#we just sleep in the same bed and live together and kiss once every couple days

[catboykills]

Nothing that I want more than a drunk sloppy makeout sesh rn

[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

[reminiscingtonight]

Sick Days

Alessia Russo x Reader

Word Count: 883

[WOSO Masterlist]

It’s the quiet shuffling that wakes you up.  Despite it being minute, it still grates against your ears. 

The wince is automatic, but the action only sets off more discomfort.

As consciousness starts slipping in, you start to notice how hot and stuffy you feel. Your head’s feeling fuzzy, muscles uncomfortably tender. 

A quiet groan escapes your mouth before you can stop it. All at once the shuffling stops. The air around you is still for a moment before you feel the bed dip beside you.

A gentle hand running through your hair has you cracking an eye open. 

“Less?” Despite all of your muscles protesting, you lift a weak hand to rub at your eyes. Squinting, you try to ignore the steady pain pounding in your head. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have a game or something?”

Your girlfriend frowns at you, not missing the grimace on your face. “I did. We won. Are you okay?”

It’s your turn to frown, ignoring the way the throbbing intensifies when you shake your head. “No, I literally just laid down and closed my eyes for a second, there’s no way--” you break off before finishing your sentence, eyes widening at the sight of your bedside clock. It read a harsh 9:13 PM, hours after you had originally laid down. You didn’t even realize how much time had passed.

“I missed the game?” This time there’s a slight waver in your voice, sadness starting to pool. In the couple years you’ve been together, you have never missed one of her games. Either watching them in person or on the television, you always made sure to catch it live.

“Baby,” Alessia starts, coming to sit down next to you. Her hand comes to your forehead, frown deepening when she feels the heat. 

Suddenly you jolt forward. Alessia nearly clashes her head against yours, but she jerks away last minute. There’s a slight crazed look in your eyes as you struggle to get out from under the sheets. “Wait, I was gonna make you some food and run you a bath before you got home!”

Alessia gently pushes at your shoulder, making sure to keep you in bed. “Babe, it’s fine. You’re obviously not feeling well.”

You open your mouth to protest, but a harsh round of coughs interrupt you before you can. You only just turn your head away in time to avoid coughing right into your girlfriend’s face.

A hand comes up to rub soothingly on your back as you whine out in discomfort. 

“Have you eaten yet?”

“I’m not hungry,” you mutter, knowing full well that Alessia’s going to force you to get up regardless of your answer. 

You could count on one hand the number of times you’ve gotten sick over the course of your entire relationship. Every time Alessia goes through the same procedure. She’ll run you a bath (ignoring your attempts to convince her you’re fine), force medicine down your throat (you really hated those pills), and then tuck you in with a loving kiss on your head.

There’s no use in protesting, so you let her drag you out of bed, albeit with a frown placed firmly on your face. Alessia rolls her eyes at your dramatics but helps you into the bathtub regardless. She ignores all of your protests that you should be the one pampering her after her game, but she shushes you, more than happy to give you a couple minutes of comfort that she knows will soon be overshadowed by the discomforts of your cold.

By the time Alessia dries you off and redresses you again, you’re pretty much half-asleep on your feet. You murmur sleepily against her neck when she carries you back to bed. 

The blankets are warm beneath your quickly cooling body, and you’re quick to burrow yourself into a nice little cocoon. Alessia’s shuffling around the room again but all you can focus on is the sweet call of sleep, gently dragging you back into unconsciousness.

Before you can fully slip back into dreamland, you hear a chuckle and then feel Alessia’s fingers dancing along the edge of your jaw. “Open.”

You know she’s talking about your mouth but you crack open an eye instead, mustering up all of your strength to glare at the pills in her hand. “You know it’s mean to force a sick person to do something they don’t want to.”

“Boo-hoo, love you too, but you’re still going to have to swallow these.” There’s amusement dancing in her eyes as she takes in your fake annoyance. 

You both know you’ll end up swallowing the pills anyways. You always do, if not just to make the excuse of needing Alessia to cuddle you afterwards.

After you’ve begrudgingly taken your medicine and Alessia has joined you in bed, you roll over to face her.

“Hold me?” Your voice is small, the exhaustion of being sick finally catching back up to you.

Alessia’s quick to tuck you against her chest, arms wrapping firmly around you. She presses a soft kiss against your forehead. “Sweet dreams, my pretty girl.”

You know the next couple days are going to feel like hell, but with the comforting feeling of Alessia everywhere around you, you slip off into a peaceful sleep.

[winstonsns]

Hii!! can you do johnny fic with reader where they’re cuddling and she tells johnny how much she appreciates him while falling asleep?

somethin’ stupid (request)

authors note: hope you enjoy!! sorry this is short again, i worked on this last night so im posting it way earlier than i normally do 💗

johnny x reader

word count: 0.9k

warnings: mentions of taking clothes off in front of each other but not suggestive

you and your boyfriend, johnny, were at the lot, sitting down on the grass and watching the stars. your head was on his shoulder and he realized you started to drift off into sleep, your head lowering and going back up every couple seconds.

he rubbed your back and moved into your sight, suggesting, “hey, y/n… it’s kind of late, do you think we should go home..?” and you slowly nodded, moving almost as if you were a sloth, closing your eyes once again.

he lightly patted your shoulder and got up from the ground, he held his hand out for you to grab and lift yourself up. you gently grabbed his hand and used your energy to plop up, him using his to bring you up.

it was quick, too quick to the point where you saw dots in your vision, static. you stood in your spot for a couple of seconds and closed your eyes, rubbing them. johnny was concerned and asked, “you okay?”

you replied and nodded, “yeah, i’m okay… just got up too quickly…” you thought for a moment before stating, “let’s go to my house, my parents won’t mind that you’re there.” you had previously told them you were going to see johnny and would stay out late, planning watching the stars together.

he held your hand, guiding you to the exit of the lot because you were feeling drowsy. although you knew the way to your house, johnny knew the way too, and walked in that direction while you followed. it was quiet the whole way, he didn’t want to annoy you or disturb how tired you were.

by the time the two of you arrived at your house, only the lights outside and the lights in the living room were on. you grabbed the keys in your pocket and put it in the keyhole, twisting it and opening the door. you twisted it in the opposite direction and pulled it out, walking inside and johnny following behind you.

you closed the door behind you, both of you taking your shoes off and leaving it by the door. you dropped the keys on the table next to the couches, turning the lights off in the living room and waking back to your boyfriend, gently grabbing his hand.

both of you walked up the stairs to your bedroom, you opened the door softly in attempt to not wake your parents up. you put your hand on johnny’s back and gently pushed him into your room, closing the door behind you.

because the both of you were in clothes you had been in for a long time, you walked over to your dresser and pulled out your matching pajama set. you took your clothes off, johnny glad that you were comfortable enough to do that around him. you looked back and smiled at johnny, mumbling, “remember when you left your sleepy clothes here…?”

he smiled at you, nodding, “that night was nice..” recalling the memories, the two of you playing card games but having to stay quiet because you didn’t want to wake up your parents. you pointed at a spot on your dresser, muttering, “they’re here, i kept them for you in case you would sleep over..”

you continued pulling your shirt over your head while your boyfriend walked over to the dresser, right next to you. he gently put his hand on your waist, giving you a kiss on the forehead, thanking you. he unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down, fully taking them off and putting on his pajama pants.

he walked over to your bed, flopping down on top of it and smelling your perfume on the pillows. he held it and closed his eyes, smiling at the memory of the two of you cuddling for the first time.

you walked over to the other side of the bed, pulling the sheets up and climbing under them, johnny doing the same. he cuddled up next to you, you began to spoon him, both of you feeling as if it was the most intimate moment the two of you had ever had.

even though hardly any words were exchanged that night, you began to whisper softly while playing with his hair, “i love you so much, johnny.. you’re the best guy i’ve ever met.. i love the way you talk about things and how excited you get.. the way you stand up for me and yourself, even though i can tell you get nervous sometimes.. i admire the way you love your friends and how you spend time with them.. your handsome smile and how it lights up the whole room.. your eyes.. i love everything about you. you’re the most important person to me.. thank you for making me want to be here, johnny..”

he opened his eyes even though it was dark, but he looked up to you anyway. your breathing seemed to have evened out, he realized you were asleep. he gently kissed your cheek before mumbling, “goodnight, y/n…” and you didn’t know that he reciprocated what you had said. he loved every part of you, as did you for him.

authors note: i kinda liked this i hope u guys do too!!

[talaok]

Hi🌻

Can you please write a pedro×reader where they are fighting really seriously and suddenly kisses the reader and things get spicy...

And if it's no bother can you please make it long

Pairing: Pedro pascal x reader

Warnings: angst and allusion to smut

11:32 pm

Another day, and another night alone.

Something was playing on the tv, but you had stopped paying attention a while ago.

The streetlamp across the street felt more interesting than anything a screen had to offer.

The road was deserted, and the house across from yours had all the lights off,

It's a Friday night, they're probably out. You can almost picture them at that cute bar in town, holding each other's hands while talking about their respective days. 

It must be nice, to be a perfect couple, to have someone to go home to every day, to not wake up and go to sleep in an empty bed.

But there you were.

Yes, you knew what you had gotten yourself into, you knew about the long hours, the need to move every six months, the hectic lifestyle, you knew about all of it... but still, nothing could have ever prepared you for the loneliness that came with it.

And what angered you was that maybe it wouldn't have been that bad, if he only talked to you once in a while, a real talk, a conversation starting with a simple "how are you doing?"

So that you could tell him how you were really doing.

But no, every time you were together now, you either had sex or both of you were too tired to finally have that conversation.

It had been a whole month now of that god-awful routine, and you were sick of it.

Tonight you were gonna talk, whether he wanted to or not

A click sounded to your left as the door opened.

"Hi," he said more like a question, a clear hint of his confusion.

You were never awake when he got home.

"Hi" 

"what are you doing up?"

You stood from the couch, as he took off his jacket and tossed it on the hanger.

"I was waiting for you"

"yeah?" he smirked, his eyes glinting with a suggestive tint.

"We need to talk"

"oh" he breathed, clearly disappointed "about what?"

You were now in front of him, taking in the scruffy beard that had just recently gotten some streaks of white matching his hair. 

The evidence of the years passed could be seen all across his face, except his eyes, of course, the same big hazel ones you fell in love with.

"Scarily expressive" you had told him the first time you met, and never a day had gone by that you hadn't stood by it.

You were sure that he could stop talking any day and his eyes would do the rest without any problems whatsoever.

And now, now what they conveyed was tiredness, mixed with confusion.

"You're never home Pedro" 

there, plain and simple.

He sighed now, getting where this was heading, he could have acted clueless all he wanted, but he too, knew this conversation was long overdue.

"Y/n I'm tired, can we do this another time?"

"When?" you scoffed "We never see each other! It's like I live alone Pedro, how do you think that makes me feel?"

"Listen it's not my decision, I have to work" he muttered, walking to the bedroom and leaving you behind like a useless piece of trash.

"I know it's not, but do you even try? How long has it been since you've taken a day off? Hell, even a morning off?" You trailed behind him.

Once again: You were gonna talk today.

"What would you rather I do? Stop working?" he asked, condescending as ever, turning to face you as he took his shoes off.

"No! I'm just saying you could try a little harder to be home more often"

"I was home yesterday!"

"Yeah at 5:30 pm and you invited Mike over"

"what's wrong with Mike being here?"

"Nothing just- we never have a moment to ourselves anymore"

"Well I'm sorry if I want to see my friends too"

"I'm not saying that you shouldn't, just- God, you never listen to me!" you snapped, throwing your hands to your sides

"When was the last time that we had breakfast together? Or that we went on a date, huh?"

This time he stayed silent

"exactly" you sighed "We're supposed to spend time together Pedro, for fuck's sake we're a couple!"

"Once again y/n, I have to work"

"Are you kidding me!?" you closed your fists by your side as you shut your eyes trying to calm down "Pedro have you listened to a fucking word I sai-"

What the fuck?

His lips were on yours.

"what are you doing?"

"Did you know you're really hot when you're mad?" he smirked, holding your waist

"shut up. I'm trying to have a serious conversation"

"nobody's stopping you" he murmured sultry, his mouth founding your neck.

God, you hated the whimper leaving your mouth

"A-All I'm trying to say is that you could try to be home more o-often"

"Mh-mh" he hummed against your neck, his beard scratching it ever so deliciously.

"Y-you're not-" you let out a sigh as he began sucking the skin beneath your ear "You're not listening to me"

"I am. go on" he urged, biting at your earlobe and causing a gasp to your throat.

"fuck-Pedro..." you warned 

"What sweetheart?" 

"I know what you're doing, t-this is not going to work"

And at that, the bastard chuckled, the vibrations of his voice going straight to your core.

"Funny you say that, baby," a wicked grin pulled at his lips as your eyes met his "'cause I think it already has"

"No it hasn't"

"no?" he whispered "Then how do you explain this?" he asked as his fingers reached the wet patch on your panties.

"God you're really..." you gritted, a mixture of anger and arousal coursing through you.

"What angel?" he ghosted your mouth "What am I?"

"you're an asshole"

A huffed laugh fled his mouth "And yet, you're gonna let me fuck you"

You bit your lip, trying to clear your mind

"We're still gonna talk later"

"Sure, sweetheart, whatever you want"

... 

(I just proof-read this and I realized I might have interpreted the request kind of wrong. You meant an enemies to lovers kinda thing didn't you? If you did I'm genuinely sorry)

[heartfullofleeches]

Let me try this again-

Can we have some more facts about Evan? Maybe about what a normal day is with him and monster reader? I just found him a few days ago and he's one of my new favorites of this blog ♡

For those who don't know, Evan is the Yan husband from this fic to which is married to a monster darling that dissolves and devours living things by use of the mouth in their neck-

-

A normal day for Evan and his lovely spouse starts around 6am. He leaves for work around eight, and just can't start his day without a little domestic bliss with the love of his life. Monster Darling is a bit grouchy as they are primarily nocturnal, but the lure of food usually gets them out of bed. Eating with them is one of his favorite things. It's so cute to see them attempt to eat like a regular human when he's reminded them time and time again it's okay to be their true self and put down the spoon. If they don't make a request, it's oatmeal most mornings for Reader. Eases the struggle of breaking down solid foods and a good source of protein. Evan mixes a tablespoon worth of his blood into the meal so their stomach can handle it better. He always lets them lick his bleeding cuts and re-bandage the wounds with cute little bandaids he picked up from the store which is the highlight of every morning.

Once he's off to work, Reader spends most of their day sleeping or picking up the few things Evan allows them to clean. He knows how much they need their rest, and does most of the house cleaning when he returns home or on weekends. The most he asks them to do is grab something things from the store for dinner. He takes frequent bathroom breaks to spy on them from the cameras around the house and practically sprints from his chair during lunch to eat with them over video call in a private area. Someone might think he hasn't seen them in six years rather the six hours it had actually been. Evan is a careful man, but he can't help but gush about his lover to coworkers who ask what's got him grinning like a fool.

Evan returns home around 9pm on most days. He tries to time it so Reader is fully awake and aware enough to reciprocate the kisses and hugs he smothers them with once he walks through the door. The couple eat dinner together, chatting about their days, and later venture off to the living room to watch something before bed or out to the budding garden Evan planted for them whenever they need a quick snack. He always makes a pit stop at the local flower shops before arriving with the juiciest roses he could find, but Reader mentions something about liking the taste of his more and his heart just melts-

They finally head upstairs to snuggle in bed when Reader warns him about staying up too late, and repeat the same routine tomorrow. Evan hates when they pretend to be something they're not, but Reader faking sleep to make sure he gets his rests helps him sleep like a baby

[imaginingaustin]

mother's day

summary: celebrating your first mother's day with austin and your baby.

requested by anonymous. s/n: "son's name"

becoming a mom changed the course of your life in more ways than you could have never imagined. your baby boy was the most beautiful baby in the world, and every time you looked at him, you saw the love of your life in his face. austin’s genes were much stronger than yours, and your baby was his spitting image. he had the same blue eyes, and the same curly blonde hair, but you loved it. you were beyond grateful to have them in your life. you and austin quickly fell into routine after your baby was born, and everything was perfect.

your first mother’s day was coming up, and you told austin that all you wanted was lazy day at home with your boys. of course austin, being the loving husband he was, was more than happy to oblige. you woke up late that morning, at almost 11AM. you reached out for austin, but found the bed empty next to you. you got out of bed and heard the television sounding from the living room. you walked out to the living room and found austin asleep on he couch, and your baby sleeping on his chest. you heard swelled at the sight, and you quietly moved over to the couch.

“austin.” you whispered, gently sitting on the couch next to him. 

“hey. good morning baby.” he said, sleep heavy in his voice.

“what are you doing out here?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair. 

“i wanted to let you sleep in and have the bed to yourself. it’s your day, and i just wanted you to be comfortable.” he said, sitting up slowly as to not wake the baby.

“have you been out here long?” you asked him.

“probably just a couple of hours. s/n woke up around nine, i changed him, fed him breakfast, and we’ve been out here since. he’s only been asleep about thirty minutes.” 

“what about you? have you eaten breakfast?” you asked him, and he shook his head. “alright, well i’ll get something together for us.”

“nope!” austin said, suddenly fully awake. “you take him, and i’ll take care of breakfast. today is your day, and i will be taking care of you.” he said, gently passing you the baby and moving towards the kitchen.

the rest of the day, austin was at your beck and call, getting you anything you could have possibly needed or wanted. truthfully, it felt like he was doing too much for you, but he made sure you knew that he didn’t mind.

you and austin sat on the couch eating breakfast together, watching whatever sitcom he had playing on the tv. you weren’t paying much attention to it, the both of you slowly starting to fall back asleep. the three of you napped on and off on the couch all day. every time your son would wake up or squawk, austin would immediately jump into action, taking care of him so you could stay asleep. 

later that night, as the night was ending and you were getting ready for bed. austin put the baby down for bed, and you were taking a bath. austin had bought you a number of different additives as a push present, an idea to help you pamper yourself after your long pregnancy journey. you were using the last of your bath bombs, and had candles lit around the rim of the tub. you were starting to fall asleep, when you heard austin walk into the bathroom.

“i love that he’s so easy to put to sleep.” austin chuckled as he sat down at the side of the tub. 

“he gets that from me,” you laughed. “i literally fall asleep anywhere.”

“so, i know you said you didn’t want anything, but i got you a gift anyway. but i’ll let you finish your bath before i give it to you.” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead before walking back out into the bedroom.

once you finished your bath, you dressed in your pajamas, and met austin back in the bedroom. he was laying in bed, and a small jewelry box was sitting on your pillow. you climbed into bed, and austin turned his attention to you.

“i had an idea for this while we were in the hospital after s/n was born. i remember sitting there and watching you hold him and thinking about how we were fully a family. i wanted to get you something that symbolized that, and have been working with a personal jeweler to get it perfect.

“a personal jeweler?” you asked raising a brow at him.

“one of the best ones i could find. i hope you like it.” he said, flipping the box open. inside sat a silver necklace of an infinity symbol, three gem stones in a line down the middle where it crossed - austin’s, yours, and your son’s birthstone.

“oh my god! this is beautiful!” you said through tears. you leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to austin’s lips before marveling at the necklace in your hands again. he pulled you into his arms and hugged you tight.

“i know the stones are kinda small, but i did that for a reason. i know it’s very early for us to be thinking about this, but if and when we have more kids, there’s enough room for more stones to be added.” he said, squeezing your shoulder.

“i love that.” you said, smiling at him. he pressed another kiss to your lips before taking the necklace from you and clasping it around your neck. 

“i’m glad you like it.” austin said as you turned to face him.

“i love it.” you emphasized. “thank you honey.” you said, kissing him again.

the two of you finally laid down for bed, falling asleep in each other’s arms. your first mother’s day was perfect, and exactly what you wanted; a wonderful lazy day with your boys.

[mshalfemptygirl]

Spit Your Love On Me (S.R)

Plot: Spencer Reader are having an enjoyable Saturday night that just might get better.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Contents: smut (oral sex male receiving) and fluffy, just a lovely couple loving each other. A bit of teasing, cause I like it.

A/N: Thank you so much for you guys liked my fics. I have 5 now and they are getting a lot of likes. Comment and Reblog them please, my heart melts with every interaction. I’ll let the link for Spencer Reid Masterlist in the end. Love y’all. Requests are open! Hope you like it! Oh, of course, Måneskin inspire me in this one, like always.

It was a typical Saturday night, Spencer and I have a tradition of watching a movie, cooking dinner afterwards, and talking about random things in our lives until three in the morning. And since it was late, he let me sleep here and he woke me up with kisses on my neck every Sunday morning.

We had been dating for four months and just being intimate enough to sleep in the same bed, we never had sex. It wasn't for lack of desire, we agreed not to rush with it and let it happen naturally. I tease him a lot for fun, he doesn’t complain ‘cos he knows that I would never force him to do anything he doesn't want to. By the way, everytime I call him “hot”, he blushes violently, it’s just too funny. We spend a lot of time in the kitchen today, cooking pasta and drinking wine, he has the gift of making simple everyday things cool. I don't know how people live without Spencer Reid by their side.

We were washing dinner dishes together, he washed and I dried everything, it was a system that worked and it may seem silly, but in those moments I felt close to him.We get stuck in our world and nothing else matters. He looked at me all the time, once, he told me that looking at me was like looking at the goddess Aphrodite. In fact, that I was much prettier than her. What a lie. 

I had already dried everything and put it away, just missing the wine glasses he was washing. Spencer was a tall man and I was a short woman, but I was glad that today I was wearing high-heeled boots that made one have quicker access to the back of his neck. Slowly, I arrived from behind, put my hand on his waist and kissed the back of his neck, he shivered in reaction.

"Baby, I'm going to end up breaking the glass," I chuckled. He was the most precious thing in this world. "Sorry, it's just that I miss you", he finished washing the glass, closed the tap before saying,"But you saw me yesterday and the day before yesterday . We spend a lot time together". I gave him another kiss on the back of his neck “I know but it's not enough, I've always wanted you all to myself, all the time".

He turned to me and placed an icy hand on my face, I melt with every touch of yours, sometimes I feel like a porcelain doll that can break at any moment. "Spence, I love you so much, you know that, right?!", he smiled. I will never get tired of this view, his face brings me peace and his presence comforts me, it's only been four months together but it seems so much longer. "I love you too, very much."

And his gaze drifted towards my lips and I knew what I should do, I kissed him and honestly, his kisses always awaken something in me, it looks like that with each kiss I gain more years of life. After several wet kisses he suddenly stopped, he looks uncomfortable and and his cheeks gradually gained a shade of pink, something that was not uncommon to see. He turned his face away.

"Baby, are you alright?", he shook his head. "Something's wrong, tell me." He looked into my eyes, I watch him bit his bottom lip, he was nervous. “Pff, this situation is embarrassing. I'm little...excited, you know?" I frowned. I didn't understand. Excited??? Wait, he was aroused. Because of me. Gezz! "Baby, were you telling me you're hard ‘cause of me?".

"Yes, I am. This situation is pretty embarrassing. I think it’s better go take a cold shower, sorry.", he started to move however I stopped him. It seemed too cruel if I didn't help him now, I wanted to please him, I wanted to taste him, I wanted to finally have an intimate moment with the man I loved. I didn't filter my next words, they came out of my mouth faster than lightning, I couldn't contain my desire.

"Spencer, wait. This doesn't have to be embarrassing, I can help you. I know we promised not to rush things but I want to make you feel good, I want this. Let me help you, I get down on my knees now if you want but only if you say you want to. Let me taste you.", I could see his innocent eyes turn black, I knew how much he loved the audios and how my tease could get to him and confessing that I wanted to get on my knees for him, made him immobile, going over what I said in your head over and over like a song.

"Spence? My love?!", He blinked his eyes and took a deep breath, I was tense. Whatever his command was, I would do it. "I want this, please, I need you", he confessed to me, it felt like he was telling me a secret that had been kept for a long time. Then, I gave him a soft kiss that natually became a needy kiss. I went down to his neck, giving kisses and licking his skin, I know that teasing is something important in intercourse and I wanted him to have a good experience.

I unbuttoned his shirt and trailed kisses down the V line and looked up, he was aware of my every move. "Can I go on, love?" he shakes his head. “Love, I need words”, I want hear it, consent is key for this to work, for it to be good for both me and him. It is the basics that every human being should know. “Yes, baby”.

I took off his belt and lowered his pants, his underwear was white and was already marked with his pre-cum. I placed a kiss on his cock over the fabric. "Please angel, I can’t wait any longer", he whimpered, my love is so needed. I laughed, he was desperate for this. "Calm down love, we have plenty of time. And oh, I want to hear your moans, so don't be shy", next I took his underwear off, I was trying to be very gentle with him, I wanted to go step by step, very slowly.

I went from bottom to top before popping his cock into my mouth, Spence let out a loud groan, feeling the pleasure take over your body. It was the best thing I've ever heard in my life. Gradually I increased the pace, he threw his head back and held tight to the kitchen counter. I felt his body vibrate under my touch, so I decided to tease him a bit.

"Do you like it, babe? Have your cock in my mouth? Such a good boy” he moaned again, he whispers a lot of "yes, yes, yes" and I went back to what he was doing, feeling proud of it. Seeing him get messed up for me is wonderful, I love him so much and would do anything for my boy. Not much time later, he looked me in my eyes to say, "I'm almost there, Y/N, let me cum. Please.".  Fuck, it would be so good to taste him. I took it out of my mouth again, never stopping my hand movements "Come for me, love, I’m waiting for it for so long", I intensified the movements and he yelled my name before spitting his love in my face. He was out of breath and so was I, and my makeup was ruined. He will be the death of me.

"Did you liked it, Spence?", On his face he had a smirk when he saw my painted face, behind that little angel face, there's a very dirty mind that I really want to explore. I can imagine the possibilities."Yeah, I'm in heaven, your mouth is so good. Just so fucking good. And I messed up your makeup, I'm so sorry."

I got up from the floor, trying to wipe my face with my hand, now the one who looked like a mess was me "Oh come on, I know you weren't sorry about that. I hope you liked it because the day I have you inside me, then you'll be in heaven", I finished with a soft kiss on his lips, I could spend hours doing this with him, I would never get tired of it. Afterwards, we went to the bathroom to clean up the mess we made in the kitchen, and after today, we're going to do more than sleep in that bed.

Talk to me

Spencer Reid Masterlist

A/N: let me know if you want me to tag you

TAG

@thebloomingeagle

[gennyanydots]

This is love I just can’t live without Ch. 11

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x f!kazansky!reader (affectionately often called “Baby Ice”)

This is love I just can’t live without masterlist

Top Gun biker!au

Chapter summary: You can't believe you ever left her behind

Chapter trigger warnings: none I don't think?

Ch. 11 “It’s worse when I’m alone” 

The next day and a half was spent wrapped up in the safety of Carole Bradshaw. She didn’t want to let you out of her sight in case you left without notice again. 

Neither of you spoke about what had happened between you and her son either before or now. It was just simply not brought up in any way shape or form. In fact Bradley didn’t spend much time at his childhood home after he dropped you off, Carole shooed him out of the house while you were crying on her shoulder and told him to make himself scarce. He didn’t put up a fight, knowing not to go against his mother’s request. You didn’t see him again until that evening. In the afternoon while helping her prepare dinner, Carole informed you that Bradley and your father were coming over soon to have a proper family dinner. When you were kids weekly family dinners happened once a week either at your house or Bradley’s, depending on who’s week it was. Oftentimes your uncles were also in attendance when you were younger but that wasn’t the case for your first family dinner in five years. 

To say the evening was awkward would have been an understatement. Carole tried to get everyone to talk together while your father just grunted responses. Bradley answering his mother was hit or miss and a couple times when she was waiting for an answer from him you had to kick him to get his attention for her. 

Family dinner didn’t last too long after the actual dinner was done. Your father refused to let Carole or you do the dishes since you both cooked so he made Bradley help him while you sat in the living room with Carole. After the dishes were clean your father said he needed to be up early to open the shop so with a kiss to your forehead on his way out the door he informed Bradley he would also be opening the shop so he’d better be there on time. Bradley had never been a morning person so he wanted to get to bed as soon as possible and tried to walk to his bedroom but Carole was having none of that. 

“But mom, it's MY room!” 

Carole rolled her eyes, “And you have another place to stay so march it, kiddo!"

Bradley huffed, “It’s not like we couldn’t share a bed. Wouldn’t be the first time. She slept in my bed last night..."

“Bradley, I love you now leave,” Carole said with a sigh as she pointed at the door. 

Bradley grumbled as he bent down to kiss his mother on the cheek then walked to you and did the same on his way out the door. 

The rest of the evening was spent watching terrible reality tv shows with Carole, as those were her favorite, eating so many snacks with her that when Carole finally let you go to bed, your stomach hurt a little bit.

Sleeping in Bradley’s bed for the second night in a row had been a little surreal to you. You don't even know how many times you've slept in this exact spot before. That's without mentioning all the other times you've been in this bed. With Carole being a single mother and working long hours, Bradley and you had a lot more freedom at his house than at yours. Not that you didn't think your mother was oblivious to what was going on at the Bradshaw household when Carole wasn't home. Your mother always seemed to have an answer for every time your father questioned what you were doing over there without Carole being home.

"Tom, they have a math test tomorrow. Leave them alone."

"Thomas, how could you forget that they have a science project due on Friday?"

"If you don't leave the children alone, I swear to God, Thomas. It's like you don't remember being their age."

Bradley's smell surrounded you as you laid in the bed, especially since you grabbed one of his shirts out of the closet to sleep in. Sure you could have ran home and grabbed something but it was easier to just borrow something of Bradley's. It definitely wasn't because wearing his shirt made you feel calmer, safer even. Definitely not because of that. You'd also definitely never admit that once again sleeping in Bradley's bed ended up being the second best night of sleep you've gotten in quite some time.

The following morning Carole dragged both you and Natasha out to brunch then a nail appointment informing the two of you that it was necessary for all of your mental health. The three of you knew what the next day was bringing and nobody wanted to mention it, almost like speaking it out loud would ruin the bubble you had surrounded yourself in because maybe, just maybe, if you didn't talk about your mother's funeral it wouldn't happen at all.

[notyour-valentine]

Hi! Congratulations! Would you please write headcanon about Tommy from TBITW showing affection to (Y/N) when they officialy became a couple? We know he is not the most affectionate person in the world but he has his ways and it's usually sweet and heartwarming. I'm also curious how children would react to them showing their feelings/affections to one another. I mean in the series they didn't do it in front of them, they didn't kiss or anything like that. I have a feeling like Charlie would be a little bit jealous of his father being too close physically to (Y/N). I don't know, I would like to know how you see this. Thank you so much for your writing!

🍷Join me for a Drink 🍷 - TBITW: Reaction to PDA

[Celebration] [Celebration Masterlist] [Masterlist]

This was written as part of my Series The Boy in the Window and contains spoilers

There isn’t some kind of big cataclysmic shift after their return from France, after all, they are already living together and very little changes in their daily routine for the children. Tommy goes back to work and is away for most of the day during the week. (Y/N) and him are also not the type of people who make out at the front door when he returns. Instead, there are far more kisses on cheeks and long embraces, especially after yet another hard, long day. So all in all these moments, even with the added frequency of her running her hand through his hair or them sitting closer on the sofas, it isn’t too far from what the children had gotten used to. 

Until it comes to sleeping arrangements. 

A house like Arrow House has two grand bedrooms, one for the owner of the House and a separate one for his wife, as aristocratic couples tended to sleep apart. Tommy used to share the Grand Bedroom with Grace. He gave the other one, the one closest to the nursery, to (Y/N) when the children moved back upstairs. So once they had made their decision, Tommy changes bedrooms to be with her. 

Both children, whenever they wake up at night, had a tendency to sneak into her bed just like they had back in Small Heath or Warburton House. 

That is when they both begin to notice Tommy’s constant presence (to be fair, it is difficult to miss). 

And Charlie isn’t too keen on that. The children know they can come for nightmares, but that they should try to sleep in their own beds, so he doesn’t understand why his father gets to sleep in her bed every night - it’s simply unfair. 

So he tries to push in, not at nighttime, but during the day. When he sees the two sitting on the sofa together, he will snuggle right in between them, drawing his legs up for extra measure before leaning his head in her lap, or insisting on holding her hand too if he sees his father doing it. 

He doesn’t understand why Emma isn’t bothered by it- isn’t she scared that she might one day not have enough hugs and kisses left for all of them if his father keeps taking up all of them?

It is Emma who tells her mother of Charlie’s concern, which is both a cause for relief and worry. Obviously, both her and Tommy knew something was off with Charlie, and knowing it wasn’t something irreparable removed a certain cause for anxiety but both felt incredibly bad for letting Charlie think that way. Tommy wanted to speak to him at once, but it is (Y/N) who does. 

She finds Charlie and the two of them curl up on the sofa together with him laying down on her chest and her arms wrapped around him. 

Charlie doesn’t really want to talk about all these very strong feelings, the anger and the fear, but he does listen. He listens closely while (Y/N) explained that there were different kinds of love that could happen at the same time and that love, like hugs and kisses, wasn’t like a cake that gets cut up and given away never to return but something one can give as much away as one wanted to and that there would always be enough left, like fruit on a tree that kept growing back.

“Nothing is going to make me love you any less, Charlie, and there will always be enough hugs and kisses for you.”

He is very clingy for the next few days, but no longer tries to squeeze in between her and his father. He is afraid of everything he has, everything he didn’t have before, slipping away. But trust, like that sense of security, comes in time. So instead of stopping his father from all the hugs and kisses, he just runs to claim and give some of his own. 

Bonus fact:

Jealously and perhaps even possessiveness turns into protectiveness with age and that never ceases.  

Thank you so much for participating in my celebration - I hope you like it.

If you want to join in, click here to find out everything you need to know!

~

Taglist

Overall

@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @chlorrox @watercolorskyy @books-livre @quarterpastmidnight  @lilyevanswhore  @polishcrazyone  @zablife  @just-a-harmless-patato  @stevie75 @flyingjosephine-blog @runnning-outof-time @babayaga67

Tommy

@knowledgefulbutterfly @babayaga67 @signorellisantichrist 

@lespendy @geeksareunique @look-at-the-soul

[likecastle]

Ronance Femslash February - “do you really have to go?”

Thank you so much to the lovely anon who sent in the prompt “do you really have to go?”  I’m so delighted that some of you have sent prompts my way! Please keep them coming! (Anon asks are totally fine! You’re welcome to send more than one, if you want! And, for the record, I’m pretty open about subject matter. If a prompt isn’t something that works for me I may give it a miss, but chances are I won’t be offended. Don’t be shy!) You can find previous prompts I’ve filled here.

“Do you really have to go?” Nancy murmurs into Robin’s hair, and all at once, for the first time in a long time, she’s reminded of the day she stood in Jonathan’s empty bedroom, wishing he could camp out in her parents’ basement. She’s always felt that the Byers family moving to California was the beginning of the end for her and Jonathan, though it took a long time to recognize what should have been obvious to both of them. If she’s being honest with herself, which she tries to do these days, the fault lines were there long before Jonathan left—in her insistence that he always put her first, in the idea he had of her that reality could never quite live up to, in all the things they couldn’t say to one another—but even though she knows it’s more complicated than that, some part of her still believes the distance was to blame for the rift that grew up between them.

It worried her, when she and Robin decided to give the thing that was blossoming between them a shot. Nancy worried that their relationship would never have a fighting chance if they only saw each other once every couple of months, if they only talked over the phone. Some part of her is still worried, every time Robin gets on the bus heading back to Bloomington, every time she glances at Robin waving goodbye in her rear-view mirror. Because the thing is, she really wants this to work—even more than she realized when she first kissed Robin over Thanksgiving break of their sophomore year. She wants to make a life with Robin, and she doesn’t want to fall prey to the same mistakes she’s made before.

“Don’t tell me you fell asleep on me,” Robin is saying, and Nancy realizes that she’s been talking this whole time. Robin prods Nancy in the ribs—gently, but her elbows are perilously sharp. “I’m over here whispering sweet nothings to you on our last night together until winter break, and you’re catching up on your beauty sleep? Seriously, Wheeler?”

Nancy groans, and pulls Robin closer against her chest, as much to forestall any further attempted elbowing as to bask in the scent of Robin’s skin, sweat and the ghost of incense and her herbal shampoo. “I wasn’t asleep,” she says against the knob of Robin’s spine. “Just thinking.”

Robin nestles closer, a luxurious cat-like stretch against her. “Oh, yeah?” she asks, and her voice is still teasing, but soft, so very soft. “What about?”

“You,” Nancy admits. She’s tempted to say something provocative, to distract Robin by sliding her hands from her waist down to her hips, but she doesn’t let herself. “D’you ever wish one of us had changed our plans? That I’d transferred to IU, maybe? Or taken some time off to figure things out together?”

She can feel the change in Robin’s body, the way the languid ease disperses from her limbs. “Honestly?” she asks, sounding serious.

This is what Nancy gets for asking, she tells herself. It might not be an answer she likes, but that’s the risk of being honest with each other, of trying, at least, to really talk to each other. “Always.”

“I like how things are right now.” She feels one of Robin’s hands settle over hers, her thumb rubbing slow circles across the backs of her knuckles. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I am very much looking forward to living together some day, and sleeping in the same bed with you every night and having, like, so many arguments about whose turn it is to do the laundry or whatever. But we’re good like this. I’m glad we both have the space to be stupid college students, and I also I love getting letters from you that I have to wait to read until I’m alone. You’re a really good writer, by the way, have I ever mentioned that?”

“Maybe once or twice,” Nancy says, smothering her smile against Robin’s skin.

“I guess what I’m saying is, I like that we can be apart, but no matter where we go, or how long we go without seeing each other, I always want to come back to you.” Robin lifts one of Nancy’s hands to her lips and kisses it gently. “OK?”

“OK,” Nancy whispers, blinking against the sudden sting in the corners of her eyes. And that’s enough, Nancy decides—more than enough.

[haztobegood]

It Was Always You

Happy 28th! Here is a collection of fics where Harry and Louis are meant to be together in every universe and at any time. Remember to leave the authors comments and kudos when you read!

✨ Raconteur. by cjmrecs G, 1K, Established Relationship, Story-Telling, Sleepiness

louis can't sleep and harry tells him stories.

✨ Hearts with one purpose alone by tigriswolf G, 3k, Soulmates, Canon Compliant, Dreams

The thing of it is that Harry's been waiting for years by the time he trips into the toilet and sees the boy washing his hands.

✨ The sweetest devotion I've known by insufferablelovebirds @twoweekslhome​ NR, 6k, Soulmates, Fake Dating, Witchcraft

a fake boyfriend AU with a twist

✨ You Turned Up (Like a Friend of Mine) by @lululawrence​ NR, 10k, Parallel Universes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fanfiception

The one where Harry disappears on graduation day only to show up on Louis' door looking exactly the same ten years later. Through a series of strange events, maybe they can finally figure out that they're destined to be together, no matter what.

✨ Veni, Vidi, Amavi by @fallinglikethis​ E, 10k, Soulmates, Ghosts, Pining

Harry remembers why he stayed now, why he’s always had that feeling of waiting. He was holding out for Louis, his soulmate. He was keeping his promise.

✨ Waiting For Daylight by @dinosaursmate​ E, 12k, Parallel Universes, Friends to Lovers, Fanfiception

Louis wakes up to find that his best friend has never existed. In a quest to find him, Louis is sent to several parallel universes. He can't seem to find his own Harry, and he doesn't understand why every alternate Harry wants to kiss him.

✨ Can you hear these dreams? (Calling out your name, can you hear them?) by larrycaring @mystupidamours​ G, 15k, Twin Flames, Reincarnation, Prince Louis

After visiting an ancient royal castle in France, Harry is haunted by the portrait of a young man who seems familiar beyond explanation.

✨ Every Lonely Place by HamPalpert @ham-palpert​ E, 38k, Soulmates, Time Travel, Proposal

Facing the fact that he’s been prioritizing his career over his relationship, Harry proposes to his longtime boyfriend Louis on a whim. But when yet another work emergency takes precedence over their plans, Louis decides he’s had enough.  Harry goes to bed drunk and alone, and when he wakes, he finds himself in an entirely different world.  Over and over again, Harry visits a lifetime he’s once lived, across time and dimensions.  And wherever there’s a Harry Styles, there’s a Louis Tomlinson.

✨ Take The World By Storm by @reminiscingintherain​ M, 56K, Soulmates, X-Factor Era Canon Divergence, OT5 Friendship

Maybe the X Factor wasn't the first time Louis and Harry had met. Maybe it was always meant to be, unavoidable in the universe. And maybe it happened a little bit differently than we think it did.

✨ The Garden Series by throwthemflowers @hazzabeeforlou​ E, 57K+ (WIP), Biblical Reinterpretation, Reincarnation, Historical AU

Through many centuries and reincarnations, the same fate always binds Louis and Harry’s souls together… an AU mirroring the parallel stories of David, Jesus, and Adam in the Bible, the three “Christ-like” figures in Biblical history.

✨ of lost things by @dehydratedpool​ E, 58k, Reincarnation, Greek Mythology

Louis comes with a familiarity Harry has never felt with anyone else before. After their fateful meeting, their chemistry became undeniable, and soon after, Harry had felt like he hit the jackpot when it came to finding the person he would spend the rest of his life with. But all relationships come with their own unique problems, and Harry soon realizes that their relationship is no different. When their problems go from unordinary to nearly bizarre in nature, he takes it upon himself to find an answer to their troubles. What he stumbles upon are terrifying coincidences between his and Louis’ story, and the ill-fated mythological couple, Orpheus and Eury. But it’s all they are; just coincidences, ones that feel as frighteningly familiar as Louis. Except… what if none of this is a coincidence? What if everything Harry has always seen as fiction is true, and myth—or rather, history, is about to repeat itself?

[songofsoma]

My Drengr

fandom: assassin’s creed valhalla pairing: f!eivor x randvi words: 1,598 rating: general

read it on ao3

The fire in the hearth was dwindling, bathing the room in the dim light that cast exaggerated shadows crawling up the wall where the light still reached. It was just enough for Randvi to see was she was doing. She did not want to break away to stoke the flames and restore her full sight. Not when a wounded Drengr sat before her.

Eivor returned with the setting of the sun. She and her crew had looked worse for wear. Many were bloody and battered with sullen demeanors from a raid gone awry.

Randvi had been there on the dock, waiting for them to dismount. The children had seen the boat approaching and ran through the settlement to announce the arrival of their Raiders. Joy smoldered into concern at the sight.

Spouses ushered their warriors from the docks to tend to wounds and soothe bruised egos. The ones who weren’t coupled shuffled into the barracks together. Nothing seemed fatal at first glance and the same number of people that had left were present. That in itself was a win.

“What happened?” Randvi asked when Eivor approached her.

Her mouth twisted into a frown, the movement pulling at the scar on her cheek. It was something Randvi always found endearing. How many times had she dreamed about running her finger along its length, feeling the marred skin, and hearing the story of how it came to be once more. “We were ambushed.” She crossed her arms, drawing Randvi’s attention from her face to the dried blood and torn sleeve. “It was as if they were expecting us and had prepared more men than we had planned for—more than we could dispose of.”

She ushered Eivor to follow her as they set off in the direction of the Longhouse. “What matters is that you’re safe. You and the others have returned with your lives. That is something to be grateful for.”

Eivor grunted. She was limping slightly, favoring her left leg. “Yes, but that still doesn’t excuse our failure.”

Randvi sighed, her boots crunching along the dirt path. “We can discuss that more later. You are injured.” She nodded to the obvious wounds on her arm.

“I can tend to them myself,” she insisted.

“You will do no such thing.”

People greeted them as they entered the Longhouse, forcing Eivor’s protests to be silenced. Too often she adopted solitude, especially when a day turned sour. She would shoulder the blame like it was somehow her fault that someone had known where they were planning on raiding. She would convince herself she could have been better, braver, stronger when she was already the epitome of those traits in Randvi’s eyes.

For once, she wished for Eivor to allow someone else to look out for her, even if it was something as small as tending her wounds.

Besides, Randvi had missed her terribly.

Watching the waters take her Wolf-Kissed away was brutal and it never got easier. At night, she would lay in her bed and not think about her husband who had been away for many moons, but at the blonde Valkyrie that had plagued her mind from the day she had laid eyes on her. She would dream of embracing her on days like this when she’d come home after days or weeks or months of plundering and making a better life for her people. She would smell of salt and blood and glory. She would taste divine and feel divine as Randvi wrapped her in a kiss, desperate to express just how much she had missed her. Yes, every time Eivor left, a little piece of Randvi went with her.

But she could do none of those things and she could not voice the images that kept sleep at bay. Or how she would wake in the night glistening with sweat and chest heaving as the space between her thighs ached for the lover that existed in only her dreams.

Randvi had turned her gaze after insisting Eivor strip off her tunic so she could dress her wounds. It was partly out of respect while also acting as a way to mask the heat blossoming over her cheeks. She had seen Eivor in less before. There was a night when the Wolf-Kissed had one too many drinks and bared herself to the party before a flustered Randvi could wrap her in a tablecloth. She had never lived that one down.

But something about this was much more intimate. Perhaps it was the lack of mead flowing in their veins. Randvi suspected it was her own foolish heart and the insistence of her taking care of Eivor.

Fabric shifted from behind her as Randvi gathered a bowl of water and cloth as well as necessary medical supplies. She was no Valka, but she could bandage wounds just fine.

Incense was burning on a nearby table, its woody scent filling the room. She breathed it in to try and steady herself as she turned around. Any grounding that may have been achieved was quickly lost at the sight of Eivor hunched over the side of her bed.

She wore little else than the bindings of her breasts and trousers rolled up past her knees. The waistband dipped dangerously low, the ties having been undone for her comfort. Lines of harsh muscle were painted gold from the light of the fire and the blood that stuck to now golden skin contrasted is sickly splotches. Eivor looked like one of the oil paintings they looted from kings and lords. Randvi wished she possessed that talent to capture her beauty to hang on her wall. Alas, she would have to settle on savoring the memory.

Randvi came to stand beside her, placing the bowl on the nearby table. She dunked the cloth, wringing out excess water before taking Eivor’s forearm to inspect the slash on her bicep. To her relief, it wasn’t too deep. With proper dressings and hygiene to avoid infection, it would fade into the mirage of scars already littering pale skin.

Eivor hissed when Randvi dabbed at it, wiping away blood until the water was pink. She had to keep herself from leaning forward and swallowing the sounds of pain with a kiss, to promise her everything would be alright, to tell her how well she was doing.

Instead, she settled on a simple sentiment. “I was worried for you.”

Eivor glanced at her quizzically. “Why?”

“I always worry for you.” Her brows knitted together. This wasn’t the play she should’ve made. It teetered dangerously close to the truth buried in her heart.

She said nothing for a long while, choosing to simply stare at Randvi while she wrapped thick cotton around Eivor’s arm.

“I think of you, every day.”

Randvi’s gaze shot up in surprise. “What?”

Eivor smiled shyly, trying to play it off with a casual shrug. “I enjoy our time together and miss it when I am absent. My crew tries their best, but none can fill the void of your company.”

Her heart was pounding in her chest. Randvi’s fingers trailed down her arm, brushing over the back of Eivor’s hand, feeling the raised skin where runes were inked into it. The touch was so light and hesitant like it wasn’t even there. 

Randvi quickly regained herself, clearing her throat as she stood to rinse out the rag in the water fogged with blood. She had to busy herself before she got tied up in the fantasies living in her mind.

Eivor pulling her into a kiss. Falling back onto the soft mattress. The weight of her body pressed against her own and the heat of her skin seeping through Randvi’s clothes.

She clenched her jaw.

Eivor cherished her friendship. There was nothing more to it. She had to stop reading into every little word.

“Where else are you injured?” she asked, nearly cringing at the way her voice shook.

Eivor peered up at her, blue eyes blazing against the coal smudged around them. “My calf, but I can do it on my own. Really.”

Randvi knelt before her, watching the way blonde lashes cast thin shadows over her angled cheeks. Her hands slid up her leg, the hair tickling her fingers until she felt the accumulation of dried gore. “Can you turn to the side?”

She complied, revealing the ugly slash on the back of her leg. “Axe,” Eivor explained unprompted. “Bastard got me while laying on the ground. I didn’t jump fast enough.”

It was the same process as before. Clean the wound, check for infection, and dress it—all while trying to ignore the loveliness of her physique.

“Keep the bandages dry and change them in a few hours. I will have Valka bring salves to aid the healing,” Randvi said, wiping off her hands with a vaguely clean corner of her cloth. “Although you will need to bathe soon, you smell rank.” Her lips tilted into a playful grin.

Eivor rolled her eyes but chuckled. “Fighting an army of men will yield that result.”

She gathered her things. “Yes, well, if you should need anything. I will be close by.”

And as she was making to slip out of the room, Eivor called her name.

Randvi turned, hand pressed against the archway. 

“Thank you.”

“Of course, my Drengr.” The possessiveness added to the title made her face heat. Eivor’s eyes widened a fraction in surprise, but a smile formed on her lips as well.

Randvi left in a hurry, afraid if she lingered any longer her traitorous tongue would become her undoing. 

[pisspope]

cat ive got couple coming right up

🐶💕(this one esp)💚💤🌟💋🛡

and the last but not least✅whos the housewife of the household (aka does all the cooking and cleaning and will look stunning in a backless apron)

speak i listen 🎤🎤🎤

oh for u mae? anything

🐶: If you and your f/o were to get a pet, what would it be?

Okay so in canonverse we have two rats that are retirees from a marleyan science experiment. one of ems got a piece of ear missing and the other is mostly blind but zeke likes to set them on his shoulders while he reads the paper. Sees them as kindred spirits (Beast being used for science experiments and all), also jokes about them having the same amount of time left (rats only live about two years). Which... jeez zeke. Hilarious but jeez.

In modern aus we have a kid named Xavier and until she's able to speak we call her our pet but otherwise?? Too busy. Might get a cat in our later years though.

💕: Who’s the clingier one in the relationship?

it's zeke he's soooooo whiny. like once ur his person u r His Person and he will not let you forget it for a second. gets out of work or some activity early and is calling you up like "why aren't you homeeeeee I wanna watch tvvvvvv". Not physically clingy but verbally and emotionally clingy. Sends u a text and then sends "🥺" every five minutes until you respond.

💚: Who gets jealous?

BOTH. we both act like we're hot shit but also secretly think the other person is settling. I keep it on the dl then get a little buzzed and say "do u like [person] better than me be honest 👉👈🥺" and he has to reassure me that no, now and forever everyone but me can suck eggs. zeke will get fake jealous because I think it's sexy ("saw u waving at the mailman today. fucking tart." then we [redacted][redacted][redacted]), but also gets actually jealous specifically when I talk about my thing for older men. Def have a come-to-ymir moment in the idol au after I flirt too much with label director Zachary if u catch my drift.

💤: Do you sleep together? If so, describe your sleeping positions and patterns (E.g. who steals the blankets, are either of you insomniacs, etc.)

So we do sleep in the same bed but,,,,,, our sleep schedules are insanely fucked. Like it's been known to happen on occasion that I go to bed before midnight and he doesn't wake up at 4 AM to eat a cheese stick and crash on the couch watching markiplier but it's rare. actually a boon in aus where we have a kid or two because one of us is usually up at any point during the day or night to answer inane requests. both sleep in fetal position backs to each other asses touching bc if I see his bits or he sees mine it's on sight ://// horn dogs :///

🌟: Who’s the tease in the relationship?

Me :) although he stone faces his way through it in public. second we're home though teehee I'm in danger (affectionate). 100% a pants wearer so the second I walk out of the bathroom in a skirt he knows I'm gonna be flirty and obnoxious all fucking day. eyes rolling into the back of his head but he secretly enjoys it.

💋: Where are your favorite places to kiss your f/o/where are their favorite places to kiss you?

I like to smooch him right underneath his jaw where his beard is sparse so I can kiss and then pull at the longer stubble so he yelps. also kissing his stomach and pulling at his chest hairs, a little mean and a little sweet at the same time.

hes an inner thigh kisser and biter no doubt in my damn mind. also likes pressing kisses to the lips down there idk idk idk

🛡: Who’s the more protective one?

hmm see this is a tough call because it's kind of neither? we're pretty independent of one another so we end up holding our own a lot. I do have a tendency to just lay down and take it when someone's mean though so if zekes in the room when that happens? oh I pity whoever spoke ill of me. but this is only if I'm in the room and its more of him defending me because I didn't stick up for myself, like if someone were to talk shit and I weren't there? He'd probably just shrug it off or even chuckle and agree. So yeah. Cake is not winning a chivalry contest any time soon.

✅️: Who does the housework?

Trick question because Zeke does the chores to the best of his ability in a little "May the Forks Be With You" Star Wars apron but his best is my half-assed. so he does the chores and I thank him soooo much then while he sleeps or does work I pick up the detail work. type to glass clean all the windows but not dust all the surfaces ynow. neither of us can cook tho :/ zeke boils hot dogs and expects a compliment for using the stove

[my-dear-my-love-my-best]

(I'm a she/her, my ex tc is too)

She taught me for one year. I absolutely fell in love with her for the first sight. I told her when she stopped teaching me. We took a break and started talking again in the hallways. I went there for four years.

During these four years we gradually talked more and more. Once I was dating a girl and she said she was glad i was able to move on. I dated that girl for 15ish months, the whole time was a struggle.... She was the best I could have asked for, and yet I wasn't in love.

She had been complaining that she didn't have nice rings

(I have been to hers lots of times even when I was attending the school she teaches at) When I left that school, we kept in touch; we talked regularly at least once a week, one hour long conversations, almost always late in the evening. About 2-3 year later, she asked me to have a coffee date at hers, to talk. We talked about a lot of things, she brought up her ex husband (they divorced when they were still young) and I mentioned my ex. We were sipping wine and it was getting late.

Her: why did you two break up?

Me: didn't work out.

Her: you were a lovely couple together, I'm sorry.

Me: *just silent and didn't look into her eyes*

Her: did she do anything I should know? Did she hurt you?

Me: no she was nice. Lovely actually, I just wasn't in love.

Her: *just staring at me and didn't say anything* you can stay, if you want to. (I was already staying with friends, not my parents that time)

I had known her for 6-7 years by then and I never really got over her but had several flings and a full on relationship.

When I had had a shower she was still sitting in the living room, watching some stuff in the tv. I laid in her lap and she started stroking my hair and back immediately.

Her: can I ask you something? You don't have to answer and whatever you're answer is, it won't change anything.

Me: yes.

Her: you two ended because of me?

Me: we ended because I broke up with her. I told you. *silence* I'm sorry.

Her: I may have waited a little too long.

After 6 years of loving her, she kissed me. We went to bed. I told her I had been waiting for that for years and I didn't even know it'd happen. She thanked me for waiting for so long.

She told me no one has ever loved her this much and no one has ever been there for her without the expectation that she could give something in return.

This was a year ago. We're not official but I visit her every weekend- every two weekends. We sleep in the same bed, sometimes kiss and prioritize each other over everyone.

Awww, this is so sweet. I adore hearing love stories and even more when they are like yours. It sounds like a dream and I am so happy for you that you got to live a beautiful experience. I read this more than once, I can not get enough.

Did you ever think something could happen? Was it hard to tell her about your feelings? How did you know she felt the same, why did you wait? I have lots of questions. It was very brave of you to tell her about how you felt.

I have been thinking about telling her, but I am going to wait until I graduate (next year). After seeing her in person, I feel different and I mean that in the best way possible. Sometimes I feel as if she feels something for me but I am not going to risk it anyway, because what if she only likes me but does not love me?

Stories like yours make me believe it is possible, that there is a chance but sometimes it is a matter of time. So I want to thank you for giving me hope :)

[alotofpockets]

Late night conversations | Florence Pugh x Reader

Pairing: Florence Pugh x Reader

Prompt: “I love it when you’re half asleep and talking nonsense.” (full request)

Requested by: @hoe4flosblog

Word count: 851

A/n: My first time writing for Florence! I hope you like it :)

masterlist | 1k celebration requests: open | taglist

Today was the first time you and Florence would be spending the night together. Flo wanted to make it special, she wanted you to be comfortable and feel safe. She invited you over at 6pm, that way she had just enough time to take a shower and cook your favorite meal when she got back home from work.

A couple minutes before six you knock on her apartment door. Florence opens the door with a big smile on her face, pulling you into a hug. “Hello darling.” She says before kissing your cheek. “Hi baby, it smells so good in here! Are you making what I think you are?” Grabbing your hand she leads you to the kitchen, “Come with me and find out.” Florence grabs a clean spoon and fills it with a bit of the sauce she’s making, she holds it in front of you, offering you a taste. “Mmm Flo, that tastes so good!”

Florence lets you know that dinner is almost ready, when she realized you’re still holding your bag. “Why don’t you put you bag away? I will finish up dinner. You can put it in my room or leave it next to the couch, whatever you’re more comfortable with.” You walk to her room and place your bag on the floor next to her dressed. When you get back, Florence was just putting the food down on the table.

After dinner and washing the dishes together Florence suggests watching a movie. So, the two of you settle on the couch, cuddled up under a blanket, watching the movie playing on the living room tv. Once the movie is finished Florence asks, “Are you ready for bed, darling?” You let her know that you are and get up wanting to put your glasses and popcorn bowl away. “Hey, I got it.” Florence says taking them for you, “How about you get ready, and I’ll meet you in my room?” You smile when you realize Florence remembered your talk about maybe not being ready to get changed in front of her. “You’re the best.” You say before cupping her cheeks and pulling her in for a kiss.

Laying in bed you’re facing each other, your eyes are locked on one another. A smile evident on both your faces. Florence has her hand resting on your waist, while your hand is moving slowly up and down her arm. “So, do you have any new Marvel insights?” You ask with a slight smirk on your face. Florence laughs, “You know that even if I did I wouldn’t be allowed to tell you, but they don’t tell us anything.”

The conversation flows freely, you talk about your favorite Marvel movies, Florence her experience of filming one. Which she has told you a lot about, but you loved hearing every detail. To Florence her wonderful cooking of the evening and what you would make for breakfast in the morning. “The weather is supposed to be really nice tomorrow, if you’d like we could rent some bikes at the park.” Your eyes light up, you thought it was a wonderful idea. “Let’s do it.” You say excitedly, with a big smile on your face.

As the both of you get more tired the conversation topics start getting more random, but you didn’t want to give in to sleeping yet. You absolutely loved being around your girlfriend. Florence seemed to be thinking the same as she started another topic. You start bringing up ideas for your next dates, back and forth you mention things you would like to do together.

The next morning you wake up with Flo in your arms, the most amazing feeling in the world. Smiling down at her, she looked so peaceful. You were happy. Then you remembered on of the things you said something last night. You curse yourself for not having a filter when you’re tired. It was probably way to early to be talking about the future like that.

You’re brought out of your thoughts when you feel Florence stir in your arms. “Good morning, baby.” You say softly while placing a kiss to her forehead. Florence smiles wide and hugs you tight, “Good morning.” Staying in bed for a bit longer, soaking in the moment. Florence starts to notice you seem to be deep in thought. “Hey, what’s going on up there?” She asks, running her fingertips over your forehead.

“I was just thinking about last night and how I definitely don’t have a filter when I’m sleepy and I probably said some things I shouldn’t have, yet.” Florence looks at you with a loving look on her face. “Y/n, you can always share whatever is on your mind.” Her hand falls to your cheeks, stroking it with her thumb. “I love it when you’re half asleep and talking nonsense.” She places kisses all over your face before hiding her face in the crook of your neck, you wrap your arms around her body and stay like that until your stomach starts making noises. “That’s or cue to get up and make breakfast.” Florence giggles.

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