#s writes stuff

[wellsayhelloaagin]

Enchant- Beckon Part Five

Summary: Wanda struggles with her growing feelings and the fear that they may ruin everything.

Pairing: Wanda x Natasha x f!reader

Genre: Smut (top!reader, switch!Natasha, bottom!Wanda)

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: fingering, oral, voyeurism, exhibitionism, threesome, dirty talk, swearing, light angst

AN: I've risen from the depths of hell to bring you this (short) update. I do have a plan for the next part (you may not like it) so hopefully I can get that written somewhat soon.

If someone had told Wanda a month ago that waking up in bed sandwiched between you and Natasha would become a regular occurrence, she would have laughed in their face.

Yet, that’s exactly what happened. 

After the morning spent making pancakes, Wanda had begun to spend more time with the couple next door. She would invite the two of you over once or twice a week, cooking dinner before the three of you would inevitably end up losing your clothes and falling into a heap on the nearest surface.

Weekends were quickly becoming Wanda’s favourite thing. She would walk the path to your doorstep each Friday night and normally wouldn’t resurface until Monday morning. And while the sex was incredible, she was also enjoying the chance to get to know you and Natasha better.

She learnt more about your relationship with the redhead, about how you both met and the beginning of your romance. Wanda learnt about the two of you as individuals as well, the things you liked and disliked. Every new piece of information was stored away in her brain, warmth blooming in her chest from the fact that you both trusted her enough to share yourselves with her.

Wanda knew she was developing feelings for both you and Natasha but she tried to ignore the fluttering of her heart whenever you smiled at her or whenever Natasha cupped her cheek. She wasn’t entirely sure if this agreement was more than just sex and she was too scared to mention anything, afraid that it could all disappear.

So instead, she kept her feelings to herself, content in enjoying whatever she could get.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Your voice draws Wanda’s mind back to the present, where she lay curled up in bed with her two favourite people. The sun was beginning to peek through the curtains, a warm orange hue bathing the room in a golden glow. She admired the way the light shone in your eyes, her stomach clenching again.

“Hmmm?” Wanda asks, stretching languidly. 

She was normally the last one to wake up, so it surprised her when she opened her eyes that morning to find you and Natasha both sleeping peacefully. 

“What’s got you looking so serious?” You ask, finger smoothing out the furrow between Wanda’s brow. “It’s too early to be thinking that hard.”

“It’s nothing,” Wanda dismisses you, enjoying your hand combing through her hair now. “Just work stuff.”

Wanda did feel bad for lying but she couldn’t risk bringing up her quickly growing feelings and ruining this one perfect thing she had.

“Sounds like your boss rides you too hard,” you smirk, looking over at your still-dozing girlfriend.

Wanda blushes, remembering just a few hours ago when Natasha had indeed been riding her pretty hard, her thighs sandwiched on either side of the brunette's head. 

“I don’t mind it so much,” Wanda returns playfully, fingers running down your bare arm and enjoying the goosebumps she left in her wake. 

“Is that so?” You counter, hand tightening slightly in Wanda’s hair to pull her face closer to yours. “I’ll have to remember that.”

Wanda just hums in agreement as you connect your lips together, the smooth feel of your lips under hers making her sigh. You don’t push too hard, content to kiss lazily for a few minutes as your hand slowly trails down Wanda’s side.

You smile into the kiss as you feel her shiver against you, Wanda’s hips starting to rock slightly as she seeks out friction. You hook your hand behind her knee, bringing her leg to rest over your hip and opening her up for you.

The three of you often slept naked together, usually falling asleep from exhaustion after bringing each other to release. Wanda was thankful for it now, just one less barrier for her to get what she wanted.

She feels your fingers dancing along her inner thigh, reaching higher until you find her centre. She’s already wet from your touch, your fingers gliding over her easily as you find her clit.

“Oh,” she gasps as you apply pressure, moving your fingers in slow circles.

She rocks her hips in time with your movements, panting into your mouth as you work her body expertly. She groans as you push two fingers into her, her ability to continue your kiss disappearing as you thrust into her in slow, even strokes. 

Her eyes are open, locked on yours as you bring her closer to the edge. She moans softly as you curl your fingers, captivated by your gaze. She can feel herself growing wetter, your fingers easily filling her as her orgasm builds.

“Isn’t this a lovely sight to wake up to?” Wanda hears the groggy voice from behind her, her only warning before Natasha begins to pepper kisses over her bare shoulders.

She feels an arm snake around her chest, lithe fingers dancing over one of her nipples. She arches her back, eyes closing as she succumbs to the pleasure filling her body. Her release washes over her quickly, her breath catching as you help her ride it out.

“Morning my love,” Wanda hears you greet Natasha, your fingers slowly leaving her body and pulling a whimper from her throat.

Natasha is still massaging her breast and Wanda turns her upper body to face her more. Her eyes open as your hand reaches over her, fingers that had just been inside Wanda now tracing Natasha’s lips.

Natasha opens her mouth, sucking the digits inside, her tongue cleaning Wanda’s release from your fingers. She hums happily and Wanda can already feel herself growing hot again at the sight.

She was so caught up on Natasha that she wasn’t prepared to feel your mouth latching onto her other nipple, the warm, wet feeling causing her to clench around nothing. 

“Oh, fuck,” she cries out without thinking, earning a chuckle from Natasha.

“That’s the idea, detka,” the redhead laughs, now grasping your hand between both of hers.

Wanda watches as Natasha guides your hand under the blanket, knowing when you had found your target by the breathy moan Natasha lets out. You shift slightly, never detaching from Wanda’s breast as you move to kneel over her. 

Wanda can see your hand moving under the blanket, transfixed by what must be happening underneath. Natasha is panting beside her, hand clutching your forearm tightly as she raises her hips to meet you.

Feeling brave, Wanda tugs the blanket aside and is rewarded by the sight of your thumb working over Natasha’s clit. She can’t see completely but judging by the way your hand surges forward, she gathers that your other fingers are buried inside your girlfriend.

You begin to trail your lips down Wanda’s torso now, teeth nipping along the way as you move your body down to hover over where she was dripping. Wanda is impressed that you managed to navigate your way down her body without losing your rhythm with Natasha.

The redhead is still moving her hips along with your thrusts, her moans growing in volume. Wanda reaches over, her fingers working over one of Natasha’s pebbled nipples as she palms her breast.

You catch Wanda off guard by licking along her dripping folds, her free hand flying to your hair as she arches into your mouth. You usually liked to tease her, working her up into a frenzy before putting your mouth where she wanted it most.

You waste no time today, your tongue already probing her entrance as you straddle one of Wanda’s legs. She can feel the heat from your sex, your arousal evident as you settle over her. She can feel the wet patch on her leg, the thought of you being turned on while eating her out causing the heat to pool low in her belly.

She shifts her leg, bending her knee and flexing her thigh underneath your centre. Wanda jolts as you moan against her, the vibrations shooting straight through her core. You begin to rock against her, never stopping your ministrations on either woman as the room is quickly filled with the sounds of pleasure and the smell of sweat and arousal.

Natasha folds first, her orgasm hitting her loudly as she holds onto your arm for dear life. Wanda can tell you’re getting close too, feeling your pace pick up as you rut against her leg, your tongue still buried deep inside her.

She wants to outlast you, wants to finally gain some kind of power over you in this dynamic she found herself in but she knows she won't last much longer. Especially now that you had another hand free, angling it under her hips and driving your tongue in deeper.

“That’s it, detka,” Wanda hears a sultry voice in her ear, Natasha curling her body to her side. “I bet it feels good with her tongue inside you doesn’t it?”

Wanda just whimpers in return, eyes clenching shut as she tries to hold off her impending orgasm.

“Shhhh,” Natasha continues, nose running over the column of Wanda’s throat. “It’s okay. You can cum if you want.”

Wanda just shakes her head, stubbornly trying to resist. Her hands are clenched tightly in the sheets as you eat her out.

“Being difficult, are we?” Natasha taunts, fingers pinching one of Wanda’s nipples. “That’s not fun.”

Wanda can feel Natasha pout against her neck before she bites down, sucking at the skin there as Wanda gasps in pleasure.

“Such a shame,” Natasha coos mockingly into Wanda’s ear again. “I really wanted to lick your cum from her chin.”

The image of what Natasha had described was enough to send Wanda over the edge, her thighs clamping over your ears as she cries out. Waves of pleasure wash over her, her voice feeling hoarse by the time she finally calms down.

You slide up her body, a satisfied smirk on your face as you take in Wanda’s mussed hair and glazed eyes. Her chest is still heaving, Natasha’s fingers still teasing her sensitive nipples as she jerks through the aftershocks. 

“A bit defiant today,” you taunt, gripping Wanda’s chin in your hand and forcing her to look at you. “I don’t know why you bother trying to compete with me sweetheart, you know I’ll always win.”

Wanda just nods dumbly, her mind too fuzzy to do anything else. She watches as you pull Natasha into a bruising kiss, the redhead licking Wanda’s cum off your chin as she had planned. 

Despite the two orgasms she had already had that morning, Wanda could already feel arousal stirring again.

“Come on,” you instruct, pinching Wanda’s cheek to get her attention. “If you’re good, I might let you finish me off in the shower.”

//

Wanda hums to herself as she towels her hair, walking down the hallway toward the kitchen. She had stayed in the shower a little longer, enjoying the warm water cascading over her aching muscles. You and Natasha had laughed at her, telling her not to turn into a prune and to join them for breakfast when she was done.

She had changed into a pair of your sweats and one of Natasha’s old shirts once she got out, enjoying the way they smelled like the two of you. Wanda liked the comfort they brought, planning to leave your house with them and claim them as her own for the nights she spent alone.

She could hear voices as she neared the kitchen, stopping just before the doorway to lean against the wall and bask in the simple domesticity of it all. She was sure she was falling hard and fast for the both of you but maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

Maybe you and Natasha felt the same way.

She moves to the doorway, hovering there as she watches the scene before her. 

Natasha is sitting on top of the counter, her legs swinging playfully as you twirl in front of her, a bowl of pancake batter in your hands. Natasha laughs at you, her eyes shining with adoration as her hand catches your outstretched arm, pulling you to stand between her legs.

You place the bowl down on the counter, hands resting atop Natasha’s thighs as she cups your face gently, her nose brushing over yours and making you giggle.

“I love you,” Natasha whispers but it’s loud enough for Wanda to hear from her position, her heart clenching painfully at the words.

“I love you too,” you reply as easy as breathing, leaning in to press your lips against Natasha’s in a sweet kiss. 

Wanda feels the pang again, realising it was jealousy coursing through her. She felt like she was intruding on a private moment, her chest constricting as she takes a step backwards, ready to leave the room. 

The movement catches your eye and you pull back, smiling at Wanda. She wonders if it was the same way you smiled at Natasha, an ice-cold feeling rushing through her veins.

“There you are,” you say brightly as Wanda forces a smile in return. “I was wondering if you were trying to use up all the hot water.”

Wanda just shrugs, walking awkwardly to sit on one of the stools on the other side of the counter. Her eyes are locked on the mixing bowl in front of her and she misses the look of concern shared between you and Natasha.

“Everything okay?” Natasha frowns, eyes searching yours for what to do.

Ten minutes ago, the two of you had left Wanda happy and laughing in the shower, a far cry from the woman in front of you now.

“Yeah, just tired I guess,” Wanda replies, shaking her head to try and clear the funk that had settled there.

She can tell by the look on your faces that neither of you believes her but you don’t push, instead taking a step away from Natasha and grabbing the mixing bowl again.

“I’m making pancakes, did you want some?” Your voice is soft and gentle and Wanda can feel the concern leaking through your words.

“Sounds great,” Wanda answers you. “I’ll cut the fruit.”

Wanda moves to the fridge, taking a deep breath as she searches for the strawberries inside. 

Maybe her feelings weren’t so harmless after all?

I no longer do taglists but you can follow my library blog and turn on notifications to get alerts when I post a new story @puppiesbrainsandbabieshearts

[velvetwyrme]

aHhh okay so the discussions of Titan!Megatron on @callsign-relic's blog have fully. FULLY taken over my brain and ive been drawing stuff for it for like the last few days nonstop

the tl;dr of this is AU is pretty much "what if Megatron got turned into a titan/cityformer as a form of penance/imprisonment and now roams the empty wasteland of Cybertron forever" plus "IDW Megatron has really fucked up internals so... what if that, but as a City?"

and of course since he's a Titan, that also means he has a cityspeaker... or three. One per sub-AU thing. Theres 3 options. 3 flavours of AU.

i have so much art to make. but in the meantime, for more info! check out the #titan au tag on Relic's blog :]!! (also uhh potential ns//fw warning for the link shfjbdkd)

Hi. My battery is running out once again so design and art notes get chucked here instead of an image.

The cuffs and collar are hardwired into Megatron, so I made the lights the same colour as his biolights!

I imagine that on the tops of his shoulders there are solar panels, even if you can't see them here lol.

I really wanted to keep the swirly bits on Megatron's chest from IDW

Other art notes:

The second picture with the seekers is (loosely) inspired by a discussion about whether or not Megatron gets visitors or not. I thought about who would visit him and well... I think this is as close as Starscream realistically gets to visiting him.

Extra detail about that piece is that Thundercracker and Skywarp are keeping watch from above! Also drawing Megatron took me like 8 hours because I was struggling with his legs really badly kshffkbfkdsbdk,, the background went much faster, funnily enough.

Optimus specifically isn't wearing his Autobot badge any more.

This isn't relevant in this series of images, but Ultra Magnus's eye markings are only on the Magnus armour. His other two forms do not have them :] (... until he begins to discard the armour, that is.)

Megatron is roughly 3200m/2 miles tall. Technically he could have clouds around his knees, but I thought this looked a little bit cooler lol.

Also, height chart! Him big. I didn't even attempt to put a human for scale because that'd be. near impossible with this scale.

[androgynealienfemme]

"I know what butch is. Butches are not beginner FTMs, except that sometimes they are, but it's not a continuum except when it is. Butch is not a trans identity unless the butch in question says it is, in which case it is, unless the tranny in question says it isn't, in which case it's not. There is no such thing as butch flight, no matter what the femmes or elders say, unless saying that invalidates the opinions of femmes in a sexist fashion or the opinions of elders in an ageist fashion. Or if they're right. But they are not, because butch and transgender are the same thing with different names, except that butch is not a trans identity, unless it is; see above."

-"I KNOW WHAT BUTCH IS", Butch is a Noun, Essays by S. Bear Bergman (2006)

[drop-dead-dino]

I’m totally normal about these two totally normal dudes :) .

I don’t usually read fics, specially AU related ones, but this one GOT me, holy cow. Check it out if you fancy that sort of thing! 

Love, Death, and Rollerskates by @spadillelicious !

[centaur-dreaming]

All fic writers have that one document in their drafts that would end their entire career, social life, everything if anyone irl were to find it

[smallidarityfan]

smallidarity highschool au

came up with this au like actually 2 years ago where it's mainly empires 2 smallidarity centric, with Jimmy as a student council member and Joel as an honours student who doesn't like the way Jimmy runs things around the school.

As payback for the regulations Jimmy put up that Joel thought was stupid, Joel does these elaborate 'The Office' style pranks on Jimmy (specifically) while Jimmy retaliates by trying his best to dig up dirt on Joel. This banter goes on for a while— however Joel ends up doing the pranks less as a statement, and instead more just to see how Jimmy would react... with his comical, cartoony villain yells, and... weirdly cute face....? (YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI)

very very old au drawings below:

from July 2023

😭😭 joel does NOT look like a highschooler here 😭😭😭😭 (i also wanted to draw angst in the first two ig idk a year later it's pretty cringe [i am still cringe]) (also partially inspired by when I read "Go for it, Nakamura!" and the mc reminded me of joel for no actual reason. or maybe i was just thinking about that manga while drawing smallidarity. idk)

from November 2022:

I think these doodles were genuinely the first instance of me converting from being against mcyt shipping to for shipping LMAOO

[shinyshade8026]

Buzzes and Biscuits

Requested by: @skull-pup

S comes home from an exhausting day of work and wants to relax. They find V wanting to do the same.

Word count: 1900

It was just a day like any other for the disassembler. Tireless work for hours into the night left S trudging up the stairs with a tired expression set on their visor. There was a downside when it came to helping the workers rebuild the city and get things running. They weren’t the only disassembly drone working on this, of course, the others would help as well, and even a few strangers. The process was slow, but Copper-9, or at least the city around Outpost-3, was starting to look livable again, but it was taking up a lot of time and energy. It felt tense and sluggish when it got home, but they felt a bit more awake upon seeing their housemates and family. 

As S slowly made its way up the carpeted steps, it used its delicate sensors to pick up the sounds of the others in the house. Asmi and Cosmo were playing a game in the living room, while E and J were pressed together on one side of the couch, watching the young drones while having quiet conversations. S couldn't find the sound of one drone in particular, making their chassis prick uneasily. Where was V?

S finally made it up the flight of stairs and ended up on the second floor, casting a lazy glance down the hall. The faintest rattle of chains gave away the sound of L remaining where she was, making a devilish grin part the blonde drone’s lips. It turned its attention to its bedroom, already itching to lay in bed and just relax. Their clawed hand found the doorknob, their other rubbing their optics. They quietly turned the knob, thinking gleefully at the fact they didn’t have to go help with the city the next night.

As it twisted the knob and pushed open the door, S largely expected to see nothing but a dark room and their neatly made bed. Instead, they saw a familiar jacket and scarf plopped on the bed, and a certain silver-haired drone creating a lump in the bed as she buried her face into the pillows. It smiled softly, seeing V turn her head just enough so it could see one of her half-open optics staring into their mismatched ones. 

The shorter drone made a sleepy noise, which S assumed to be a greeting, and their partner returned her greeting with a small wave. They quietly walked to the bed, rubbing their eyes while V sat up, her silver hair in a slightly tangled mess. The blanket fell from its point on her back as she waved them towards her with a slowed motion. It chuckled, thinking her sleepiness was cute. V noted their chuckle, which made her huff and puff her cheeks in a fake pout, causing S to giggle more. They loved it when she was herself. Not the psychopathic or strong mask she put up. Herself. The sweeter, softer, and sometimes playful, worker drone from when they were younger. 

They knew she was only this way around them. It somehow made them feel… special... 

It crawled onto the bed, taking off its jacket and tossing it to sit by V’s. Once they had settled in a sitting position, V draped herself over their lap, stretching out like a big cat and giving them a sleepy smile. The modified drone felt their core flare up and their tail rattled happily while they lovingly ran a hand through her hair, eliciting a quiet purr from her.

They kept running their hand through her hair, gently shifting apart the small tangles until they could freely run their hand through her hair with no issues. While they did this, V’s purrs increased, her tail slowly swaying with pure contentment. S tilted their head to the side as they continued what they were doing, noticing how her tail went and coiled around its leg as she stretched even more.

“You’re sleepy,” it noted without much thought, gently smiling. The disassembly drone’s only response at first was a half nod followed by a yawn. 

Once her yawn finished, V spoke, “Mph… very sleepy, but I need to do something before I sleep or else I’ll forget to do it by the time I have to leave tomorrow,”

S twirled a strand of her hair in their fingers, their tail nudging hers to try and get it to move from their leg to their tail, “You think I’d be able to help, Vivi?”

The sprawled-out drone lightly batted away S’s hand and deployed one of her wings, the one furthest from S. They flexed their wing before glancing at their partner. “I need to sharpen the blades of my wings, I keep forgetting to do it while I have the time, so they’ve ended up getting a bit duller than I’d like,”

It nodded, reaching for the bedside table drawer to grab the whetstone they shared for their wings. V stretched out more, flexing her wing before pulling it in so S could start. Her eyes closed while her arms crossed under her head to make her comfortable. Before starting, S ran their hand through her hair again and leaned to place a kiss on the arm of her wing. The gesture made her jolt slightly and she whirled her head to them, the expression she was met with was a gentle and sweet smile, making her core burn and flutter. How in the hell did she get so lucky?

She settled back into her previous position as S gently ran the whetstone along the edge of her longest feather blade. The sound was quiet and constant, letting both drones tune it out and focus on the other sounds.

Like V’s very noticeable purring as she tried not to fall into the comfortable haze of sleep.

S chuckled, the buzzy sound feeling like music to their ears. Once they had finished that blade, it moved to the next, slowly sharpening the shiny, slightly scratched, metal blades. During the process, the canister end of V’s tail started to sway in a slow wagging motion as her entire body relaxed, making S smile even more as their tail began to do the same, with an added quiet buzzing noise.

The blonde drone worked efficiently, sharpening her wings thoroughly while moving quickly so the two could rest sooner, but not fast enough to make things uncomfortable for V.

Within a short while, S had finished V’s left wing and was nudging her to turn so they could sharpen the other one. She obliged, of course, sitting up on their lap to turn and lay the other way, but not before kissing them for a moment. The sudden action made the taller drone blush profusely, making the yellow-eyed one snicker before laying down again and deploying her other wing. 

S blinked a few times to snap back into reality while their blush settled to a few ticks on their cheeks. It started applying the whetstone to V’s other wing blades, humming a song quietly while it worked on them. 

They delicately traced one of their claws over some of the deeper scratches in her wings, a thin frown settling on their lips. They knew it was just from normal usage, but seeing V hurt in any way made its core ping with sadness. 

The sprawled-out drone notices its pause in working, tilting their head to see its face before gently taking its hand into theirs and kissing the softly glowing triangle on the back. S jolted from the action, the sweet touch bringing them out of their sad stupor. No words were shared between them, only a loving stare before S smiled and rubbed the side of her hand with their thumb, returning to running the whetstone along the edges of V’s wings to continue the sharpening process.

It went a bit slower for this wing, the blades dulled from usage on her dominant side. At this point, it seemed like the smaller of the two was asleep by now, but the readjustments and shifts every few minutes told S that she was still awake. By the time S had finished both of her wings, they wanted to fall backward and rest. To which they obliged.

V made a chirping noise as they did so, sitting up to give them a blank look before taking the whetstone from their hands, placing it onto the bedside table, and draping herself over their front. She momentarily snuggled her face into their neck, hearing their purring begin again from her affection. When she sat up again, she heard a small grumbled sound from them, which she rolled her eyes at with a smile while grabbing their brush. 

S watched as V lay down, holding the blanket to the side so they could come and snuggle her, an offer they quickly gave in to. The taller drone lays on top of her, their head near her core and their body coming up from between her legs. Once they had settled down, V tugged off their beanie to get at their hair, chewing on her lip from the tangles she knew her hand couldn’t work through. Well, that was why she grabbed the brush.

She started to run the brush through their pale blonde hair, careful not to hurt them as she brushed it out. They soon were reduced to a purring mess, their tail wagging underneath the covers. V held the side of its face in her palm, her thumb rubbing its cheek while she brushed out the tangles. She kept this up, getting every inch of their fluffy hair while reassuring the blue sections stayed together.

Drones, workers specifically, often commented that the disassembly drones behaved like cats, which V couldn’t exactly disagree, not when she acted cat-like during moments. Especially around S. Speaking of the drone, their optics had closed a couple of minutes into the brushing, and their hands had settled into a spot on her chest, fingers curled slightly toward their palms. 

V focused on their hair, keeping it fluffy and soft as she went through it. She assumed that S would fall asleep while she did this, so she locked in on her task, her own optics drooping as her sleepiness began to get at her due to being surrounded by comfort. S was strangely a good weighted blanket.

However, something snapped her out of focus, making her blink a few times in surprise and look down. What she saw provided a smile to her, and even a small chuckle. 

S was half awake, gently kneading ‘biscuits’ on her tank top. She could feel their clawed fingertips slightly graze her metal as they moved, but it didn’t bother her. She could hear its purring increase as they did this, encouraging V to continue purring as well, filling the space of their bed with the sound of buzzy purrs, a sweet sound to both of their audinals. 

V finished brushing their hair, half haphazardly tossing the brush somewhere else onto the bed before locking her fingers together on S’s back, holding them close as she fell into a sleep-induced state, S inching themself up her chest to get closer to her face. Their kneading slowed, and eventually stopped, as they soon fell asleep alongside her, a sleepy smile etched onto their face.

[milla984]

With Neighbors Like These

Summary: Jack goes away for the weekend and Aaron and Reader can finally have some alone time (inspired by this concept)

Pairing: post season 12 Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Category: smut (NSFW, 18+, MDNI)

TW/CW: kissing, mutual masturbation, moderate dirty talk, penetrative sex, protected sex, established relationship, unspecified age gap, Hotch dealing with parenting issues, Jack is mentioned but not present

Word Count: 2k

The house was unusually quiet as you walked in, leaving your shoes at the entrance to proceed barefoot towards the small office Aaron had arranged for himself with a few retouches to the spare room in the back.

Despite having a key in case of emergencies and whatnot, like a very good neighbor, it was a common decision you’d only use it on specific occasions and mostly when Jack wasn’t around. A single soccer cleat lay abandoned in a corner in the living room; were it to happen on a regular day you knew the mere sight of it would have sparked a fierce argument, but this morning was different. 

The evening before a very concerned father had driven his fourteen-year-old son to the arranged meeting point, camping gear in tow, and Jack was now enjoying a two nights excursion somewhere in the local woods. You had a feeling that, conversely, Aaron wasn’t getting a kick out of the child-free weekend - confirmed by his rapid typing on the keyboard when you knocked on the wooden frame of the French door to catch his attention.

He looked at you and cracked a smile, still too focused on what he was doing. “It won’t take too long. I promise.”  

You dropped your purse under his chair and hugged him from behind, the scent of his aftershave filling your nose with pure delight.

“Feeling lonely, already?” 

“Why?!” he enquired. “I didn’t have to shout five times to turn off that damn videogame, last night… and nobody guzzled down half a gallon of milk directly from the bottle, at breakfast!”

“You’re also worried, I can tell,” you added and he shrugged, defeated, then went back to focusing on the screen.

He’d been working part-time as an FBI consultant for a law firm for about a year and you had never seen him putting his job before his kid: he was an active member of the PTA and even volunteered to chaperone whenever he could (something that many moms and other dads found incredibly hot, without a doubt). If he was working on a Saturday he was a hundred percent desperate for a distraction.

Your palms brushed over his shoulders and a delicate touch soon turned into a proper massage, kneading his muscles through the polo shirt he was wearing. 

“Relax. You’re too tense,” you mumbled. He had only shared a few unpleasant details about his life as a member of the Behavioral Analysis Unit in D.C. before he and Jack moved into the neighborhood; nevertheless, it didn’t take a genius to figure out his former employment as an FBI agent had taken a huge toll on both of them.

“I’m not sure I should have signed that consent form,” he confessed. 

“His entire class is with him and his teachers all have cell phones, nothing’s going to happen. Save for a few mosquito bites,” you replied. “And don’t get me wrong... but aren’t you being just a bit overprotective?!”

“Jack told me the same thing when I said I wanted to think about it. Except, he didn’t phrase it so nicely,” Aaron grinned and shook his head while he rose to his feet. “Sorry, enough with the family issues,” he apologized, “it’s a lovely Saturday morning. Have you got any interesting plans?” 

“I have. And they don’t involve homework,” you declared, and as you pushed his laptop to the opposite side of the desk he locked an arm around your waist, his expression reverting to a serious one.

“... so you’re a bad influence.”

The intimidating attitude he could pull off with a single stare never failed to make your legs turn into jelly. 

You lowered your voice to a purr. “You don’t even kn—”

His soft lips pressed onto yours stopped you mid-sentence. The fact he had a teenage son registered in your mind only as a foggy thought and the power he’d had on you since the instant you saw him jogging around the block was almost inexplicable.

“You’re right, no more homework. How about I take you out for lunch?” he proposed and the warmth of his breath on your skin ignited a fire you weren’t at all convinced you could control. Or would.

You hugged him tight, your bodies finally making contact. “How about we take care of something else, first?”

Aaron’s attitude towards romantic relationships exuded manners and consideration, the portrait of a gentleman from a different era, so the response to your suggestion came as a surprise: he’d always shown a preference for the intimacy of his bedroom, even though his palms stroking over your breasts to make your nipples grow stiff and visible through the fabric was the perfect sign he had no intention of wasting any time to move the action upstairs. 

Your tongues lustfully met in a second kiss, prompting you to let out an excited sigh as you blindly undid and removed his belt before letting it fall on the floor with a loud clunk. You reached for his zipper and he sighed in return but gasped a second later when you gave him a light push that forced him to sit down again. 

“Show me how you do it when we’re not together.”

Aaron’s eyes widened - confusion and stupor at the beginning, then the sheer thrill of the idea lit up his gaze. And made him hard entirely.

He sank into the cushion behind his back to finish unzipping his pants and pulling them down his hips so that his swollen erection was only contained by a thin layer of underwear. 

“You’re just going to watch?” he asked, locking eyes with you. You could have sworn that look alone increased the temperature in the room by a couple of degrees. “Doesn’t seem fair.”

You reached under the flowy dress to roll your panties along your thighs, letting them crumple around your ankles; you sat on the desk and lifted the skirt up to your waist, your feet resting on Aaron’s parted knees. 

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

He swallowed nervously but didn’t miss a movement of your fingers starting to draw circles around your most sensitive spot, guided by the aching tension in your belly; your mouth watered at the sight of his cock whipping free and he noticed, so he took his time to wrap his right hand around it.

You knew how to work his length, moving up and down in slow and long strokes as foreplay, nevertheless witnessing such a handsome man masturbating for you proved to be one of the most lascivious experiences of your life.

“I always think about you when I touch myself…” you confessed, and he held on to your ankle with his free hand while you rubbed your clit. 

“Are you trying to make me lose control?”

You nodded in confirmation and he growled. 

He was now coating his shaft and palm with the leaking precum, using only his index and middle finger to collect some of the slickness and spread it over the bulging head, the exposed glans glistening in the process. That was when he usually begged you to move faster, since his delicate skin was lubricated enough and increased friction meant pleasure - not pain.

“I’m really wet for you,” you teased him, your own desire pooling at your core, but his reaction threw you off balance. 

“Stop, please… stop,” he whimpered, “this is not…”    

His ragged breath made it difficult for him to articulate his words. “I need you.”

You gestured at the purse that was still under his chair and he handed it to you; sharing the house with a teenager meant Aaron had grown accustomed to some of his clean t-shirts randomly disappearing from his drawers and wardrobe, so you both knew nothing out of the ordinary could be hidden among his personal stuff. 

He stared at you, entranced, as you retrieved the small box you’d carried with you and tore one of the foil packages open. 

“A little closer, maybe…?” you joked, and when he stood up you bit your lower lip in anticipation. He kissed you lightly on your forehead as you unrolled the latex down his hardness, then you pinched his chin and smiled at him.

“Better?!”   

He whined again. “Not exactly.”

You grabbed him by the nape of his neck, speaking softly to his ear. “Make me come. I can’t wait anymore.”

The uninhibited request seemed to have flipped a switch in him: the sound of a pencil holder spilling its content made you laugh as Aaron enthusiastically raised your legs in the air and held them to his chest, so he could start rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your folds.

It was torture but he was damn good at it.

When he managed to get himself covered in your arousal he slipped the bulbous head past your entrance. “It’s so big…” you muttered.

Truth be told he wasn’t that well-endowed and you had nothing against it, since you’d never been keen on painful sex, still you welcomed him with a loud moan once he buried himself inside of you. Even a gentleman from another era didn’t mind a bit of flattering and appreciation of his manhood. 

He wasn’t as vocal, though, but his deep groans reverberated in his throat in a manifestation of primal, untamed passion; he looked so solemn it drove you insane, his brows furrowed and tiny droplets of sweat trapped between his short hair, almost as if he was directing all of his energies into screwing your brains out.

When his thrusts grew slower but more intense you wriggled your legs free and locked them around his waist: with a last, fierce grunt he twitched several times and you closed your eyes to enjoy the moment, which was always the biggest turn-on for you.

With your eyes still closed you welcomed the pressure on your lips, a not-so-subtle invitation to take his index and middle finger in your mouth; you sucked on them alternately, happy to oblige, tasting traces of the salty precum. You clawed at his forearm when he brought the wet digits to your clit, rubbing and drawing circles just like you’d shown him before.

“Aaron… I’m…” you mewled, grabbing a fistful of his hair as you - indeed - came with his throbbing cock still inside you, lungs pleading for air and inner muscles clenching around him.

He collapsed on top of you, the additional weight making you realize how harsh the desk’s smooth surface was on your back, yet you cupped his face and stroked his flustered cheeks with your thumbs. 

“I missed you so much,” you breathed out as soon as you were able to.

He pulled out and started to fix his clothes, and before he got rid of the condom he planted the sweetest kiss on your lips. “I’m sorry about the other weekend. Jack wasn’t supposed to play, last minute change of plans—”

“Don’t be sorry, I know you love going to his games,” you said, propping up on one elbow to straighten yourself as he stood in front of you. “Besides, you wouldn’t want to disappoint your biggest fans, would you?”

He was still heaving a little and looked at you with a pensive pout. “... what?!”

“I mean, you’ve seriously never noticed…?” you locked your hands behind his neck as you tried to come up with a good imitation of the cooing voice of the soccer moms who you knew swarmed the sidelines every time he was present.

“Aaron, can you help us move the coolers? Aaron, we need to rearrange those chairs! Aaron, come here and have some cake! We made it for you ‘cause you’re such a good dad and it’s soooooo hot!”

He laughed, the vibrations in his ribcage making your breasts jiggle, then he gave you his best smile to date. “You’re jealous?!”

You shrugged, holding him closer. “No. To be honest I don’t even blame them, you are a good dad. Which is very hot, by the way.”

“Thank you,” he laughed again as he wrapped you in his arms to kiss you one more time, forcing you to close your eyes and get lost in his tender embrace. You muffled a surprised gasp when he playfully nipped at your earlobe with another heart-stopping smile. 

“But just to be clear…” he added, his voice dropping to a whisper, “it’s usually cookies, not cake!”

NB: I don't really have an Aaron Hotchner fic taglist 'cause I usually write about Spencer Reid but if you wish to be tagged in future Hotch-centric works (SFW or not, who knows?) you can either send me an ask or leave a comment below.

[auroraaura-111]

gods, i miss you. i miss touching you and having my hands in your hair while you rest your head on my stomach and wrap your hands around my middle. i miss talking to you and hearing your voice.

i want to cuddle you by having your head on my chest and your arm draped around my waist while i scratch the back of your head. i want you to show me how much you trust me by falling asleep on me and claiming it was the best rest of your life.

sometimes it scares me how much i want you. and not in a sexual way, but so closely intimate that i want to merge my body with yours. it brings tears to my eyes, not of sadness, but… of overwhelming emotion, i suppose. i love touching you. i love softly caressing your hair, twirling it around my fingers, scratching your scalp. i love gently sliding my fingertips across your face, along your jaw and neck, cupping your cheek, moving your silky curls out of your face. i love sitting on your lap, pressing myself against you, just showing you how much i love you through touch.

fuck, i miss you so much.

- when you miss your comfort character but they live in a different universe

[wellsayhelloaagin]

𝙴𝚗𝚜𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜- 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚛

◌𝘉𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘗𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵◌

𝙴𝚗𝚜𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

Summary: Just when you thought things couldn't get worse, along come your feelings to make things that much harder.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader, Wanda Mamimoff x f!reader

Genre: Smut, Dark fic

Words: 6.1k

Warnings: dark!Nat, kidnapping, mentions of murder, mentions of noncon, attempted noncon, allusions to forced pregnancy, beating, violence, bruises, blood, broken bones

AN: This took forever and I have no excuses. Hopefully there are people still following along with this story. Also, again, please read the warnings. This is a dark!fic and deals with some heavy subject matter so please be responsible for your own media consumption. With that being said, the story really picks up from here. Only three more parts to go.

Days continue to pass in your own personal hell and without even realising it, you quickly fall into a routine.

Each day is the same — you wake up, you cook, you clean and you try to avoid the marbles as much as possible. But no matter how hard you try, Natasha always finds something to punish you for.

The food is too salty, there is a smudge on the edge of her glass, the laundry is not folded the correct way. You dread the sound of the marbles hitting the bottom of the glass jar, the sharp, clinking noise beginning to echo in your nightmares. 

While Wanda tried to bear the brunt of the abuse, she was right about not being able to shield you forever from the full horrors of living under Natasha’s control. 

It always came after the punishment, the strikes that you had to count out through the tears and the pain. Natasha would take you roughly, using you for her own needs and discarding you afterwards. You would walk numbly back to the bedroom, trying to forget what had just transpired.

Sometimes though, Natasha would be sweet with you. She would whisper praise in your ear, making your pleasure her greatest concern. You would always try to fight it, not wanting Natasha to get what she wanted but your body would always betray you.

Those nights were the worst.

You always felt dirty afterwards. You would scrub yourself raw in the shower but it never felt like enough. It felt like Natasha was under your skin; no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t wash away the feeling of her hands touching you. 

Wanda always held you tighter those nights, letting your tears soak her shirt while you clung to her like a lifeline. 

You knew she was still enduring worse and you found yourself torn over how to feel. On one hand, you were glad that you never had to follow Natasha upstairs after lunch, to experience whatever had Wanda returning day after day with tear-stained cheeks. You never asked her what happened up there, not wanting to make her relive it again.

But on the other hand, you often found yourself consumed by guilt when you saw the evidence of Natasha’s abuse on Wanda’s skin. You’d catch a glimpse of the bruises as she slept, the overlapping handprints of blue and black that would litter her thighs. The welts on her sides, the result of something striking her in the same place repeatedly. The scratches that seemed to stretch the length of her back.

It made you sick to your stomach every time you felt relieved that Natasha had grabbed Wanda’s hand and not your own. 

//

You had begun to live for bedtime.

Most nights, after Natasha would lock the two of you in the room, you found yourselves gravitating toward each other. You would sit beside each other in the bed, backs resting against the headboard as you talked. Eventually, you would find yourself growing tired and the two of you would move under the covers. 

While you always tried to keep a respectable distance, each morning when you woke you found your body tangled with Wanda’s. You would savour those few moments of peace before a new day of terror would begin, fear filling your veins whenever you heard Natasha moving around upstairs.

During your talks, you began to learn more about Wanda. You learnt what she liked and disliked, you learnt about her life before this nightmare, you learnt about her hopes and dreams. You found out about her family, about the parents and brother that she lost in her home country before she moved here.

“It’s how I ended up with Natasha,” Wanda whispered to you one night. “I had no one. I was the perfect target. My brother had just died, and I was still grieving. She seemed so nice at first and I really thought that moving here had been the right decision.”

You hadn’t known what to say to that, instead intertwining your fingers with Wanda’s in an attempt to comfort her. She squeezed your fingers in return, her small smile letting you know that she appreciated the gesture.

You tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered when she did.

//

As the weeks drag on, you find it harder to ignore your attraction to Wanda.

At first, you try to reason with yourself that it’s just because of the situation. That the two of you were experiencing something traumatic together so it only made sense that you would turn to her for comfort. 

Then, you tried to pass it off as just a physical attraction. There was no denying that Wanda was beautiful, her eyes captivating you from the first time you met her.

Eventually, though, you realised that it was more than that.

Wanda was the type of woman that you would have fallen for before you ended up here. She was kind and selfless, always trying her best to keep your spirits up. She had a wicked sense of humour and you quickly discovered that her laugh was one of your favourite sounds. She was stronger than anyone you had ever met, the fact that she had endured so much and still maintained her spirit was something you admired.

There was just something about Wanda that drew you in and as much as you tried to deny it, you had fallen hard for her.

“Tell me something fun,” Wanda distracts you from your thoughts, poking her finger into your cheek.

The two of you were in your room for the night, your mind wandering during a lull in the conversation.

“Uh-” you reply dumbly, blinking slowly at Wanda as you try to clear your thoughts.

When you don’t respond she sticks out her bottom lip, pouting adorably.

“Please, I’m bored.”

“Okay, uh…” you trail off, wracking your brain for something to say.

Wanda sits there patiently, wide green eyes watching you and making it much harder to think clearly.

“Oh,” you exclaim after a minute, finally coming up with something to discuss. “I have a question for you.”

Wanda bounces onto her knees beside you, eagerly waiting for you to continue.

“Uh,” you begin, rubbing the back of your neck, already rethinking your question. “If you had to plan a perfect day, what would it be?”

“What do you mean?” she looks at you puzzled, her brow furrowed adorably in confusion. 

“Like if you could have one day with everything you wanted, what would it be?” You regret the question as you watch her face fall.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she says quickly, the lightness in her tone gone. “I’m stuck here. My days are far from perfect.”

“Okay, but just imagine-” you try to continue, not wanting to ruin your time with Wanda.

“What’s the point?” Her voice is sharp as she cuts you off and you feel the sting of hurt in your chest.

“Well, we have to have some hope,” you try to reason, trying to keep the hurt out of your voice. 

“Trust me, there’s no hope.” Wanda scoffs, her bitter tone feeling like a stab to your heart. “Even if I did get out, I still have no one”

The last part is said so softly that you almost missed it. The vulnerability in her voice hurts more than anything she had said and you feel the urge to pull her into your arms.

“You’d have me,” you confess quietly, looking down at your fingers twisting together on your lap. 

“What?” Wanda asks, all hostility gone from her voice now. 

You look up at her and your heart jumps at her soft expression. You can see the shine of tears in her green eyes, a glimmer of hope swirling amongst the jade green. 

“You’d have me,” you repeat yourself, louder this time. “If we get out of here, I still want you in my life.”

Wanda’s soft smile dazzles you and fills you with courage you didn’t know you had. It’s the only explanation you had for what you say next.

“I- I care about you.”

The room is silent again after your confession and you can feel the heat creeping up your neck. Wanda is looking at you wide-eyed and you hold your breath, waiting for her to recoil in disgust. You had come so close to admitting the real depth of your feelings, glad to have caught yourself before you ruined the only good thing you had left in your life.

“Oh,” she says after a moment, the word hanging in the air awkwardly. 

Maybe you ruined it afterall. 

“Yeah,” you reply with a shrug before backtracking. “I know I haven’t known you very long but I like to think of you as my best friend. I mean, I didn’t have many friends before this and the ones I did have, I wasn’t as close to them as I am with you.”

Wanda just nods, pursing her lips as she thinks. You blow out a breath, resting back against the headboard of the bed wishing a giant sinkhole would appear to end your suffering.

Of course she didn’t feel the same about you, she was stuck with you due to circumstances beyond her control. If the two of you ever did make it out of here, she’d probably try and get as far away from you as she could, not wanting to be reminded of the horrors of this house every time she looked at your face.

“My perfect day,” Wanda begins, resting beside you on the bed, her back against the headboard as well. “I think I’d like to go to Disneyland.”

“Disneyland?” you question with an arched brow. “Aren’t you a little old for Mickey Mouse?”

Wanda pokes her tongue out at you and you smile at her antics, thankful for the return of the playful mood.

“I’m young at heart,” she retorts and you just roll your eyes. “Besides, I’ve never been before. My brother and I always saw it advertised back in Sokovia and we would beg our parents to take us. We never had the money to travel but Pietro and I promised each other that one day we would make it to America and finally go there.”

She smiles wistfully, obviously caught up in her memories of her family. 

“Well then it sounds like a great day,” you tell her, earning a bright smile.

“I’d go on all the rides and eat so much food that I’d feel sick,” she continues, her excitement from earlier returning. “I want to eat everything Mickey shaped in the park and walk around with those ears on all day. Then I’d watch the fireworks at the end of the night.”

Her eyes are bright with hope as she talks and you can’t help but grin at her.

“You’d be there too of course,” she finishes, turning to look at you.

“Oh?” you question, surprised that she’d want to include you in a day that was so special to her.

“Yeah,” she replies, bumping her shoulder against yours. “I couldn’t spend a day at Disneyland without my best friend.”

Her eyes twinkle as she looks at you and you feel your heart swell. Maybe you wouldn’t lose her after all.

“What about you?” she asks after a moment, picking at a thread on the blanket. “What would your perfect day be?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, thinking about what you’d want to do if you ever made it out of here alive. “It would definitely be spent with you though.”

Wanda’s hand finds yours on top of the covers, her pinky finger interlocking with yours. 

“Maybe we could go out to eat a meal we didn't have to cook ourselves. Somewhere with a nice open outdoor seating, so you can feel the breeze on your face.” 

You close your eyes as you talk, trying to imagine it. Sitting across the table from Wanda, comparing who ordered the best meal, sharing each other’s dessert. 

“That sounds nice,” Wanda’s soft sigh draws you from your fantasy, and you open your eyes to see her watching you carefully. 

“Then afterwards we could do something fun like mini golf or bowling,” you continue, trying to swallow around the lump in your throat from the look Wanda was giving you. “We could go to the arcade and I can try and win you a giant teddy for you to cuddle at night.”

“But I like cuddling you,” Wanda’s reply comes so quickly that you think she must have blurted it out without thinking.

Her cheeks are dusted with pink, her teeth chewing her bottom lip nervously after her admission.

You squeeze her pinky in reassurance, smiling softly at the woman you were quickly falling in love with.

“Yeah, I like cuddling you too.”

//

After your ‘perfect day’ discussion, something shifts between the two of you.

It’s never brought up, neither of you wanting to shatter the carefully formed illusion of friendship, but there is something different in the air.

The stolen glances between the two of you linger just a little longer, the smiles are just a little brighter and everything feels easier to bear.

You find the days easier to get through, even with Natasha being her usual horrible self. Whenever she does something particularly awful, the two of you would just mouth ‘perfect day’ to each other and that tiny glimmer of hope would take hold.

You didn’t want to be too optimistic, you knew that your situation was less than ideal. But still, you knew that you had a better chance of escaping if you could keep your spirits high. 

You were cleaning the kitchen after lunch as you normally did, making sure that everything was spotless. Natasha hadn’t added any marbles to the jar today and you were determined to make it through just one day without you or Wanda needing to be punished for breaking her asinine rules.

Wanda was currently upstairs with Natasha and while the thought made your stomach recoil, you were trying to keep it out of your mind. 

You’re pulling the last of the dishes from the dishwasher when you hear footsteps on the stairs and you quickly look around to make sure nothing was out of place. 

Natasha enters the kitchen, Wanda standing silently behind her. Her face is cast downwards so you can’t check to see how she is doing, the defeated hunch of her shoulders worrying you.

“You’ve done such a good job of cleaning, malyshka,” Natasha addresses you, once again ignoring the tension in the room.

She had to know how much you despised her but she obviously didn’t care. Or maybe she just got off on the fact that you hated her.

You nod in response to Natasha’s compliment, not wanting to anger her. You kept trying to catch Wanda’s eye to make sure she was okay but she still wasn’t looking up. You feel anxiety claw at the pit of your stomach, wanting to run over to talk to her but knowing it would arouse suspicion with Natasha.

“I’m going to go do some work while you two make dinner,” Natasha informs you, pressing a kiss to the side of Wanda’s head. 

Wanda doesn’t even jerk away like she usually did, standing stoically in place as Natasha retreats to her office. You approach her carefully, not wanting to startle her.

“Are you okay?” You whisper, hand hovering awkwardly over Wanda’s arm, too afraid to touch her.

Wanda looks up at your voice, her eyes red-rimmed and cheeks tear-stained like always. Except, this time the shine of her eyes that was usually there when she looked at you was absent. Instead, a vacant stare replaced it, Wanda’s eyes dull and glazed over, like she wasn’t even there.

She gives you a shrug, pushing past you toward the kitchen. You can hear her opening cupboards and the clanking of pots as she drags them out to get ready for dinner.

Her behaviour has you worried, your stomach coiled in knots as you try to work out what to do next. 

You follow Wanda to the kitchen, silently helping as she makes dinner. You keep glancing at her but she seems to be moving on autopilot, barely acknowledging your presence.

You want to ask her what’s wrong but you don’t want to set her off, choosing instead to wait until that night, when you were both in your room with less chance of Natasha walking into the middle of your conversation.

Dinner passes quickly, Natasha spends most of the time talking about herself as usual. You try extra hard to seem engaged, answering Natasha’s questions and keeping up with her conversation. Wanda was checked out most of the meal, pushing the food around on her plate more than eating it. She only responded to Natasha's questions when you kicked her foot under the table to gain her attention but even that was mostly her nodding her head in agreement to whatever Natasha had said. 

You clean up afterwards and to your relief, you make it to the end of the night without earning any marbles. The joy is overshadowed by Wanda’s strange behaviour but still, you’re grateful to go straight to the room without having to make a detour with Natasha like you usually did.

She bids the two of you goodnight before locking you in and you press your ear to the door to make sure you hear her footsteps retreating down the hallway.

When you’re sure she’s gone, you turn to Wanda to finally get some answers out of her. She’s rummaging around in one of the drawers, pulling out some clothes. She turns to you once she’s done, her eyes still expressionless.

“Do you mind if I shower first?”

It was the first thing she had said in hours, her body language still as tense as it had been when she first came down the stairs.

“Um, sure,” you reply, not wanting to upset her any more than she already was.

She walks to the bathroom and closes the door behind her and a few moments later you hear the shower start up. You sit on the edge of the bed, your thoughts running rampant about what happened between her and Natasha. 

You knew it had to be bad and you were almost too scared to ask but you know you owed it to Wanda to try and help her. You gather your clothes as the shower turns off, the sounds of Wanda getting changed muffled through the door.

Once she exits the bathroom, you take your shower to give her some more time to herself. The hot water helps ease some of the tension and by the time you’re drying yourself off, you’ve already planned what to say to Wanda.

However, when you walk back into the bedroom, Wanda is already under the covers of her bed. The overhead light is off, leaving the moon the only source of light in the room. You get the hint, walking over to your bed and crawling under the covers.

You look over to Wanda’s bed but she’s faced away from you and you can’t quite tell if she’s asleep or not. You whisper her name but get no response so you roll onto your back, staring up at the ceiling.

“I hope you’re okay,” you whisper again into the dark, not even sure if you were being heard. “I just want to help, I hate seeing you like this.”

You still get no response so you sigh quietly to yourself, determined to wake up early to find out what the hell was going on.

“Goodnight Wanda,” you try again. “I hope you know that no matter what I still care about you. Nothing you could say would make me stop being your friend.”

You close your eyes then and for a few moments, the room is silent.

Then you hear some rustling from across the room, the sound of feet padding across the carpet before the edge of your blanket is lifted. You scoot over to the side of the bed, leaving enough room for Wanda to climb in next to you.

She settles into the bed, her head resting on your chest as your arm wraps comfortingly around her shoulders. Her arm is slung across your waist as she gets comfortable and you drape the blanket carefully over the both of you.

You don’t say anything, not wanting to push Wanda. You can feel the warmth of her tears soaking into your shirt, her sniffles the only sound in the room.

“When we were upstairs earlier,” Wanda begins, her voice sounding broken and defeated, “Natasha started talking about the future. About the plans she said she had for me.”

Your stomach drops, knowing that whatever Natasha had said must have been bad.

“She said that I’ve been doing so well she’s decided to keep me long term, that she didn’t need to get rid of me like Carol.”

You tense up at the name of Wanda’s former roommate, wondering if Natasha was going to subject you to the same fate. Wanda pauses for a moment, taking a breath before she continues her story.

“She started talking about kids. About how she’s been looking into different methods and that we could start trying in a month or so.”

You feel your blood run cold at her words, Natasha's sick fantasy feeling more and more twisted as Wanda spoke.

“She said that I’d look so good pregnant, that I’d make a good mother.” Wanda’s voice breaks on the last word, a sob catching in her throat.

You rub her back soothingly, unsure of what to say or what to do. Your determination to get out of here only increased, hell-bent on getting Wanda out of here before it was too late.

Wanda pushes herself up to look at you, her eyes wide and fearful.

“I’m so scared,” she admits, her lips trembling. “I don’t want it to get to that point. I couldn’t handle bringing a child into this, to expose something so innocent to that monster.”

She collapses back against you, her body shaking as she cried. 

You just held her until she fell asleep, her sobs eventually dying down as she succumbed to the exhaustion of the day.

You were well and truly fucked.

//

The light wakes you in the morning, the sun bathing the room in a cheery glow that didn’t match how you felt inside. You were exhausted, only managing a few hours of sleep the night before as Wanda’s confession played over and over in your mind.

You were no closer to a plan of escape and it seemed as though your days were numbered here. You had to get out before Natasha managed to put her plan into place but you didn’t even know where to start.

You feel Wanda stirring, her head still resting on your chest as she clung tightly to you. You cast your eyes down, your heart breaking as you watch her face shift from peaceful slumber to fear. 

“Morning,” you mumble, alerting her to the fact that you were awake.

“Morning,” she whispers in reply, her eyes already shining with tears. 

You knew it was going to be a long day.

You both get ready for the day, Wanda’s movements slow. She looked so defeated and you wanted nothing more than to wrap her in your arms and protect her from everything.

You hear Natasha’s footsteps above you, Wanda’s head snapping up to the ceiling as she tracks the sound to the stairs.

“Ready?” You ask, offering her your hand in a show of support.

Wanda just shakes her head, her arms wrapping around her middle as if she was trying to hold herself together.

“I can’t do this,” she whispers frantically. “I can’t take another day in this hell. I wish it was all over. I wish I was dead.”

You feel your blood run cold at her words and you walk over to her quickly, cupping her face in your hands and forcing her to look at you.

“Hey,” you say urgently, wary of the approaching footsteps. “I won’t let it happen. I’m going to get you out.”

Wanda just shakes her head again, squeezing her eyes shut and forcing a tear to run down her cheek.

“I promise-,” you try to continue but the pounding on the door makes you jump back, terrified of what Natasha would do to you if she found the two of you in this position.

“Five minutes,” you hear behind the door.

Wanda uses the distraction to scurry into the bathroom, the lock clicking behind her. You want to bang on the door for her to open up but it was too risky with Natasha awake so you just sit on the floor beside it. 

“Wanda,” you say softly, hoping she was listening. “I promise I’ll do whatever I can to keep you safe. You have to trust me.”

You hear nothing in return and you want to yell in frustration at the whole situation. 

When you hear Natasha unlocking the door, you quickly get to your feet. The door springs open, her fiery red hair the first thing you see before her sinister grin comes into view. 

You’d love nothing more than to slap that grin off her face but instead, you try and keep your breathing under control, standing there silently as she scans the room.

“Where’s Wanda?” she asks, her brow furrowed. 

You knew she hated being kept waiting and you hoped that this wasn’t going to be an indication of your day.

“Bathroom,” you reply quickly, hoping that Wanda would make an appearance soon.

As if she had heard your silent plea, the door to the bathroom opens and Wanda walks out. Her face is blank, eyes vacant like they had been the day before. You hated seeing her like this but with Natasha standing there, there was nothing you could do.

“Hurry up,” Natasha taps her foot impatiently and you despise seeing her in the safe space of your room. “I haven’t got all day.”

As you and Wanda trail after Natasha, you keep trying to catch Wanda’s eye but she doesn’t take her gaze off her feet. Natasha detours via the living room and your stomach sinks when she drops two marbles into the jar.

The morning continues the same way. Wanda not seeming to be present, Natasha growing frustrated and marbles being placed in the jar despite how hard you try to overcompensate. By the time you’re making lunch, there are already twelve marbles in the jar and you’re dreading the time after dinner.

You cast a wary glance at Wanda, her plate of food untouched in front of her. Her eyes are still vacant and you don’t know how you can snap her out of it. Natasha is talking about herself again, eating happily and ignoring the almost comatose person at the table.

“Delicious as always,” Natasha compliments the two of you as she finishes her meal, placing her hand on top of yours. Her thumb strokes over the back of your hand and you fight the urge to pull it away, hiding your shiver of disgust.

“Thank you,” you force out, trying to smile at her. 

This seems to placate her enough and she turns to Wanda, a smile on her face.

“Let’s go upstairs,” she tells her, tilting her head to the second floor. “We can finish our conversation from yesterday.”

The reminder of the previous day's events makes Wanda jerk, her hand flying out and accidentally knocking over a glass. You watch in slow motion as it flies across the table, the water spilling in Natasha’s lap before the glass careens to the floor. The shattering sound echoes in the room and you can already see the rage building on Natasha’s face.

“Sorry, sorry sorry,” Wanda blurts out, dropping to her knees to try and clean up the mess. She continues to chant apologies as she picks up the shards with her bare hands.

You sit there in shock, still processing the last few seconds as Natasha rises to her feet, visibly shaking with anger.

“You stupid fucking cunt!” She roars and Wanda flinches, the glass cutting her palm as she continues to try and clean the mess. 

You watch the scarlet liquid bloom across her palm, dripping onto the floor below her as Natasha pushes her onto her back with the heel of her boot.

“You think you can just break my things, the things I work hard to provide for you and just say ‘sorry’?” 

You could see a fire in Natasha’s eyes, the venom in her voice making you shrink in your seat.

“No, I-” Wanda squeaks out, her eyes wide and fearful but Natasha doesn’t let her continue.

“You useless slut,” she screams out, spit flying from her mouth in her rage. “You’re going to pay for that.”

You watch in horror as Natasha bends down, grabbing a fistful of Wanda’s hair before she begins to drag her down the hallway. Wanda’s pained cries spur you to action and you rush out of your seat, standing in front of Natasha to try and block her.

“She didn’t mean it,” you plead, tears filling your eyes. “Please, let her go.”

“Move,” Natasha demands, her voice low and dangerous.

“No,” you shake your head, surprised by your own bravery. “Don’t hurt her please.”

“Move,” Natasha tells you again, louder this time. 

When you shake your head again, she pushes you aside with her free hand, her strength no match for you. You crash into the wall, watching as Natasha drags Wanda past you again.

You catch the blood staining her shirt, the agony and fear written across her face, and the pleading in her eyes. You can’t explain your thought process for what you did next, all you know is that you had to protect Wanda. 

You were desperate.

You push yourself off the wall, panicked breaths escaping you as you move toward Natasha again. Her face turns to look at you, eyes still full of malice as you bring your arm back and swing as hard as you can.

Your open hand makes contact with Natasha’s face with a resounding smack, her head recoiling from the force of your blow. You feel the heat bloom in your palm, dread instantly filling you as your mind catches up to your body.

“Oh no,” you whisper as you back away, clutching your hand to your chest. 

You feel your back hit the wall, Natasha’s hand letting go of Wanda’s hair, the brunette slumping to the floor in a heap, body shaking from sobs.

Natasha wipes her lip, blood coating her finger as she pulls away. Her head turns to you, the fire from earlier increased tenfold. You want to run but her stare is holding you in place, fear coursing through your body.

Wanda is quickly forgotten as Natasha advances toward you, grabbing your arm roughly as she drags you to the room. You stumble over your feet, trying to wrench yourself free but it’s no use. Your fate had already been sealed. 

Natasha throws you inside the room and you land on the floor with a thud as she shuts the door behind her. You hear the lock click about a second before the pounding on the other side begins, Wanda’s desperate pleas muffled by the wood.

“Stand up,” Natasha spits at you, her eyes wide. She had never looked more crazy.

You are shaking too much to follow orders, every instinct telling you to run. Natasha lets out a frustrated growl, rushing over to you and yanking you up by your hair.

“I said stand up,” she yells over your cry of pain. You try and pry your hair free of her grasp but she punches you in the stomach, knocking the wind from your lungs.

“You want to hit me?” she asks, punctuating the statement with a blow to your cheek as you stand there hunched over. “You think you can take me?”

She shoves you and you fall again, landing on your side on the bed. You still haven’t caught your breath before Natasha jumped onto the bed, straddling you.

“Come on then,” she taunts, landing another blow to your side. “If you want to hit me, do it.”

She doesn’t let up, her fists landing on any exposed inch of you they could find. You don’t know when one hit ends and the other begins, the only thing you know is the overwhelming pain.

After a few minutes, you feel her tire, one of your eyes already swollen shut from a particularly brutal right hook. She’s panting above you, her knuckles bruised and bloody. 

“Don’t you ever think about doing that again,” she warns, her face close to yours. “Or you won’t live to see another day.”

You know she’s telling the truth, Carol's name flashing to your mind. You can still hear Wanda on the other side of the door, her sobs and pleas muffled by the ringing in your ears.

You feel Natasha stand, the sound of a zipper reaching your ears. You knew what came next but it wasn’t something that you could handle right now. Your body was already aching all over, you couldn’t withstand more of her abuse.

You did the only thing you could think of, you rolled off the side of the bed, groaning as you made contact with the hard floor.

“Get up,” Natasha screams at you, kicking you in the leg. “I’m not done with you yet.”

You just groan again, your entire body on fire. You hear Natasha let out a scream of frustration before her boot hits your leg again.

“I said get the fuck up.”

You instinctively cover your head with your hands, trying to offer it some protection. Natasha kicks you a few more times in frustration and you hope that it will all be over soon.

One of her kicks lands swiftly against your ribs, the sharp pain stealing your breath instantly. You’re sure you felt a crack, almost certain that she had just broken your ribs. She kicks you a few more times for good measure, her growls of frustration slowly easing.

“God you’re pathetic,” she sneers after a while. 

You feel her hand in your hair once more, lifting you to your feet. You feel groggy, the pain almost unbearable as she jostles your ribs. You whimper which just makes her laugh at you.

She starts walking toward the door and you have no choice but to follow to stop your hair from being ripped out. She opens the door and you spot Wanda on the floor, blurry through your tears and what you assumed was blood dripping down your face.

“Get out of my way,” Natasha commands and Wanda scurries back.

Natasha drags you down the hall to your bedroom, throwing you inside. You let out a wail as you land heavily, the pain worsening. 

You sense someone kneeling beside you, the soft hands letting you know that Wanda had made her way to the room. You hear the door slam, the lock clicking into place and the sound of Natasha’s boots retreating up the stairs.

Wanda’s soft sobs echo beside you as she gently cradles your head in her lap, her fingers softly brushing over your cheeks.

“Why?” she chokes out and you don’t know what she's referring to.

Your mind feels hazy, the pain pulling you to the edge of consciousness as her soft voice fills your mind. You want to stay awake for her, to let her know you were okay but it was starting to become too hard.

“Why did you do that, why did you stop her?” You can feel Wanda’s tears dripping onto your face, the salt stinging as it makes contact with the open skin. “You were so stupid. Why did you do that?”

“Had to protect you,” you cough out, the effort making it even harder to stay awake.

“Why?” Wanda questions again, clearly upset by your actions.

You had to try and make her understand, make sure she knew why you risked everything for her. With the last of your strength, you open your one good eye, Wanda’s tear-stained face coming into view.

“I think I love you,” your voice is barely a whisper but you know she heard you, her eyes going wide.

And then the world went black. 

I no longer do taglists but you can follow my library blog and turn on notifications to get alerts when I post a new story @puppiesbrainsandbabieshearts

[chirpsythismorning]

Yeah a teaser dropping on ST day would be cool. But can we agree that a DNA board reveal would be infinitely better?

[viperwhispered]

Too Little

Part three of Jamil (not) dealing with feels here we go. Jamil x reader, Jamil’s pov Previous parts: part one, part two

This was stupid.

Here he was, rolling around in bed, unable to sleep because thoughts of you filled his mind.

It had been futile of Jamil to think that he could simply brush your presence aside, that he could treat you like just another schoolmate and not let you consume his mind. 

Not when every quiet moment had him reach for his phone in hopes of a new message from you.

Not when you kept on finding new ways to make his heart skip a beat every time he saw you.

Not when he missed you more acutely every time you weren’t there.

So, despite his best efforts, his mind treaded those same paths, time and again, occupied by all the parts of you. Your expressions, your mannerisms, your words, every single detail committed to his memory and played over and over.

He suspected that at this point he’d be able to recreate most of your expressions just from memory. Your voice, too, playing so clearly in his mind.

Not to even mention those oh so tantalizing what ifs, supplying him with even sweeter temptations than the confines of reality and memory could provide.

What it would feel like to touch you, to hold you, to kiss you, to-

No. No no no. He would not go there.

Jamil could feel the heat burning in his cheeks and he rolled over, groaning into his pillow.

This was ridiculous. Absolutely preposterous.

Yet, there was no getting out of it.

He wanted you.

He wanted more of you, so much more than what he had.

Because each taste of you left him craving more, each glimpse made him want to uncover everything there was to you.

Even the parts you might consider ugly, as sappy as that was.

What kind of people did you like, anyway?

Charming? Intelligent? Funny?

Rich and influential? 

Did you even like guys? Or relationships in general?

Just the thought - relationship - made Jamil's cheeks burn even brighter, made his legs twitch under the covers.

Yet, somehow, it did not sound so bad.

To have you.

To be yours.

To know and be known.

He huffed and turned over onto his back.

As if his duties left room for something for himself, left enough of him to share with someone like that.

And would you like what you saw in him, anyway?

Yet, his excuses were beginning to sound more and more hollow.

After all, he was nothing if not resourceful, and so far you’d shown no signs of shying away, even as you dug your way deeper.

Jamil stared at the canopy over his bed with unseeing eyes.

He’d have to do something about this.

Because if he didn’t, he might just lose his mind.

But was the alternative any better? Could he even handle it? The full force of you, if - and it was a big if - you were to accept him.

Even now, when you looked at him in that particular way of yours… He never could hold your eyes for long when that happened. The softness and the warmth he saw were far too overwhelming, always forcing him to turn away lest he made a complete fool of himself.

If he were to have that, with the full force of affection intention behind it… How could he even bear it?

Like the other day… You’d found Jamil in the middle of his chores and dragged him away, his to-do list crumbling when you grabbed his hand and led him outside.

He was all too aware of how his protests had been half-hearted at best. How your sudden appearance, your touch had shut down every sensible part of him, leaving him unpleasantly raw.

And by the time he’d gathered himself, nearly convinced himself he had other things he should be doing instead, you were sharing ice creams outside Sam’s, to celebrate the first warm day of the year.

As if it wasn’t warm in Scarabia year round.

As if he hadn’t been too preoccupied by your happiness and enthusiasm to bring himself to heel.

Sometimes, it was all he could do not to be swept away by you, barely keeping his head above the surface.

So, what choice did he have but to act?

You’d made a home in his heart already, whether he asked for it or not.

All he could do was take control of what he could.

Eta: you can find part 4 here and part 5 / the final part here. Oh dear I'm starting to get tempted to write this from the reader's pov as well. Or maybe I'll just have to ramble about the thought process behind this at some point to get that out of my system. I also considered going to a more horny direction with this but decided to go with this kind of yearning in the end. But, if the horny version is of interest for y'all, maybe I can do that as an alternative / supplementary thing to this series, or some sort of a standalone at some point. Hope y'all enjoyed! One or two more parts are still to come. Tag list: @colliope @crystallizsch @diodellet @jamilsimpno69 @jamilvapologist @mazapanmiau @perilous-pasta @twstgo If you'd like to be tagged for any future works, do let me know! Also feel free to specify if you only want tags for particular kinds of works (like sfw/nsfw for example).

[loveelizabeths]

september

— love elizabeth s.

[ragazziamagix]

Reasons why I think season 2 was peak

Aisha's introduction to the group

she came to serve peak

Helia's introduction

he delivered beauty and romance

The pixies I actually like them

This episode of Riven supporting musa (epi 15)

you tell them Riven

Episodes 21 and 22 (I literally would love if the reboot would use more episodes like that

look at Riven serving looks

This Stella moment (go save Brandon u-u)

Friendship bonding! :D cute

Flora iconic daydream

dont worry girl your dream will come true

Iconic episode: Hallowinx!

Team Work at Cloud Tower, honestly the teamwork in general was peak in this season

This Stella and Aisha

THE VILLAINS! Darkar is SO underrated seriously I kinda wish on this fandom he was more discussed lol and obviously Dark Bloom forever iconic

THE ROMANCE, I really think season 2 had the best romantic moments ❤

The end ? Anyway s 2 is queen (because I can't even talk more, this season is just complete, good writing very nice villains great new characters that will stick for ever, team work delivered in more than just a few episodes... The action was good, the romance was sweet, and the fun episodes were great I think this season is where winx is at their best writing tho I understand why s 3 is the most loved ~ enchantix is the most iconic form)

[sincerely-sofie]

New ship dynamic: Guard Dog x Sacrificial Lamb.

It’s undying devotion to someone who was doomed from the start. It’s someone believing in you when you don’t believe in yourself.

It’s the desire to protect that rages and spits in the face destiny. It’s the desperation for a life with someone when you were born to die.

It’s the willingness to bloody your hands so that theirs remain unblemished. It’s a longing to be a person when you are meant to be a symbol.

It’s an insurmountable distance between you and your love the length of a pedestal, the length of columns that hold up the heavens, the length of that wretched gap between the divine and the mortal, the length of an altar that’s never quite been scrubbed clean when everyone knows it will only spill over with crimson again.

It’s asking yourself if you'd fight against fate for them and knowing that your answer has only ever been always.

It's asking yourself if you'd fulfill your destiny even if it means leaving them behind and wondering when your answer became never.

[somegurl8]

It feels so weird seeing my Tumblr and Twitter tls going crazy over the Riptide hiatus update and PD being on break still meanwhile I’m here like “the last thing Apotheosis related we’ve gotten has been the Thanny Nation shirt. While back they said they would do an Apotheosis bad ending What If but it has yet to exist. Omg Total Monster Kill soundtrack I still need to listen to that.”