringing it up to press chapped lips to bloodied knuckles. 

You can’t feel the tears when they fall onto your skin, but you see the tracks they leave in the crimson stains. Follow them as they slide from the valley of your fingers over the back of your hand before disappearing beneath the sleeves of your uniform. 

“Don’t cry,” you whisper, before choking on another cough. 

The wind picks up now, and you can see the tree branches quiver violently. 

“Evac’s here!” Gaz calls, and you can see the hope that sparks in their eyes as the blades of the helicopter come into view. 

Soap looks down again, another kiss to you knuckles before he’s moving taking you into his arms as he stands. 

It doesn’t hurt at all this time. 

“They’re ‘ere, bonnie,” he says, voice cracking. “Gonna fix you right up-”

You don’t hear the rest.

The thrum of helicopter blades drown him out and then, just as you see a team of medics jump from the interior, darkness finally consumes you. 

At least they’re safe.

It was all worth it. Just for that.

———

Waking up is like trying to wade through knee deep snow. It takes all of your energy, and every moment feels like an eternity with little to no progress. But you keep pushing, snippets of voices and small sounds urging you forward. 

Two voices in particular. Familiar. Warm. Scared. 

“I never thought I’d be the one by your bedside.” Ghost. “A bloody idiot you are. But our idiot, so don’t,” is he crying? “Don’t you fucking die on me.”

You hear Johnny next, it’s the only other voice your brain seems to register in this thick fog of unconsciousness. Along with the feather light brush of fingers in your own.

“Still cannae believe ya did it,” you can’t find it in you to be sorry. “Please, wake up lass…please.”

You eventually do - Wake up that is. 

And what a bloody nightmare it is. Blinding lights, the deafening beeping of a monitor in your ear, people shouting but only two of them are familiar, fighting to stay in the chaotic room as Doctors rush about an shine lights in your eyes and ask you all kinds of questions and then-

It’s over. 

It’s over and you have a flimsy plastic cup of water being shoved into your hands and fingers carding through your hair and lips pressed against your temple before two sets of eyes fix on you. One chocolate brown and the other a piercing blue as they look at you expectantly.

It’s a stand off for longer than you anticipated. Neither Johnny nor Simon speaking and you trying to catch up with how fast your brain is moving. Eventually you move to speak after taking another sip of water, a few drops slipping past your lips as your hands shake slightly. 

“I’m not going to apologize, if that’s what you’re waiting for.”

Simon throws his hands up, a scoff slipping passed his masked lips, the sound muffled by the black surgical mask adorning his face. 

“Of course that’s the first bloody thing you say-”

“Well I’m not!” You argue, frustration bubbling up in your chest as the heart monitor slowly speeds up. 

Johnny tries to step in. “Lass, we dinnae expect an apology-”

Simon cuts him off.

“Speak for yourself,” he steps closer to the side of the bed, gripping the side-rail in a white knuckled grip. “Do you have any idea how stupid that was? Throwing yourself in front of us like that?”

You have to fight back the tears you feel burning at the back of your eyes. Anger, frustration, guilt all bubbling together in your chest in a confusing mix of emotions. 

Why is he giving you the third degree? 

“It’s not like I planned it Simon, I didn’t think-”

“You’re fucking right you didn’t think!” Simon roars, voice reverberating off the walls of the small hospital room. 

Johnny reaches out then, hand firm on Simon’s shoulder as he tries to pull him away from you. “Simon, that’s enough-!”

He shoves his hand away, turning to pin the sergeant with a fiery gaze before turning his attention back to you. 

“No Johnny,” he bites before addressing you again. “Did you know you died?” 

The words shock you, making you physically flinch back into the bed as Simons stares you down. And it’s in this suffocating silence that his statement brought on that you finally see it. The fear in his eyes. The fear that wavers just beneath the watery lash line of the eyes you’ve come to find solace in. 

You shake your head softly. 

“I…I died?”

Johnny nods, sniffling softly before swiping a hand down his face. 

“For five minutes,” He says softly, finally moving to sink into one of the chairs by your bed. 

“You died,” Simon repeats, voice having lost its angry edge. “And you could’ve stayed dead. Then you would’ve been six feet under with nothin’ but a fucking medal an’ a picture on the wall and-” he chokes. “And where would we be? Where would we be without you?”

Johnny takes your hand in his own - the familiar calloused warmth soothing to your battered mind and body. You close your eyes for a moment, breathing in and out in measured beats as you try to digest this information. You’re only brought out of it when another hand takes your free one - this one also familiar in a slightly different way. 

It reminds you of why you did it in the first place. You love them. Both of them in their own unique way. Johnny is big and all consuming and loud and boisterous but gentile and just slightly soft around the edges when he needs to be. His hands are calloused and warm but smoother on the palms. 

Simon is…he’s somewhat opposite. He’s quiet and reserved and frankly quite intimidating on the outside. His words are few but meaningful. He’s large and imposing and can scare the living daylights out of someone when he wants but when he’s with you and Johnny…he’s different. He’s all gentle words and soft touches - as if you’re made of fine porcelain and he’s the bull in the china shop. His hands are cooler than Johnny’s but still soft in places and still just as comforting. 

“I love you,” you finally whisper, eyes peeling open to look at the men by your sides. 

“I…I can’t apologize because I love you,” you explain. “And if I had to do it all over again, I would. It was just…instinct.”

They’re both silent for a moment, your words sinking in until Simon lets out a rather uncharacteristic sniffle. He tugs down his mask, pressing his thumb and forefinger into his eyes before bringing your hand up to his lips, pressing a feather light kiss to your knuckles. 

“Yeah, well…” his voice is thick with emotion. “Leave the sacrificin’ to us in the future, okay love?”

He doesn’t say much more, never being one to talk much about how he feels, but you understand what was left unsaid. And so does Johnny, apparently voicing what your shared partner can’t.

“He’s right, lass,” he agrees, lips tugging up in the smile you’ve come to adore. “We just got somethin’ good. Too good for the likes of us. Cannae go losin’ it now.”

You send both of them a smile of your own, but it’s damped by the tears that finally spill over. Not sad ones necessarily, but tears created out of love and pure adoration for the men before you. 

The tears don’t make it far before Simon is reaching out, cradling your face in his hands, thumbs wiping them away before pulling his mask down just enough to press his lips to your own. You return the gesture, squeezing his hand when he pulls away. 

You then tug Johnny towards you, sniffling before giving him a quick kiss as well when he leans in. Then before you can move two sets of arms are wrapped around you, careful of your wounds but holding onto you fiercely. Whispered ‘I love you’s’ are murmured into your skin, fingers carding through you hair as you all finally relish in each other’s presence. 

For now you were all alive - alive and able to hold one another. 

And that would just have to be good enough.