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wandasaura · 6 months

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— A PROMISE

summary — when you wake up alone, the only place you want to land is in the arms of your lovers

warning(s) — alludes to ageplay elements, soft girlfriends wandanat, russian accent natty bc i’m soft for her, just pure domestic fluff, little dove universe

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

Some of the best things that had happened to you, had happened by mistake. You were never supposed to be in Manhattan the night an alien ship crash landed on Earth and wreaked havoc on that small strip for almost two hours, but you’d taken the wrong subway and wandered around aimlessly until you found a cafe you recognized. Unfortunately for you, that mistake put you right in the center of alien warfare. Fortunately for you, it also put you right into the arms of a redheaded Avengers with a haunted past.

Things hadn’t been the same after that. It was almost like whatever you did, wherever you went, fate decided to step in and put you right in her path. If you were at a local market, so was she. If you were stranded on a subway platform after missing your train, so was she. You knew she had a girlfriend, everyone knew of Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff's epic love story, but somehow you weren’t surprised when she asked you out for coffee after three weeks of spontaneous meetings. In such a big city, it was almost cliche to deny the possibility of something more being just at your fingertips when you kept meeting.

That coffee date turned out to be the best mistake of your life. And, six months later, you found yourself in the center of an epic love story that you somehow had the honor of calling your own. It wasn’t traditional by any means, and it wasn’t always perfect, but it was the best thing that had ever happened to you, and you reminded yourself of that every single day. Though it wasn’t like you could forget it even if you tried.

Waking up alone was an unusual way to start your day ever since moving in with Wanda and Natasha. Your girlfriends were early risers, they often jostled you awake as they tried to slip out of bed, but on the days when they didn’t, you always woke up to at least one of them cuddling close to your warm body, trying to catch a few more hours of peace after a workout. Today was different, and something inside of you felt different as well. Without them next to you, it felt like something was missing from your heart, and you wanted to burst into tears just because Wanda’s side of the bed was cold to the touch and her blanket was rustled and messy.

Sniffling, you throw your legs over the side of the bed, shivering when the cold floor shot sparks up through your bones. Your pajamas were only thin, the intense heatwave that had settled overtop of New York City keeping you from your traditional fuzzy pants and stolen hoodie, but it seemed to be cooler today, the air in the room not so thick with heat like it had been. That small victory still didn’t quell your sadness however, as you sought after your girlfriends, desperate to feel the warmth of their love in any capacity they’d allow.

Their accented voices carry from somewhere down the hallway, and the closer you came to finding them, the easier it became to recognize the sweet aroma of your favorite homemade breakfast being cooked in the kitchen. The thought of Wanda’s famous waffles brought a smile to your tired lips, easing away some of your distress.

No matter how quiet your footsteps were as you padded down the hall and around the corners that jumped out at you no thanks to your sleepy eyes, you never quite managed to sneak up on either of your doting girlfriends. When one was a former assassin and the other was a witch with telepathic abilities, surprises were almost impossible to pull off without help from the other, so it was no surprise that before you could even step foot into the kitchen fully, Natasha was spinning around to greet you with a soft smile and warm eyes.

That impossibly heavy feeling in your belly amplified tenfold seeing her soft body just out of reach and pressed up against the counter casually, like she was unaware of the domestic dominance she radiated by just being in the room. The sadness in your eyes wasn’t lost on her as she drank in the sight of you so sleepy and innocent in only Wanda’s stolen sleepware, and that charming smile on her lips slowly sank into a pout. “What’s wrong, baby?” The slightest lisp of Russian coated her words as they filled the kitchen, warm and heavy on your skin as they sank into your bones and made your muscles weak. Her accent only ever came out in moments like this, when it was just you and Wanda around to hear — where she knew it was safe to let her guard down — and selfishly you adored it. You adored knowing that she showed you every part of herself.

The fog in your mind was laeden, and subsequently made your words feel impossible to find despite your efforts, the only thought that was clear to you in that moment was getting to her, and finally being in her arms. Ignoring her question, you let your feet lead the way to her awaiting body, sinking into her chest once you were close enough to reach it. Her muscular arms wrapped around your midsection tightly, one calloused palm cradling the back of your head as you dug your face into the darkest spot of her neck.

Natasha looked down at you fleetingly, soaking up the delicacy of your touch, before glancing over at Wanda for any enlightenment she could offer. The younger redhead had noticed your odd disposition the moment you stepped into the room, your typically boisterous and infectious energy worryingly depleted and rubbing at her magic in a way she couldn’t ignore. She hated prying into your emotions, hated how gross it made her feel inside knowing she didn’t have permission to be snooping around in your thoughts, but some things couldn’t be helped when your energy was so violently projecting feelings of distress, and it didn’t seem like you’d be giving her or Natasha any verbal indication of a problem anytime soon.

The deepest shade of scarlet overtook her eyes as she let herself be immersed into your inner monologue, head tilting as she searched through your scrambled brain. She couldn’t help herself from cooing when she found the root of the problem, immediately drawing herself out once she felt content to go from what she now knew. That high pitch sound caught your attention, and desperately you peeked out from Natasha’s neck, looking at her with the most spaced out doe eyes she’d ever seen.

Dropping the dish towel she’d been using to wipe her hands with, Wanda joined you at Natasha’s front, laying a heavy hand on the center of your back, letting you feel her warmth through the thin shirt you had on, while her other brushed strands of hair out of your eyes. “You just missed us, huh, dove? Woke up all alone.” She cooed softly, leaning in just close enough to lay a featherlight kiss on your hairline, pulling away all too soon for your liking, your high pitched whine an automatic response that she immediately shushed. You’d never felt like this before, never felt so dependent on their attention and affection, but you didn’t hate the warmth that spread through your entire body from just seeing them smile at you. It felt so simple but so deeply healing.

Wanda didn’t have much insight to where your head was at, but she wasn’t completely oblivious either, unlike Natasha who looked entirely unsure of how to proceed with you so pliable in her arms. The scarlet headed woman laughed softly at your girlfriends expense, unbothered by your sudden dependability, drawing patterns on your back with light touches of her fingertips to quell your rising dismay for her not giving you another kiss. “You’re so sweet, golub’. Looking at me with those pretty big eyes. Why don’t you and Talia find a good place to enjoy our breakfast while I finish up. I’m making your favorite.”

Wanda met Natasha’s gaze, eyes flashing scarlet as she opened the line for mental communication. They hardly ever spoke this way in front of you, the entire structure of your relationship built on trust and open communication, but Wanda knew this was sensitive for both of you, and she in your current state, she didn’t want to run the risk of upsetting or embarrassing you. She wasn’t even sure you were entirely aware of what was going on. When you realized they were talking without you, a dissatisfied whine came from high in your throat, needy hands pulling at the neckline of Natasha’s shirt to capture her attention for yourself.

Wanda didn’t hesitate to put an end to your pleading, an amused laugh coming from her chest as she kept her eyes on Natasha’s, only offering you a gentle pat on the back. Natasha closed her palm around your fist, keeping her skin heavy on yours as she absorbed all that Wanda was telling her. “Oh, I know you want all the attention on you. Poor baby.” Wanda laughed once she closed the communication line, casting her eyes downward until she met the sweet pout on your cherry red lips.

Kissing your frown away tenderly, she quickly sent you and Natasha on your way out of the kitchen, not wanting you anywhere near open flames and hot burners when your mind was so hazy. Something had changed within your dynamic that day, you just hadn’t realized it yet, but your girls would get you through it. That was a promise.

#wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #wandanat #wandanat fluff #wanda maximoff fluff #natasha romanoff fluff #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat x reader #mommy!wanda maximoff x reader #daddy!natasha romanoff x reader #series: little dove

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timeoutsoup · 1 year

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Dig You A Grave Part 2

(Again thank you for @im-totally-not-an-alien-2 for the prompt. Also shout out to @spoopyspoony for the hilarious tag)

Klarion had succeeded in his mission of obtaining the tome for The Light, but at a heavy cost to himself.

Teekl had emerged from the Mayor’s Mansion having successfully gotten the book, only to be seen by the junior justice babies. They divided their attacks between him and his beloved familiar. In the end he was able to grab the book as he a Teekl were separated by a blast. Deciding to lead the heroes away and return for his beloved feline, Klarion took to the sky. Once he knew it was safe to return, the witch boy began his search for Teekl.

It had been three days and Klarion had not found her yet. Anger and worry clouded his vision, as he continued his search.

The powerful witch boy was getting sick of the light. All they cared about was their stupid plan. They kept the Lord of Chaos on a short leash, gave him rules to follow, and had him run errands, like some servant. And to top it all off none of them had cared the Teekl was missing. Savage had the audacity to tell him to just find a new one, as if that man had any power over him. He decided to find Teekl and then make his decision about the light.

The Day Before

Danny was excited about fostering the cat he found. She was so sweet, and really well trained. He didn’t even know cats could be trained. His parents had let him foster the cat, when he explained how he had stumbled upon her after the ghost fight. Also mentioning how the feline had orange fur, and it reminded him of Jazz, didn’t hurt either.

Sam and Tucker had joined him when he went to the pet store to pick up items for his new house guest.

“What if she doesn’t like anything?” Danny worried.

“Simple we will donate what we can to shelters and local rescues and come back and get different items.” Sam replied as she grabbed a bag of Churu’s off the wall.

“More importantly, since when do you buy meat products?” Tucker asked, raising a brow at Sam.

“While cats are omnivores, they eat mostly meat. Just because I am a vegan doesn’t mean I’m going to make a poor animal suffer and deny it proper nutrition.” Sam replied, giving Tucker a look.

“Huh, I didn’t know that. Maybe I should pick up a book or two on cats while we are here.” Danny said, pushing the cart down the aisle.

If Sam decided her parents should foot the bill after they had tried to replace her favorite combat boots with pastel pink kitten heels, who were the boys to complain about the Manson’s generous donation for this poor, injured kitty. They got everything, wet food, dry food, bowls for food and water, a water fountain bowl, treats in all shapes and sizes, a wool cat cave bed, a cat tree, toy and more.

Once Teekl (she had a collar with her name on the tag) had been released from the vet, which the Manson’s also paid for, Danny took her straight home, hopeful she liked it. He read the book they got and followed the vet’s advice to start by introducing her in a small safe area. The upstairs bathroom was perfect because only he really used it now that Jazz was off at college. Not everything they bought would fit into the bathroom, so Danny made the decision to put the necessities and a few extras. No matter how funny Tock found it he was not putting the cat tree in there. Carpet in the bathroom is disgusting. Just the simple ceramic food and matching water dish, the new litter box, and the shirt he was wearing when he rescued her, on top of an old pillow that smelled like Danny.

Opening the carrier, Danny watched as Teekl walked out, examining her new surroundings. She gave a courteous sniff to the food, took a few laps of water, and then plopped herself down onto her makeshift bed. Confused but happy that she felt comfortable, Danny continued to watch, making sure she was comfortable.

After a few minutes Danny left her to her own to finish settling in, making sure to close the door. Returning to his room to finish setting all the cat supplies up. Placing a bed between his dresser and the wall so she could hide in comfort. The cat tree between his bed and the window, so she can sun herself, as well as use it like steps to get on his bed. The water fountain off to the side, on a rubber mat, and her food bowl near by but not too close. And a basket, holding a variety of toys slide nicely under his bed.

Checking his watch, the young halfa decided to check on his furry little house guest again. Standing up, and turning around, the ghost boy is shocked. There sitting in his doorway, cleaning their paw without a care in the world, is Teekl.

“Well, I guess you’ve adjusted to being here then.” Danny muttered, leaning down to pick up the orange tabby. Surprised that she not only let him pick her up, but began to purr, he turned around and began to how her his room.

By the end of the day Teekl was sunning herself in the last rays of sunlight as Danny finished up his homework for school tomorrow. It was a nice relaxing moment in his hectic life. He began dissociating and didn’t notice the cat in his lap until she began to headbutt his chin. Blinking back to the present Danny looked down and smiled, gently petting the purring feline. He knows that eventually Teekl’s owner will come for her, and he does want her to be returned, but another part of him wants her to stay with him forever.

Waking up to a warm, purring cat on his chest has to be one of the best feelings in the world. Danny doesn’t want this moment to end really. He feels like a normal teenager for the first time in a long while.

Trying not to dwell on the fact that he isn’t normal, the teen gently gets up to start his day. Teekl decides to lay in the warm spot he just left.

Danny dressed quickly, rushing through his morning routine, making sure he had enough time to take care of Teekl before he rushed off. After checking everything, and topping off her food in water, Danny crouched down beside his bed, eye level with the sweet tabby.

“Alright cutie, I have to go to school now. I topped off your food and water. There are plenty of comfy and warm places to take a nap. Stay out of the fridge. I’m pretty sure the hotdogs have overthrown the ham. Also stay out of the basement. It’s dangerous and my parents wouldn’t know lab safety if it bit them.” Danny stated as he rubbed her head.

He stood up. Two rings of bright light engulfed him, and a moment later a teen in a black and white hazmat suit, white hair that seemed to move with no wind, and a pair of glowing green eyes.

“I’ll be back after school.” Danny said with a wave, turning intangible as he rushed off to school.

In his hurry he didn’t notice the glint in feline’s eye as he rushed off to school. Softly jumping down from the bed, she made her way to the door and down the stairs, only stopping for a bit of food and a drink of water.

Teekl would have usually returned as quickly as possible to Klarion, but this time was different. The being that helped her had smelled of death and power, and she was curious, after all she was a cat.

—————

Danny had made it to school on time for once, and was able to grab some food before class started.

“Wow you're on time for once.” Tucker snickered.

“Yeah, I woke up early to take care of Teeks, and no ghosts, so I also grabbed breakfast.” Danny bragged.

“Teeks? You already gave her a nickname? Danny, you know she’s not your cat.” Sam stated.

“I know. It’s just a nickname, don't worry.” Danny replied as he turned toward the board as the bell range.

—————

By lunch Danny was bored and missed Teekl. His idea of sneaking out and checking on her during lunch got thrown out as his ghost sense went off. Lunch Lady was back and had taken over the cafeteria. Ducking for cover behind an overturned table, he peered out to a scene that made his blood run cold.

“No animals in the cafeteria!” Shrieked the ghost, hurling meat at an orange tabby. “Get out now or I’ll turn you into meatloaf.”

——————-

Klarion had been flying around for hours searching for his familiar and he had finally tracked her down to a school. Racing down the hall, dodging fleeing teenagers, he finally reached a set over double doors, flung them open and was shocked by the scene in front of him.

The black-haired teen, who had asked him out during his fight with Young Justice was standing on a pile of meat, holding his beloved familiar, and wielding what looked like a thermos that was sucking up a ghost wearing a hair net. A truly chaotic site to behold.

After capping the strange device, the interesting blue-eyed boy turns to the remaining occupants of the room and opened his mouth.

“I have only had Teekl for a day and a half, but if anything happened to her, I thermos everyone in this room, and then myself.”

#danny phantom #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny fenton #dp x dc prompt #dpxdc #klarion #chaoticspirit #danny and klarion friendship #klarion dc #klarion danny #klarion the witch boy #part 2 #Dig You A Grave

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penguinsnoot · 11 months

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20 Anime You Should Watch

I’ve been getting into anime again recently, and thought I’d share some that I like! These are in no particular order. I gave very short, simplistic descriptions of each show, but I recommend looking them up for full summaries to get a better idea of what they’re about.

1) Cells at Work! (2 seasons, 22 episodes) [Comedy]

Anthropomorphic cells living in a human’s body. Focuses on a red blood cell that frequently encounters a white blood cell during dangerous bodily infestations and illnesses.

2) Kaichou wa Maid-sama! (1 season, 26 episodes) [Comedy, Romance]

Focuses on the female school president of a previously all-male school who directs and rules over them harshly. She secretly works at a maid café, which is discovered by a popular male classmate of hers.

3) Ouran High School Host Club (1 season, 26 episodes) [Comedy, Romance]

Student Haruhi Fujioka stumbles upon a host club in the prestigious Ouran Academy. After accidentally breaking an expensive vase, she must work for the club to pay off her debt.

4) Lost Song (1 season, 12 episodes) [Music, Fantasy]

Rin is a girl from a small village who dreams of singing in the capital city. Her singing has the power to heal any wound. Rin and her brother, Al, journey to the capital when their home is attacked by soldiers hoping to capture Rin. Finis, who also has a magical voice, performs for the royal palace. She falls in love with a soldier named Henry and must hide their relationship from the prince. She and Rin have intersecting destinies and both struggle with the terrible circumstances that life throws at them.

5) Clannad (2 seasons, 47 episodes) [Drama, Romance, Supernatural]

Delinquent Tomoya meets ill Nagisa and they become friends. Along with four other girls, Tomoya decides to help Nagisa revive the school’s drama club. He finds himself helping each girl with their respective problems and learns that life may not be as dull as he once thought.

6) Fruits Basket (3 seasons, 64 episodes) [Drama, Romance, Supernatural]

Homeless Tohru Honda moves in with members of the mysterious Soma family. When she accidentally learns of the family’s curse of them turning into animals when embraced by a member of the opposite sex, she resolves to help them figure out how to lift the curse.

7) Kamisama Hajimemashita (2 seasons, 25 episodes) [Comedy, Fantasy, Romance]

Offered a home by a man being attacked by a dog, Nanami is surprised to find a seemingly abandoned shrine. When she tried to leave, she is confronted by the spirits of the shrine. Tomoe, the fox spirit, leaves angrily when he realizes it is not the land god, Mikage, who has entered their home and that he instead sent a human girl as replacement. Refusing to remain homeless, Nanami decided to serve the shrine and ends up forming a sealed contract with Tomoe when she kisses him.

8) Princess Jellyfish (1 season, 11 episodes) [Comedy, Slice-of-life]

Tsukimi is an introvert with a love for jellyfish living with other socially isolated women in Tokyo. One day, she meets someone beautiful who looks like a princess and helps her save a jellyfish from a local pet store. The beautiful princess is revealed to actually be a crossdressing man named Kuranosuke. Despite their aversion to men and socializing in general, Kuranosuke resolves to help the women become more confident in themselves.

9) Soul Eater (1 season, 51 episodes) [Action, Comedy, Fantasy]

Follows three sets of meisters and their weapons as they fight demons and witches to obtain the status of Death Scythes. They attend a school founded by Lord Death and learn the best ways to recognize and defeat these evil entities.

10) Yuri on Ice (1 season, 12 episodes) [Sports, Romance]

Figure skater Yuri meets champion skater Victor, who claims he is going to be Yuri’s new mentor. Yuri accepts and goes on a difficult journey of training in the world of competitive ice skating.

11) BNA: Brand New Animal (1 season, 12 episodes) [Action, Fantasy, Comedy]

Michiru, after becoming a newly formed beastman, travels to Anima City, a safe haven for people like her. After witnessing an explosion during a celebration, she is confronted by detective Shirou Ogami. They team up to pursue the criminals involved with the explosion and discover why Michiru has suddenly started to turn into a Tanuki after being human all her life.

12) Japan Sinks: 2020 (1 season, 10 episodes) [Drama, Sci-fi]

Ayumu and family’s life is turned upside down when an earthquake strikes and obliterates Japan’s structural integrity. The Mutou family must find a way to survive and get out of the country before the entirety of Japan sinks into the ocean.

13) Toradora (1 season, 25 episodes) [Drama, Romance]

Gentle yet fierce-looking Ryuji forms an unlikely friendship with sharp-tongued and violent Taiga. They try to help one another confess to their crushes while growing closer along the way.

14) A3! (2 seasons, 24 episodes) [Drama, Slice-of-life, Comedy]

Izumi confronts the loan sharks who are after money from her father’s run-down theater. She plans to bring the theater back into the spotlight and pay of the debt with the help from an all-male acting troupe.

15) Monthly Girls’ Nozaki-kun (1 season, 12 episodes) [Comedy, Romance]

Chiyo has a crush on her schoolmate, Nozaki, and confesses to him, but he mistakes her as a fan of his manga and gives her an autograph. Saying she wants to be with him, Nozaki invites her to help him with his drawings. Chiyo hopes that by helping Nozaki, he will eventually take notice of her romantic feelings for him.

16) Wotakoi: Love is Hard for Otaku (1 season, 11 episodes) [Romance, Comedy]

Narumi and Hirotaka knew each other when they were younger and end up working in the same office. They decide to start dating, but find that their respective interests make it difficult to create romantic situations.

17) K-On! (2 seasons, 39 episodes, 1 film) [Comedy, Slice-of-life]

Five high school students become friends and bandmates as they form the next generation of their school’s Light Music Club.

18) Violet Evergarden (1 season, 13 episodes, 2 films) [Fantasy, Drama]

Amidst working for a ghostwriting agency, past soldier Violet Evergarden learns to reconnect with her feelings while trying to understand the final words her commander left her with.

19) Given (1 season, 11 episodes, 1 film) [Drama, Romance]

Prepared to give up music for good, Ritsuka changes his mind after meeting Mafuyu. He gives Mafuyu guitar lessons in the hopes of making the other boy the lead singer for his band.

20) Rascal Does Not Dream of Bunny Girl Senpai (1 season, 13 episodes, 1 film) [Drama, Romance, Supernatural]

Sakuta suffers from puberty-syndrome and sees a bunny girl that is invisible to others. When he meets the girl in real life, he realizes she’s going through her own problems and becomes attached to the bunny girl.

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ijuststareatstuffhereok89 · 1 year

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"Don't Touch Me" (Loki x F!Reader)

Summary: Cursed with the power of necrogenesis, you are held captive by the Avengers, who think you are too much of a threat to be allowed to roam free. When they decide to give you a chance to prove yourself, they entrust your care to Loki, who whisks you away to a safe house in New Asgard.

Pairing: Soft!Loki x Captive!Reader Content Warning: angst, comfort, smut (18+ ONLY), reader is a prisoner, Soft!Dom!Loki, narratophilia, magic bondage (soft), praise kink Word Count: 5.1k **Please reblog this if you like it! Thank you!**

Hours? Days? Weeks?

For all you knew, it had been a year since your capture.

Three years prior, you’d woken one not-so-fine morning to discover that everything died at the slightest touch of your finger. Whether it was a plant, animal, or person, nothing alive was safe from you. You didn't know how or why it was you, but the fact was: it was you. You went from normal insurance claims adjuster to reaper overnight. It was no small thing to get used to.

You shut yourself away, learned to make friends online and in other countries whom you would never meet in person, tell the pizza guy to leave it outside (money’s in the mail slot), and to put the idea that you;d ever meet a man out of your head forever. You had yet to kill a human, thankfully, but every day you felt the anxiety build within your chest as you knew that record couldn’t possibly remain ‘zero’ forever.

You were a monster. The best thing for a monster to do was to hide in its cave.

Yet, you’d managed three years of hiding, wearing leather gloves from the second you awoke to the second you went to bed (aside from in the shower, of course), and staying as far away from cities as you could. Perhaps, given how introverted you were naturally, you could live a quiet life in peaceful solitude. You were considering buying a cabin in the Appalachians, near a waterfall or a creek one day. It would be lonely, but at least you would be free and unafraid of accidentally killing someone who insisted on shaking your bare hand. The little town in Connecticut where you were keeping a low profile was close enough to NYC that you could see the light pollution on the southern horizon at night, and it would do for the time being.

Unfortunately, your time ended. A surveillance camera had caught an accident of yours in a local park, where one of your gloves had blown off and flown down a path, and in chase, you’d tripped and tried to grab onto a tree branch to stop your fall.

The entire tree came down behind you, barely missing your body, dead as if it had been dried up for centuries in the blink of an eye.

That tape had made it to the eyes of Nick Fury himself over the course of only a few hours. The Team moved in on you on a typical Monday morning, just as you pulled on your gloves, ready to leave the apartment for work. What else could you have done but pulled off your gloves in an attempt to defend yourself? Despite being unable to take out any of your assailants, of which there were four, you’d taken out half of the park’s greenery, and a few unfortunate pigeons that couldn’t get out of your way as you stumbled and desperately scrambled away from the archer, the one with scraggly hair, the red witch, and the birdman.

Before you knew it, you were subdued and wrapped up tightly so that none of your skin below your chin was exposed, and you were taken to a solid glass holding cell somewhere underneath a compound in the Hudson valley: the headquarters for the New Avengers Initiative.

You were fed through a trick door in the side of the 12 x 12 cell (not that you were particularly hungry at any point). You were never taken out or touched, only handed sanitary items through the door and told to shower through a water spout that hung from the ceiling after most of the lab team studying you went home. Dr. Banner gave you 30 minutes without cameras trained on you every day.

Not that it mattered much. You still sat there day in and day out, refusing to speak or answer any of the thousands of questions about your powers that you didn’t want to answer. You refused to eat, and you did little more than sleep or sit on the ground, staring off into the middle-distance.

You began to get weaker, and that was when you first saw your champion.

It was none other than Loki of Asgard, the god who’d torn New York City apart, then played an integral part in stopping the end of the world at the hand (quite literally) of a god much bigger than he. While the rumor was that he still wasn’t considered fully trustworthy, his role in saving humanity was apparently enough to give him a spot on the Avengers squad.

On the morning he’d come down to the cell to get a look at you, he appeared tired, a bit annoyed to be there. “And what do you want me to do about her?”

“She’s a villain, she’s got your…um…background,” said Dr. Banner. “Perhaps she’ll talk to you. She will likely die in a few weeks if this continues. Something has to give.”

“So you called me forth from my respite to show me your latest trophy? Do you think I would approve of you taking captive someone who won’t even speak her name?” he asked, sounding less impressed and more disappointed. “What makes you think she has ill intentions?”

Loki rounded a corner with Dr. Banner, and he was finally in your view.

Your first impression was that he wasn’t quite as intimidating as you’d expected him to be. He was tall, but you’d anticipated a figure at least half a foot taller than what strode up to your cage, dressed in a black leather tunic, trimmed in gold, and form-fitting black trousers of the same color, tucked into green knee-length boots. His hair was tied in a tail at the nape of his neck, and several strands in the front were loose, framing his angular face. His eyes were intense and focused singularly on you as soon as he got you in his sights.

“Did she try to kill you?” he asked, making a beeline for you, standing up along the glass, watching you with interest as if you were a zoo animal.

“She did put up a fight. She may not have super serum strength or anything, but you try apprehending someone who can stop your heart with a flick,” Banner explained.

“And I trust you explained to her what was happening, and gave her the chance to come quietly?” Loki inquired, smiling gently at you, making you turn your head away bashfully.

“Well, no,” said Banner sheepishly. “We were under the impression it wasn’t going to be on the table. According to our intel, absolutely anything she touches dies before it hits the ground, you understand.”

“It sounds as if you wouldn’t have known either way,” scoffed Loki, getting down onto his knee, bringing his eye level closer to the floor, closer to you. “And you all think I’m the bad one. At least I eventually called my sins what they were and changed my ways.”

Banner shrugged. “Well, I’ll leave you to it,” he said. “Maybe if you can get her to talk, we can consider getting her out of there.”

Loki nodded. “I will do my best, and I won’t treat her like a war criminal for defending herself in the process.”

The doctor left the god alone, dimming the harsh fluorescent lights, making the environment slightly more comfortable.

He smiled at you, and even though you knew he was in earnest, something about the sharpness of his grin, the unnatural whiteness of his teeth, gave him an air of sinister jest. You were still afraid to look him in the eye as he shifted around the cage next to where you leaned against the glass.

You heard three light taps by your right ear, making you flinch.

“Hello, there,” whispered a soft, deep voice. “Please don’t be frightened of me. I’m not frightened of you.”

You finally used your voice for the first time in ages, compelled to respond to your dashing jailer without even really thinking on it. “That’s because of the glass.”

“I’m sorry? These walls are thick, would you mind terribly speaking up?”

“The glass,” you repeated. “If we were on the same side, you’d be afraid of me.”

“Forgive me, Miss,” Loki replied, “But I’ve been told enough about you to pass judgment on that, and I say, you aren’t a danger.”

“But how can you tell?” you asked meekly, feeling a tear at the corner of your eye, quickly blinking it back. It was remarkable at how fraught your situation felt: it was enough to extract intense emotions out of every single word you said.

“Darling,” your ally leaned in, as if to whisper a gentle secret in your ear, “I trust my instinct. You look about as helpless as a gosling. I can see how the skin on your neck trembles.”

“I don't know why or how this happened. Please don’t expect answers,” you pleaded. “Please, tell them to let me go.”

Loki sighed and looked down. “My word isn’t, as of yet, in the best position here, though I am working on it, I assure you.”

“Please,” you said, the desperation in your voice losing intensity, giving way to an exhausted weakness. “Please, help me. I just want to live alone where I can’t hurt anyone. I won’t ever go looking for trouble, I swear--”

“--ssh, I know, pet, I know,” Loki said quietly. “Cease worrying. Loki will take care of you.”

Loki will take care of you.

The sentence, particularly its’ delivery, made goosebumps rise along your arms, although you felt them appear for a reason you didn’t quite find familiar at first.

He stayed with you for nearly twelve hours, taking his meals with you, talking gently about inconsequential matters to distract you from your circumstances.

When he was finally forced away so that you could have your evening shower, he turned back one last time before leaving. “I will always be back for you,” he vowed. “Y/N, you’ll be free by morning.”

For the first time since your arrest, you slept soundly, your angular, Asgardian savior filling your dreams with feelings of safety and love.

Loki had promised your freedom by morning. He was true to his word.

“Look, I don't exactly feel confident in letting you two go off into the wild blue yonder to cause havoc,” said the imposing Nick Fury, who, quite frankly, frightened the ever living hell out of you. “I was ultimately convinced,” he looked bitterly at Loki, who shrugged innocently, “but there are terms. If I get wind of either of you sneezing without permission, you both come right back here and get thrown into the motherfucking dungeon.”

“We don’t have a dungeon,” Loki mumbled, a smart-ass grin rolling across his face to try and break the tension. You smiled for the first time in a long, long while.

“Watch it, Laufeyson,” said Fury. “You’re the one sailing this boat. Don't sink it.”

Neither of you wanted to arouse his ire any further, so you decided to quietly slip away and out of the city, taking a quinjet being flown by Banner out to a place you’d never realized existed.

“New Asgard,” your handsome escort explained as you began your descent. “The survivors among my people settled here after the fall of our homeworld and the slaughter we faced when we tried to escape. There aren’t many. It is…regrettably…a bit spartan.”

“Better than that terrible cell,” you answered softly, barely audible. Loki, with the natural hearing of a god, still made out what you’d said, and he gently took your hand and gave it a squeeze, making your heart flutter when you looked into his promising blue eyes.

Indeed, the place was no bigger than a fishing village. In fact, that was essentially what it was. Even Loki scrunched his nose at the sight as you disembarked and let Banner fly off with the plane. Loki had never let go of your hand, and each of you had a small bag slung over your opposite shoulders.

“Welcome to New Asgard,” he said, a bit of disappointment lacing his tone. “We are going to be staying here until Fury sees fit to declare us tame enough to come home.”

You walked up a path to the small town square, every house basic in construction small in scale, and underwhelming in neighborly feeling. Most of the Asgardians were dressed in heavy knitted sweaters and boots and kept their heads down and eyes on their work.

“Weren’t you their prince?” you asked quietly. “Why aren’t they bowing?”

Loki sighed. “Our system of government has changed somewhat since relocating,” he said. “Also, the present King isn’t exactly fond of me.”

You decided to take things one moment at a time (there were too many conflicting emotions swimming in your head to warrant fixating on one anyway), and to let his cryptic comments go. You were going to be here for a long time, so perhaps it was best to let it go. Loki would open up to you in time.

You were nearly knocked over by two children running in chase around you as you meandered. Loki grunted, but remained soft for your sake. “We will need to inform these people, however, to mind themselves around you,” he said, holding back his annoyance.

“Even if it happened by accident, I couldn’t live with myself,” you mentioned.

Loki stopped you and scooped a hand under your chin, looking you in the eye with warm assurance that also had an air of dominance to it, almost like an attractive young school teacher, stern but also kind in his insistence for your obedience.

“Yes, you can, and that is why we are here together,” he said. “Please remember that we are here to help each other, and I am here to protect you.”

“It’s them that need protection from me,” you moaned, disheartened. “If it weren’t for the gloves…” you trailed off.

Loki shook his head and let you go. He tapped your glove. “These will be coming off. Today.”

“No!” you said quickly. “Please, Loki, don’t expose me to everyone like that.”

Your escort shook his head. “Let’s get inside and discuss this. I do believe rain is coming.”

He was correct. Just as the pair of you found your small hovel towards the far end of the shoreline, a chilly splattering of precipitation began to fall about you. Taking out a brass key, he brought you inside, taking your rucksack and tossing it by the bedroom door carelessly.

The cabin was one three rooms: a living room, a bedroom, and a kitchen barely big enough for two people to turn around in. The bathroom also hardly had enough room for a human-sized creature to stand comfortably, as it was about the side of a phone booth plus perhaps a few square feet. There were furnishings, but the sofas, chairs, and tables all look like they’d been scavenged from an old lady’s garage sale at best.

The bedroom only had one large bed, taking up most of the minimal space by itself.

You stood, stupefied, in the middle of the room as Loki observed. You kept your gloved hands close to your chest as you anxiously looked around.

“You may as well get comfortable while I make us some tea,” Loki suggested. “This miniscule cottage is our indefinite home.”

You sat quietly, refusing to move your hands as Loki set up a small tea set he found in the cabinets, taking the steaming kettle to your cup, and in a moment, the smell of peppermint filled your nostrils, putting you slightly more at ease.

He sat beside you, not touching anything on his side of the table, instead bringing the attention back to you once again. He was like an explorer discovering new territory; he needed to know everything about you.

“Pet, I will wait until you are comfortable removing them, but I would like to see them come off today,” he said, again with that attractive stern-but-kind tone that was beginning to make more than your heart flutter. “I would like to feel your skin on mine.”

“You wish to die, then. I can’t control it,” you said quietly, looking away.

“That’s merely because you were never given the opportunity to see if you could,” said Loki, absentmindedly holding out a hand, making you shrink back reflexively.

“Please, don't touch me!”

Loki quickly withdrew, giving you your space and shrinking toward the opposite end of the couch. You couldn’t help but notice he looked a little hurt. “I…I’m very sorry,” you apologized, hoping you didn’t scare off your guardian. “You’re wonderful, and I can’t be the one to take your life, even by accident,” you blurted out.

Loki bit his lip, looking at you again. “Wonderful?”

You nodded. “I believe you when you say you’re not afraid of me. But…I am, okay? I’m a monster.”

He sighed, thinking for a moment on what to say next. “I know monsters. I’ve met them, slain them…you are no monster.” His gentle words filled you with warmth. “And furthermore,” he continued, “I would allow you to touch me, barehanded, right here and now.”

“No.”

You felt his hand on your shoulder, lithe but steady. “The thing about magic, Y/N, is that no matter what form it comes in, what you see is never the complete picture. Any and all magic can be trained, whether to contain or expand.”

You twiddled your thumbs nervously. “I don’t even know where this came from, so how can I know what the key is to controlling it?”

“Willpower,” Loki said, matter-of-factly. “It’s simply how any magic works.”

Loki had stealthily shifted so that your outer thighs were touching, and you were more than a little aware of it. Then, you looked up at your helper just as he brushed a strand of hair away from your brow, tucking it behind your ear, making you sigh a little.

“Ms Y/N, am I startling you?” he asked. “I don’t want you feeling ill at ease with me.”

You didn’t reply.

“If I had to be sent out to a wooden box in the middle of a Norwegian mud pile, I must say I could not have found a more exquisite creature to share in my exile,” he whispered. “I only hope my saying so isn’t too forward.”

“It isn’t,” you answered bashfully. “Loki…I haven’t thanked you yet for what you’ve done for me. And…I think I know how I want to.”

It was as if Loki could read your thoughts, for it was here that he leaned in for your first kiss. You were timid at first, but seeing as it was your escort who initiated contact, you had nothing to worry about, so long as he remained the one to make the first move.

As you pulled apart, you went to remove your cardigan, but you felt Loki’s hand press against yours from through the leather glove you still wore.

“It is your own soft flesh I want feeling my muscles, your fingers I want exploring every part of me,” said Loki. “I have given you every dignity I could throughout this process, but if you cannot give me this one, we cannot--”

You whimpered, and Loki instantly regretted his words. “Y/N, I apologize!”

Shaking your head, you looked at him again, letting your lips perk up at the corners. “You’re right. And, although this has never happened to me before, I don’t want to…to miss out, you know? I just…what if I touch you in the wrong way by accident? If I jump or get nervous?”

Loki smiled. “If you’d really like to, I have an idea. Let me guide you along the way.”

“How?”

“I’ll simply communicate with you. Use my words to describe every gentle move I make. Would that suit you enough to give this a try? I must confess, with each passing moment, I just want to hold you more and more, and listen to your sweet cries--”

“--I…but…”

“There is one more thing we can try,” Loki suggested, brushing your eyebrow with his thumb before laying a sweet, shallow kiss on it. “I can bind you with magic. Softly bind you, so that if you needed to move away, you could, but the weight would be enough to keep you from inadvertently brushing against me with every twitch of pleasure I give to you.”

You felt a hot blush run up your face as the desire laced in between his words filled you with need.

“Wait…”

You took a deep breath and shut your eyes, tugging at the very tip of the ring finger of the glove on your right hand.

Loki ran a thumb across your hot cheek. “You must be brave. I believe in you.” His goddamned touch nearly made you break your concentration, but you were still able to slowly, gently, cautiously, pull off the glove, setting it on the table with a trembling hand.

“If this doesn’t work, I’ll die,” you said, your voice quaking.

Loki was smiling with enough confidence for you both. “There won’t be a need, pet.”

You raised your hand, keeping your eyes focused on Loki, who sat up straight, the kind, empathetic look in his eyes never wavering. If he was in fact nervous, he was a brilliant actor, because you were getting no impression that he felt any sort of peril in the moment.

Finally, you found enough courage to lift your bare hand and bring it in the general direction of your guide. For his part, Loki still did not flinch, even when you felt as if you were about to foolishly commit a murder.

“Loki, I’m sorry if this doesn’t work,” you said meekly, trusting your arm forward before you could change your mind, and closing your eyes.

You felt his cool skin make contact with the pads of your fingers after landing on his left cheek. You didn’t immediately open your eyes, instead waiting for the sound of a body hitting the floor, the sound of a final breath being forced out of the lungs, or the sensation of Loki’s skin going unnaturally cold.

The only thing you felt after several moments was a second set of fingers gently settling over your hand. You opened your eyes, and the tender sight of Loki holding your palm against his skin, his eyes closed as he genuinely savored your touch, was all you saw, and you suddenly felt fifty pounds lighter.

“Oh, Loki…” you sighed in relief. “You’re still here.”

“You don’t want me to die, and thus, I haven’t. Just as I said, yes?”

You smiled and slowly took your hand back so that you could remove your other glove, and with another quick breath, you placed each hand on each of Loki’s, curling your fingers in between his. “Still alive!” you said with a small smile as you finally began feeling at ease for the first time in three long, chaotic years.

“More alive than ever, little princess,” Loki said, leaning over and rewarding you with a longer, deeper kiss. It went electricity down your core, radiating down your legs. You were finally allowed to feel your yearnings, and now, tonight, you could finally act on them. You certainly couldn’t think of a more beautiful, gentle, sexy partner to give yourself to than Loki.

“I think I’m ready for you,” you whispered. “I…I really want you, Loki. You’re the first being to show me such tender kindness, especially after I became a ‘reaper.’”

Loki chuckled without breaking his seductive demeanor. “Is that what you call yourself? Well, princess,” he said, gracefully pulling you off of the sofa to your feet, “the only thing you shall be reaping are the rewards of your obedience to me.”

Smiling, thrilled at the sexy shift to Loki’s tone, you nodded. The god asked, “Y/N, we know your touch won’t destroy me, but would you still like for me to bind you?”

“Yes.” You weren’t agreeing solely out of fear for Loki’s safety, not any more. “Please, an..and please talk to me, too.”

“With pleasure, princess. You were so brave for me, you’ve earned it,” Loki said slowly, leading you to the large, simply-constructed bed and shutting the door behind him. “Now, lie down, no need to remove any clothes.”

You obeyed without a word, which pleased your bodyguard as he stood, towering over you as you lay supine on the mattress. “Good girl,” he said melodically, the voice warming your core, smooth as butter and low as a gentle hum. He snapped his fingers, and with a quick wipe of green mist, both of your clothes fell instantly away, and he now stood before you entirely naked, and you splayed before him similarly.

“My, your skin radiates with warm beauty! Raise your arms out and to the side, or whatever position you would feel best.” You did so, again, without a word, taking your wrists and laying them out at an angle, making your breasts pull apart from one another and creating a gap in between them.

He waved his hand and snapped again, and you felt your wrists go heavy, as if a sandbag was weighing them down. You could move them a little, and you got the feeling you could twist yourself free if needed (not that you wanted to), but you were still securely on the bed, pinned at the wrists and ankles, your legs spread apart, exposing your quickly-wettening pussy to the air as well as your partner.

Loki moaned with approval. “Now, if you need me to lift these, please say so. Understood, lovely?”

You nodded. “Yes, Loki. I’ll do anything.”

Loki looked thoroughly satisfied at your answer. “Oh, you are so obedient! A natural submissive,” he said happily. “It is fortune’s highest blessing to be sharing a bed and home with you tonight…”

He lowered himself over the bed. “May I climb over you and look down upon my conquest?”

You nodded. “Yes, Loki.”

He climbed between your legs, kneeling up between them, his solid, chiseled torso towering above you, intimidating you the perfect amount to thrill you. “Now, I’m going to nibble on that darling little space you have right…here…”

He lowered his head between your breasts, using tongue and teeth to stake his claim on your skin, leaving tiny marks that only nipped a little as he worked his glorious sex magic on you. Every nip, lick, and moan from him made your folds wetter, heavier, needier.

“Y/N, I’m going to touch you now, in this sensitive spot between your legs,” Loki narrated. “I won’t put a finger inside your passage, but I am going to enjoy drawing little figures between your lips and pinching your pleasure bud. And you are going to writhe under me, increasingly needy as pleasure builds up, throbbing for my release…”

You gasped in pleasant surprise as he almost immediately took a hand and inserted two exploratory fingers between your folds. “Norns, my girl is dripping with desire for me. My good girl wants to please her savior!” He pressed his erection against the inside of your thigh as if to display with pride how quickly he’d been turned on by how you were grinding your hips, bucking against his hand.

His silky sweet words echoed in your brain, delirious with arousal. You wanted him to sing these narrations to you over and over. His rich, deep voice was almost enough to send you over your edge. Every word, every action he took, drove you crazy with delightful ache. He fiddled with your clit like it was a tiny marble between his thumb and forefinger, and every flick or twitch of it made you moan and pull against your invisible restraints just enough to feel helplessly anchored in place.

“Y/N, you are so wet, so ready for me already,” he moaned. “I can’t wait any longer. I’m going to fill you with my cock, and you’ll feel your walls stretching around me as I enter you--”

True to his word again, Loki took himself into his palm, positioning himself above you, his tip at your entrance, then, gently, slowly, he thrusted forward, and you felt a slight pinch as he claimed your cunt. Indeed, it felt like every cell inside you had to stretch in order to sheath Loki’s god-sized cock, but the little bit of pain you felt in the moment was quickly washed away in the violent shudders of pre-orgasm tremors that were already reaching critical mass in your core.

Loki arched his back, immediately growling in pleasure as he began thrusting, picking up tempo, sliding up and down your slickened walls with just enough friction to urge him to the edge quicker than he anticipated.

“Damn, but I’m coming…”

You were close, and you knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out for you much longer. “How hard are you coming?” was the smutty question you chose to coax his orgasm from him. “Tell me please! What does it feel like being inside me, Loki?”

Loki grunted animalistically as he concentrated. “You’re milking my cum from me, girl, you’re about to be so full of my seed--”

With the help from his narration, you finally felt your orgasm thunder down your passage and shake your thighs, pushing a high-pitched whine from you as your mouth fell open and your eyes slammed shut.

“Ah! There she is! My good girl!”

Loki’s fall almost immediately followed, marked by four remarkably hard thrusts as he came inside you, his breath heavy and quick. He brought a hand down to your clit and gently massaged it as your orgasm poured out into the open.

“Yes, ride it out with me, that’s my girl,” Loki purred.

Once you both were spent, Loki took your magic bonds off of you. It was still light outside, but you both agreed you were exhausted from your romp, and that perhaps an hour’s nap before supper would be welcome. Still naked, you both went underneath the covers, Loki turning onto his stomach so that he could rest his head under your arm, using your shoulder as his pillow.

“For as long as we are here, you will have nothing to be afraid of, pet,” your lover promised.

“Nothing?” you asked hopefully, already knowing that the strong, wonderful god in your arms was going to protect you for as long as you needed him.

“Your death touch, you have nothing to fear, for it brings me to life,” he whispered softly in your ear. You sensed he was nodding off, and sure enough, with that, his head fell on your shoulder, his breath settling into a softer, quieter rhythm.

Loki will take care of you…

You took a hand and began combing it through his hair, once again enjoying the old-but-new sensation of something other than leather against your fingertips.

@lokisgoodgirl @sarahscribbles @xorpsbane @mischief2sarawr @mochie85 @muddyorbs @michelleleewise @joyful-enchantress @fictive-sl0th @lady-rose-moon @coldnique @chantsdemarins @glitterylokislut @kellatron55 @holdmytesseract @holymultiplefandomsbatman @peachyjinx @trickster-maiden

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16woodsequ · 20 days

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Things People Seem to Forget About Steve Rogers (aka the past is complex)

Things in the future didn't happen in a vacuum, and while Steve missed a lot of stuff while he was in the ice, he would have seen the roots of things like the Civil Rights, Women's Rights and even LGBTQ+ Rights movements in his time.

While I'm sure Steve encountered a lot of people expecting certain right-wing behaviours from him, due to his birth year and the things he missed in the ice, this doesn't mean he would act that way—even right out of the ice.

But first lets take a look at the things Steve missed and see what he did in fact know:

The atom bomb. Steve never saw the atomic fallout, but what did he see? Hydra bombs literally being flown to his home city. There is also a possibility that as a specialty team, he learned about the German Nuclear Program during the war. His unit was tied to the Strategic Science Reserve, so I wouldn't be surprised if between that, and Hydra's bomb initiatives, Steve was well aware of the potential of a bomb threat. I doubt Steve has clearance to know about the Manhattan project, and I think he would be horrified to learn about the impact of the atom bomb on Japan (especially since he essentially thwarted the same thing from happening to New York) but majorly powerful bombs would not surprise him.

• The Cold War. Steve may not have experience the Cold War, but he grew up surrounded by the outcome of the First World War after the Communist take over of Russia. The debates surrounding Communism, Socialism, and Capitalism aren't new. Steve would have grown up with them and would probably be familiar with American pro-capitalist, anti-communist rhetoric. But would he agree?

Here's some things we know about Steve: He's an artist, he grew up during the Depression which was heavily mitigated by socialist measures, he grew up poor, he grew up disabled. As an artist Steve would be well aware of the debates between the political movements, and with his background, and the success of Roosevelt's New Deal reforms, it would not surprise me if Steve leaned more towards the Socialist side of the scale.

All this to say: Steve would not be unfamiliar with the tension between Russia and the USA. Especially since even though they were allies during the war, there were already concerns that the USSR wasn't so much 'liberating' the countries they drove Germany out of, as putting them under new management.

Steve would be familiar with the tensions underlying the Cold War, and his background might lead him to have a critical view of some of the pro-Capitalist propaganda that came out during the Cold War. While I don't think Steve would approve of Russia's methods and the ultimate outcome of Communism there, I don't think he would approve of the Red Scare Witch Hunt that happened in the States either.

• Civil Rights Movement. While Steve missed the major changes that occurred during the 50s and 60s, he would not be unfamiliar with movements for equality. Steve would also not be unaware of the inequality that minorities faced in his country.

For example:

National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) was established in 1909 and is still run today. The NAACP fought and fights against discrimination and advocates for equality.

In the 30s President Roosevelt responded to "to charges that many blacks were the "last hired and first fired," [his administration] instituted changes that enabled people of all races to obtain needed job training and employment. These programs brought public works employment opportunities to African Americans, especially in the North" (Link)

"The first precedent-setting local and state level court cases to desegregate Mexican and African American schooling were decided during [the late 1930s]" (Link)

In 1941 thousands of Black Americans threatened to march on Washington for equal employments rights which pushed Roosevelt to issue an executive order that "opened national defense jobs and other government jobs to all Americans regardless of race, creed, color or national origin." (Link)

The Double Victory or Double V Campaign during the war was an explicit campaign to win the war against fascism in Europe and the war against racism as home.

All this to say, Steve would not be unfamiliar with many of the issues tackled during the Civil Rights Movement of the 50s and 60s.

Not only that, but Steve led a multi-racial special unit during the war during a time of active army segregation. Not only does he have a Black man on his team, but also a Japanese man. This would have most definitely led to backlash from higher command as well as discrimination from other units against Jones and Morita. Steve and the entire Howling Commandos would be explicitly aware of prejudice against two of their members and likely had to fight for them many times.

• Anything space travel. It's true Steve wouldn't know anything about attempts to reach the moon. But there were still several space discoveries he could know about, especially since he and Bucky are clearly interested in scientific discoveries, considering how they went to the Stark Exbo before Bucky shipped out.

Some discoveries:

Hubble's Law: In 1929 Hubble published evidence for an ever expanding universe, and thus provided evidence of the Big Bang theory.

1930: Discovery of Pluto (makes me chuckle to think this is a relatively new discovery for Steve and he wakes up to find it is a dwarf-planet now. You think Millennials are protective of Pluto? I think Steve would be too 😆.)

1937: "the first intimation that most matter in the universe is `dark matter'"

Personally I think Steve would be absolutely amazed by the advances in space travel.

• Women's Rights. Like with Civil Rights, while Steve may have missed the large movements during the 50s and 60s, he was around for the early movements. The 60s movement is called Second Wave Feminism for a reason. This is because there was already many pushes for women equality in Steve's time.

For example:

1920: White women win the right to vote. This means Steve's mother first voted in his lifetime. I feel this alone would make Steve heavily aware of inequality faced by women. (As a side note I feel that Sarah always emphasized voting to Steve since it was such a major development in her lifetime.)

Also in the 20s the Flapper trend rose, along with hemlines. Women's skirts were shorter and they smoked and drank with men. Middle-class and working-class women also worked outside of the home. The 1920s-1930s 'modern' woman is very different from the Victorian vision of a woman in petticoats and skirts.

Early Birth Control movement: Was "initiated by a public health nurse, Margaret Sanger, just as the suffrage drive was nearing its victory. The idea of woman’s right to control her own body, and especially to control her own reproduction and sexuality, added a visionary new dimension to the ideas of women’s emancipation. This movement not only endorsed educating women about existing birth control methods. It also spread the conviction that meaningful freedom for modern women meant they must be able to decide for themselves whether they would become mothers, and when."

1936: A Supreme Court decision declassified birth control information as obscene. Legalised doctor-prescribed contraceptives.

WW2 Watershed: Women serve in the army and work factory jobs. The government establishes universal childcare while women work.

Women also wore pants and form fitting clothes to work in factories. We also see Peggy wearing pants during the last assault on Hydra. While Steve may need to get used to modern fashion, he would already be familiar with the 'morale outrage' over women's clothes in his time, and probably try to manage his surprise in private as well as possible.

• LGBTQ+ Rights. Like with the rest of the equality movements, LGBTQ+ rights movements also started before the late 1900s.

1924: "Society for Human Rights is founded by Henry Gerber in Chicago. The society is the first gay rights organization as well as the oldest documented in America." This organisation was broken up soon after founding due to arrests, but it published "the first American publication for homosexuals, Friendship and Freedom."

In the 1920s and 30s "the gay and lesbian movement started taking shape. Social analysts began rejecting prior medical definitions of "inversion" or "homosexuality" as deviant.

Communities of men and women with same-sex affiliations began to grow in urban areas. Their right to gather in public places such as bars was tenuous, and police raids and harassment were common." (Link)

WW2 Watershed: While many LGBTQ people lived in rural areas or outside 'queer neighbourhoods' the war brought people from all backgrounds together. "As with most young soldiers, many had never left their homes before, and the war provided them an opportunity to find community, camaraderie, and, in some cases, first loves. These new friendships gave gay and lesbian GIs refuge from the hostility that surrounded them and allowed for a distinct subculture to develop within the military."

They still had to hide their identities for fear of persecution and a 'blue discharge', however "Gay and lesbian veterans of World War II became some of the first to fight military discrimination and blue discharges in the years following the war."

It's unclear how much Steve would have known about the gay and lesbian rights movement. But in the comics he has a gay friend Arnie Roth, and there are many meta posts (X X X) about how Steve may have lived in a queer neighbourhood.

And, according to my history professor, gay and lesbian soldiers were often protected by their friends in the army instead of outed. This is not to downplay the discrimination and pain outed veterans faced, but there was a comaraderie and understanding that developed between soldiers that protected many gay soldiers.

• Computer and the internet. The seeds of modern computers began during World War Two. Arguably it began earlier with Ada Lovelace. While technology has changed a lot for Steve, there is a long history of it's development.

Colossus Computer: Kept secret until the 70s, it's unclear if Steve's association with the SSR, Peggy (who was a code breaker before SSR) and Howard, would have led him to know anything about the "the world's first programmable, electronic, digital computer", but we see electric screens and machines being used in Captain America: The First Avenger. So he would know something of those mechanisms.

Also the first American TV was broadcasted in the 1939 World Fair, And since Steve and Bucky are already shown going to a science fair, I believe it is reasonable for Steve to know about the concept of television, though it looks much different in modern day.

• Rise of Neo-Nazis. Steve already saw the rise of fascism in his own country before the war, so while I think he would be horrified and saddened to learn of the Neo-Nazi movement, I don't think he would be surprised.

Because:

Eugenics: A large part of the Nazi campaign, this part of the movement originated and was inspired by the United States Eugenics movement. "It is important to appreciate that within the U.S. and European scientific communities these ideas were not fringe but widely held and taught in universities."

Lobotomies and institutionalisations were part of the treatments for disabled and 'weak-minded' individuals during Steve's time. With Sarah being a nurse it is likely Steve knew of these treatments and more. And as a disabled child of immigrants, I have no doubts Steve brushed up with eugenics beliefs many times.

1939: More than 20,000 people attended a Nazi rally in Madison Square while "[a]bout 100,000 anti-Nazi protesters gathered around the arena in protest".

In the comics Steve canonically has a Jewish friend, Arnie Roth. If he wasn't part of the protests against the Nazi rally, he would have heard about it and known about the rise of antisemitic sentiment in the US before the outbreak of the war.

So Where Does That Leave Us?

Steve has a history of anti-racist behaviour. While he would still have a lot to learn from the Civil Rights Movement and no doubt has unconscious biases he grew up with, he also explicitly builds a multi-racial team that would have led to clashes with systemic racism in the army. This would have inevitably led to him and the Howling Commandos taking an anti-racist stance in protection of their members.

Would Steve say the N-word? Likely not. The N-Word already held negative connotations by the 19th and early-20th century. I doubt Jones would be willing to follow a man who would knowing use the insult. 'Coloured' or 'Negro' were seen as the more acceptable terms. So Steve may use those words at first, instead of 'Black' or 'African-American'. 'Negro' is a controversial term for some Black Americans, so this would be something for him to learn, but he would not purposely by insulting or hurtful. And I believe he would adapt as quickly as possible upon learning.

Steve saw the early steps of many social movements. Given what we know about Steve—artist, disabled, immigrant, poor, raised by a single mom, gay and Jewish friend, potentially lived around queer people, worked with Peggy and smiled when she punched a sexiest, and built a multi-racial team—Steve would not only be aware of the social movements of his time, but he would be happy to learn of the developments after he went into the ice.

While it would take some time for him to learn all the changes that happened, Steve's background would led him to be pleased with the changes in society. This is the opposite of being racist, sexist, and homophobic. Some things might take some adjusting for Steve to get used to, but he is already open-minded and has a frame of reference for many of the social changes that happened.

People sometimes bring up Steve's Catholic upbringing to argue about some beliefs he might have. But while I do think this upbringing would lead to some biases, I think Steve's life experience helped counter, or helped him unlearn some of those biases, even before he hit the ice.

Also, as an Irish-Catholic, Steve would have faced some discrimination of his own. It is most certainly not on the same level as other minorities, and things were better in the 20th century. Being very clear, any discrimination Steve faced for being Irish-Catholic would not be systemic or commonplace like racism. But adding his heritage to the rest of Steve's background helps give us a better idea of why he was already open to social movements like the Civil Rights movement before the ice. And it may have made him already more understanding of LGBTQ+ people, who he may have lived around, even if he grew up being taught certain biases.

Other Things We Forget About Steve

He is quite tech-savvy. While Steve would have a lot to learn, we know he is capable. There are a lot of jokes about his technical know-how in Avengers, but I think he's actually managing very well considering it's probably only been a few weeks or months since he came out of the ice.

Examples:

Deleted scene where we see Steve using a laptop in his apartment. He presses the spacebar to pause a video, which is a keyboard shortcut. So not only can he set up a laptop to watch a video, but he already knows key shortcuts.

Deleted scene where waitress mentions 'wireless'. Steve is confused and thinks she means radio. But I think he actually knows about wi-fi at this point, but probably had never heard it referred to as 'wireless' before. By this point he knows radio is not as common, so his real confusion is why the waitress is offering him 'free radio'. If she had said free wi-fi (the more typical phrase in my opinion) I think he would have understood.

Canon scene of Steve helping Tony fix the Helicarrier engines. This is my favourite evidence because Tony asks Steve to look at the relays and Steve makes a quip that they 'seem to run on some sort of electricity' indicating he is out of his depth. But we never see Tony tell Steve what to do. Steve figures out how to fix the relays himself. Tony is busy with the debris in the rotors and the next thing we see is Steve telling Tony the relays are all good.

Steve is much better at adapting and figuring out technology than we give him credit for. This doesn't mean he won't be anxious or uncomfortable with the sheer amount of stuff he has to learn (especially if everyone keeps making jokes about it to him). But by 2014, it's clear he's already mastered all of it, which is amazing when you think about it, because that's only two years of learning.

Steve is very book smart. In the comics Steve goes to art college, implying he finished high school. Even if he did drop out of high school to work, we know Steve is very smart.

We see him unloading a whole suitcase of books in the barracks before he got the serum.

The mental math is must take to throw the shield at the right angles for it to bounce back is insane.

Steve is also known as a master tactician. So it is clear he has the brains and smarts to run his team during the war. Not only that, but he is not just Captain in name. He actually has that rank, which means he passed the Captain's exam. I also have a feeling he would have needed to pass some kind of evaluation to get the serum in the first place.

We see in Steve's 2014 apartment that his bookshelves are full of history books. Steve is a veracious reader and spends a lot of his time catching up on what he missed. Things he didn't learn or were taught differently growing up would definitely exist, but Steve is actively working to counter that.

Steve would swear. Swearing has been a constant throughout all of history. So too, the backlash against profanity. Even if Steve grew up being told not to swear he would have heard it. And, Steve became a soldier. If he didn't swear before the war, he most definitely picked up some of it then.

I think Captain America isn't supposed to swear, and I think Steve would be aware of this perception of the symbol of him. But I think when Steve is comfortable with people, he would swear. We see in Avengers he doesn't swear, but in Avengers: Age of Ultron, he does.

We joke about Steve and the "Language" line, but I think that line has something to do with Steve's history of being perceived as a symbol and as Captain America since he said it 'just slipped out'. So, while Steve may have been encouraged not to swear growing up, and expected not to swear as Captain America, I fully believe that soldier, veteran, and Irish man Steve Rogers does swear.

Wrap up

I hope you liked this deep dive into Steve's history and character.

I think it can be easy to take the past as a lump sum and view everyone in the past through one lens. We know the past was racist, sexist, and homophobic, so we view everyone from the past that way.

And while it's true things were different back then, people were most definitely fighting for change and aware of the issues. There is also a lot of nuance to the past, and a lot that can be gleaned from what we know about Steve.

It's true that Steve would have a lot to learn when it comes to terminology and specific technology, but I believe Steve's background would prepare him for a lot of the social changes that happened after he went into the ice.

#steve rogers #meta #deep dive #long post #captain america #historically accurate #research #sources cited #early 20th century #20th century history #20th century #social movements #marvel #mcu #please don't tag the other post #no drama please #iykyk #historically accurate steve rogers

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deangirlsstuff67 · 1 year

Text

Death Confessions

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: mutual pining, soft Dean, language, mentions of smut, mentions of death

Summary: the boys and you are on a hunt only things don't go according to plan...

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You hate witches. Can't stand the miserable pricks.

Tonight, you and the boys had finally tracked down the local witch in town. Or should you say witches. Plural. And oh yeah, ex lovers as well.

The pair had decided to wage an all out war on one another and didn't seem to care that innocent people were getting hurt in the cross fire.

At some point during the battle, you were struck with a spell. You didn't think anything of it because nothing happened. The boys killed the pair while you were recovering from the blow and you got the hell out of town.

It's been 3 hours into your drive and you aren't feeling so hot anymore.

What the fuck did they do to you.

You're shivering but hot to the touch. Your stomach is in knots. And every time the oldest Winchester looks at you in the rear view mirror, you feel your underwear dampen.

Sam's asleep in the front seat and Dean is humming along with ACDC as he drives you all back to the bunker.

You don't want to panic anyone so you decide to wait it out. Rowena and Crowley are there currently and you're sure she will know what to do.

-------------------------------------------------------

Another 3 hours and the impala is pulling into the underground garage the bunker has. You've managed to pretend as if your sleeping to keep the boys from worrying.

Sam turns around to wake you when he notices somethings wrong.

Very wrong.

You're covered in a thin layer of sweat. You're burning hot to touch. Your body is shaking uncontrollably, and you can barely keep your eyes open.

"Dean, something is wrong with y/n." Sam yells at his brother, who is unloading your crap from the trunk.

Dean comes running around to your door and opens it, almost ripping it off its hinges. Seeing you in this state makes his blood boil with concern and a protectivness. Reaching in he gentle cradles you to his chest and with Sam's help gets you into the bunker.

Dean's gruff voice breaks through the fog in your mind. His strong arms feel like bliss as he hold you close. His aftershave surrounds you, making your mouth water. A small moan slips from your lips as you feel your walls clench around nothing.

"Sammy go get Rowena. Tell her y/n was hit by one of the witches. I'm taking her to my room."

You vaguely feel him place you in his bed and cover you in his blankets. His scent is all around you and it's clouding your mind with nasty thoughts about the green eyed hunter.

You've always had a crush on Dean. He's charming, built like a damn model, and treats you as if you're the most precious thing on this earth.

Sadly, the womanizing Winchester has never looked at you more than a best friend. You hang, watch movies together, train once in a while, and he cooks you amazing meals. Nothing more than friends, and you're okay with that.

Better than nothing.

Whatever they hit you with is bringing out your desire for Dean. The same desire you buried deep down and try to avoid at all costs.

Another moan slips out as you feel slick running down your thigh.

Fuck this is embarrassing.

Just then, Sam returns with Rowena in tow. Thank God. Please make it go away. He can't find out like this.

"Oh dear. Sweetie what are you feeling?" Out of all the witches you've developed a soft spot for the red head in front of you. Sure she always has an end game that benefits her, but the woman is strong and resilient. You've got to respect that.

"Cold and uncomfortable." You don't know how else to describe it without completely embarrassing yourself.

Rowena exams you. You see when she clues in. The knowing smirk on her face.

"Well the good news is she will be fine. However," she looks over at the boys then, "someone will have to stay with her tonight and help her work it out of her system."

Dean and Sam share a confused look before Sam speaks up, "what?"

"It's simple. For whatever reason the witch cast a fuck or die spell. I'm sure y/n here wasn't their target but either way she needs to fuck it from her system or she will die in 24 hours."

Your eyes go wide as you listen, "I'm sorry, what?!?"

"It's the only way Dear."

"No. There has to be something else you can do Rowena. Anything else." You were too busy freaking out to catch the look of disappointment the crossed Dean's face. However, Sam wasn't. Even though the oldest Winchester never admitted it out loud, Sam knew how his brother felt about you.

"Y/N it's okay. Dean can stay with you and help you any way you allow." The younger brother said before he motioned for Rowena to follow him out of Dean's room. Leaving you and the green eyed hunter alone.

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"Y/N let me help you." At this point the spell has gotten so bad you won't allow Dean to touch you. Which is of course frustrating the living hell out of him.

"No, Dean its okay."

"The fuck it is. You're dying and I can help. Why won't you let me?"

"It's too much to ask from you. We're friends Dean but even friends have limits."

"If it saves you I'm willing to do anything!" He's temper has taken over. Not understanding why you won't let him save you.

What the hell, you're dying anyway.

"Are you serious Dean!" You're outburst shocks him. He goes to speak but you cut him off.

"No Winchester, shut up and listen. For three years I've watched you take home girl after girl. For three years I've sat at that table or in your Baby and listened as you told us everything you did with them the night before. Not once complaining. Not once telling you how jealous I fucking was. I'm not your type and I get it. But don't think for one minute I will throw away the closet thing I'll ever have with you just to save my life." You point your finger in his direction as you continue.

"I fucking love you dumbass. I've been waiting, hoping you'd see me more as what we are. Hoping you'd get your head out of your ass and see that I'm the perfect girl for you. I'm a freaking hunter. I know the life and the risks. But no, instead you waltz every bimbo you can in front of me like some prized fucking pig."

Before you can continue chewing him a new asshole Dean pounces on you. Strong finger tangle in your hair and his soft lips dominate yours. The surprise subsides and you begin to kiss him back.

"You done yelling at me sweetheart? Cause I got something to say. I've loved your snarky ass since the moment you told me to blow you three years ago when we crossed paths on the vampire hunt. I love everything about you and I only ever got with those women because I knew you could do better than me. I'm not worth the pain y/n, but God dammit if you feel the same than why not try. "

He pushes his large erection into your wet core. You can't help but moan at the feeling. Dean smirks down at you.

"Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to fuck you good and hard for as long as we need to so we can save your life. Then I'm going to make you breakfast before I spend the day worshiping this beauty body how I should. You okay with that princess?"

"Don't call me princess."

"Shut up and kiss me woman."

And kiss you did. Every part of your body as he did exactly as he promised. Fucking you in every position. When he's big, fat cock needed a break he was making you cum with his tongue or fingers. Over and over again until your body began to go back to normal and fatigue set in.

When you woke in his warm, safe arms you found Dean staring at you. You've never seen his eyes shine so bright.

"Feeling better?"

"Yeah I am. Thank you." You lean up and kiss him.

"Let's get you some food." He jumps out of bed and walks to his dresser, finding you one of his shirts. You through it on before you walk out of his room hand in hand.

Sam is already sitting at the table when you walk in together. He looks up from his tablet and just smiles.

"Shut up Sammy." Dean barks as he swats your ass and begins to get the ingredients for breakfast.

"I'm just happy Dean. You got your girl and we didn't lose y/n."

Dean looks over at you and smiles. Fuck you love that man.

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Taglist:

@syrma-sensei @yvonneeeee @nancymcl @foxyjwls007 @lessons-of-red @senjoritanana @leigh70 @tristanrosspada-ackles @maggiegirl17 @neii3n

#jensen ackles #dean girl #dean winchester #supernatural #spn fanfic #dean x you #deanwinchtser #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x original female character #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester smut

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spnhunter4life · 1 year

Text

Familiar

Summary: Sam, Dean and Y/N are on a case, and it turns out Y/N is just the monster's type.

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings: reference to nonconsensual sex, canon typical violence

A/N: I've had this one done for a couple of weeks, but things have been very busy and so I just finally got around to doing a reread/edit of it. I hope everyone enjoys it!

This one includes the writing prompt "character A flipping positions and shoving B against a wall 'now this seems more familiar doesn’t it?'"

I don't remember where I found this. I have a list of prompts I saved, but didn't include who posted them, so if you happen to know where this came from, let me know and I'll give credit to that person.

Also, I've had someone ask me to be tagged in new stories I post. I am happy to do this, so if anyone else is interested in being tagged, let me know!

Masterlist

I met the Winchesters for the first time five years ago when I was 22. I was in college and had just moved to a new dorm building that turned out to be haunted by a ghost. I had been the next intended target when Dean and his dad stepped in and saved me. That was the last time I would see either of them for a long time, but I never forgot the faces of the people who had saved my life.

After that experience, I was obsessed with the supernatural. Dean and I had talked a little bit before they left town, and he told me about how he and his dad traveled the country killing monsters. I wanted to do that too. I wanted to be able to save people’s lives the way they had saved mine.

So a couple months later I dropped out of school and started getting ready to hunt. I signed up for a gym membership and started going everyday as well as taking boxing and Krav Maga lessons. My life had given very little opportunity for me to build muscle or learn to fight. But I wasn’t stupid enough to go into a fight with a supernaturally strong creature completely unprepared.

I gave myself a year to get in shape and learn to defend myself. During this time, I put every spare minute I had into research. I looked into what kinds of monsters were out there, how to kill them, which ones were most common. While doing all this research, I ran into a man named Bobby Singer. He had all kinds of helpful information and taught me how to track them down. I started the process of purchasing weapons I would need and also saving up money.

Once I felt ready, I set off on my first hunt. The overwhelming satisfaction I felt at saving a person from the ghost that had been haunting them was too much to ignore. I knew without a doubt now that this is what I should be doing with my life. So I went on another hunt. And another.

Things were a little rough going at first and I got more injuries than I cared to admit – fighting a trained professional in a controlled environment wasn’t the same as going up against an angry monster – but my fighting skills improved and things started going smoother soon enough. I didn’t regret my choices.

I ran into Dean a little over a year later. I was looking into what I suspected to be a witch and had stopped for lunch at a local burger joint when I saw him. I recognized him immediately and went to talk to him. It took a little bit for him to remember me, but he did. When he asked what I was doing so far from home, I told him what I’d been up to since the day he saved my life. He seemed surprised and impressed. Apparently the people he saved didn’t often take up hunting afterwards.

When I asked after his dad, he told me that they were starting to work separate cases on occasion. They still hunted together too, but not as often.

Since we were both in town for the same reason, we agreed to work the case together. It was difficult at times, learning to rely on another person and factor their thoughts and opinions into what we were doing. I’d never hunted with someone else before. In other ways, though, it was so much easier. I decided I kind of liked having a partner. Dean and I worked well together.

He must have thought so too, because the day after we finished that hunt, he asked if I wanted to come with him to look into a string of suspicious murders a couple states over. I’d been hunting with him – and occasionally his dad – ever since.

About nine months into our new arrangement, his dad went missing and so we picked up his brother Sam from school to help find him. Adding him to the mix had been another adjustment. That was two years ago now though, and we’d all found an easy rhythm together.

“We should go check this out,” Dean said, sliding the newspaper he’d been looking at across the table to Sam and pointing at one of the articles.

We were at a diner waiting for our breakfast to be brought out. Sam scanned the article.

“I don’t know, Dean,” Sam said, passing the newspaper to me when I motioned for it. I skimmed the article Dean had found.

“Come on, Sam. Three murder suicides in under two weeks. That’s weird,” Dean insisted.

“It is weird. I just don’t see how it’s our kind of weird,” Sam answered.

“Y/N? What do you think? You agree with me, don’t you?” Dean asked, confident I’d back him up. We typically saw things pretty eye to eye. Not always though.

“Well, actually I agree with Sam. There’s nothing here that really makes it sound like our kind of thing. But,” I continued, saying the word a little louder to stop Dean’s protest. “It’s only a few hours away and we have nothing else to do right now. So we might as well go check it out.”

“Alright, fine,” Sam agreed, sighing at the triumphant look on Dean’s face. “But I really think we’re wasting our time.”

“Right. Because we’ve got much more important, productive things going on here,” Dean said sarcastically.

“It’s never a waste of time,” I said. “Even if it ends up being nothing, making sure people aren’t being killed by something supernatural isn’t a waste. What if we decide it’s not worth checking out and it turns out it is our kind of thing? Then those deaths would be on us.”

“Ok, yes, you’re right. I already said we could go check it out,” Sam said.

“Well thanks for the permission, Sammy. I really don’t think we could’ve moved forward without it,” Dean snarked.

“Bite me,” Sam answered.

“Alright, cut it out you two,” I scolded.

The waiter brought our food out and we spent the meal trying to come up with ideas of what we could be dealing with. We didn’t come up with much since we had so little information to go off of. Dean paid our bill and we were just heading out the door when something occurred to me.

“Oh! What if it’s a siren?” I suggested.

“A siren? From Greek mythology? Like in The Odyssey?” Dean asked.

“What?” Sam looked at his brother in surprise.

“What?” Dean asked, a little smug and a little offended.

“What do you know about sirens?” Sam asked me, moving past his shock at Dean’s knowledge.

“Not much,” I admitted. We reached the car and I climbed into my usual spot behind Sam. “All the vics have been couples though, right?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Dean confirmed, turning in his seat to face me. “Is that important?”

“All I really know about sirens is that once they infect you they convince you to kill someone you love. The only siren case I’ve heard of had several husbands killing their wives before it was stopped. So maybe in this case once the men realize what they’ve done, they kill themselves.”

“Seems like the best theory we’ve come up with,” Dean said. He backed the Impala out of the parking spot and headed out of town towards the highway.

“Let’s get there and do some digging around before we settle on a theory,” Sam cautioned. “But say you’re right. How do we kill it?”

“I don’t know. I’ve already given you the extent of my knowledge on the subject.”

“Okay. Well at least we have a starting point. We can look into it more if that still seems like the most likely scenario after we’ve investigated things a little bit,” Sam said.

Apparently deeming the conversation finished, Dean turned up the music. I leaned my head against the window and watched the road blurring by.

~~~~~

The bar we were at was crowded, the music was loud, and the guy I was talking to was cute. Not stop and stare cute, but cute enough that when he came over to where I was standing at the bar and started flirting, I flirted back.

“So how long are you in town for?” Cute guy asked. I vaguely noted Dean in my peripheral vision, making his way to the bar. If I’d been paying attention, I would have noticed how irritated he looked. But I was trying not to notice him. He and I were just friends and would never be more. I’d accepted that. It meant I couldn’t let myself be distracted by him when there was a guy standing right in front of me who was interested.

“Don’t know yet,” I answered, giving him my best flirty smile. “I’m definitely here for the night though.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Dean interrupted. “Come on Y/N. Sam’s waiting for us.”

“Woah, hey, come on man,” cute guy protested. “You can’t just come in here and force her to leave. We were in the middle of a conversation.”

“You were, were you? Sorry pal, but we’ve got important things to do. Go find someone else to bother.” Dean grabbed my arm and pulled me with him, away from the bar and towards the exit.

“Dean!” I hissed as I was forced to follow along behind him. “What is your problem?” I asked when we made it outside.

“What’s my problem?” Dean echoed, letting go of my arm and turning to face me. “What’s your problem? You know what we’re after here. What made you think it was a good idea to offer to go home with some random guy who for all we know could be the siren?”

I scoffed and started to walk towards the car, but Dean grabbed me again and pushed me up against the building. He stepped in close and put an arm on either side of my head, effectively caging me in.

“What are you doing?” I asked. It didn’t sound quite as irritated as I wanted it to. His close proximity mixed with the few drinks I’d downed had me too overwhelmed to hold on to my anger.

“Next time you’re wanting to scratch an itch in the middle of a case where the monster we’re after seduces people into murder, just save us the trouble and come to me instead,” he instructed. Then before I knew what was happening, he leaned in and kissed me.

I gasped in surprise and he used the opportunity to lick into my mouth. Finally catching up to what was happening, I wrapped my arms around his neck, threading my fingers through his hair and eagerly kissing him back. I never could have predicted this, but I was so thrilled it was happening.

He made his way to my neck. He kissed a couple of different spots before finding a spot he liked and starting to suck and nip-

I woke up with a jolt and a gasp. I quickly took in my surroundings and realized I’d fallen asleep in the back of the Impala.

“You ok?” Dean asked, turning in his seat to look at me. I realized we were parked outside a motel. The engine turning off must have been what woke me. I briefly met his eyes and was immediately bombarded with the images from my dream.

“Yeah,” I told him. I managed to successfully fight the blush that tried to rise in the presence of the very man I’d just been dreaming about. It wasn’t the first time I’d had this sort of dream about the older Winchester. I doubted it would be the last.

Dean went inside to get us a room. We unloaded our bags and made a plan. We decided the boys would drop me off at the police station to talk to the sheriff while they went to question the medical examiner. We would meet at a diner a few blocks away from the police station when we were done.

“What’s the connection between all of these people?” I asked Sheriff Jones once I’d introduced myself and explained why I was there.

“Connection?” He asked.

“Yeah. This many murder suicides in this short of a time, there’s something going on here. Maybe you’re wrong about the suicide part and it’s just flat out murder. Maybe it’s some sort of messed up pact these people made. There has to be something that connects them though. So what is it?”

“As far as we can tell, there is no connection between any of them. Sometimes these things just happen,” he said.

“How long have you been sheriff?” I asked. He was starting to get up in age, probably in his mid to late 50s at a guess. I assumed he’d been a police officer for a long time.

“Almost 20 years,” he informed me proudly.

“And in those 20 years, how many times have you seen something like this? Three different couples killing each other and themselves. One after another.”

“Well… never,” he admitted.

“Right. So what’s the connection? Graduated from the same high school? Go to the same gym? In a bowling league together? There has to be something that connects them other than them all being married.”

“Actually, they weren’t all married,” Jones corrected.

“I was told they were,” I said.

“The last couple wasn’t. They were roommates, but as far as I’m aware, that’s as far as the relationship went.”

Damn. Did this throw a wrench in my siren theory? Not necessarily. Just because they weren’t together doesn’t mean one of them wasn’t secretly in love with the other. Or maybe they were really close and loved each other in a non romantic way.

“Great. I’m gonna need a list of close family and friends of all the victims,” I requested.

“What for?” He asked.

“To find the connection. You figure out the pattern, you have a chance of stopping it from happening again,” I said frustratedly. How were these idiots not investigating this further? Did they really believe it was just all a coincidence?

Jones gave me a list of names and I left. I scanned the list on my walk to the diner, trying to figure out where to start and how long it might take to talk to these people. I rounded a corner and ran into an extremely attractive man.

“Sorry!” I apologized as he nearly spilled the coffee he was carrying.

“No worries,” he said, flashing a charming smile. “No harm done.”

Had I not spent every day of the past three years sharing close quarters with the most attractive man I’d ever seen in my life, I might have been caught off guard and turned into a mumbling mess. But my time with Dean mixed with the quick thinking and lying that was sometimes necessary for hunting meant I was able to keep it together.

“Still. I should have been watching where I was going.”

“Well in that case, I was just on my way to get some lunch. How about you make it up to me by coming with?” He offered. It only took me a few seconds of consideration to make a decision.

“Sorry, but I’m busy. I’m on my way to meet a couple of colleagues for a kind of work lunch,” I told him.

“Ah. Well, maybe next time,” he smiled.

“Maybe,” I agreed, knowing there wouldn’t be a next time. I sighed as I continued my walk to the diner. He was awfully good looking. Under different circumstances, I probably would have taken him up on his offer.

I walked the last couple of blocks and noted that the familiar black car wasn’t in the parking lot. I went in, found an open table that would fit all three of us, and sat down. I had to wait about ten minutes before Sam and Dean walked in.

“Hey. What did you find out?” I asked once they were seated.

“Not much. There wasn’t anything unusual about the bodies as far as anyone could tell. The ME did say that based on the most recent body, she wondered if the suicides weren’t actually suicides though. She’s looking over the other two bodies again to see if it could have been staged to look like a suicide,” Sam told me.

“That qualifies as not much to you?” I asked. “I mean, granted it doesn’t really up the weird factor. But what if they missed something else too? Something they wouldn’t know to look for?”

“That’s exactly what I said,” Dean said smugly.

“Whatever. I’m not having this discussion again,” Sam told his brother as the waiter came over. We rattled off our orders to him and waited for him to leave before continuing.

“Did you find anything?” Sam asked.

“No. I do have a list of people for us to talk to though,” I answered. I took the list out of the pocket I’d tucked it into after folding it up and handed it to Sam.

“What, the cops have a suspect list?” Dean asked.

“No,” I snorted. “Whether or not this ends up being our kind of case, I feel bad for the people in this town. Their idiot sheriff doesn’t even think it’s worth looking into. It’s an open and shut case as far as he’s concerned.”

“What’s your list then?” Dean questioned, leaning over to read over Sam’s shoulder.

“Close family and friends,” I answered. “I’m hoping we can figure out what connects them all.”

“Right,” Sam said. “It’s not like we can monitor every single married couple in this town on the off chance they might get murdered.”

“Actually, they weren’t all married,” I told him. “I guess the last two were just roommates.”

“There goes the siren theory,” Dean sighed.

“Not necessarily. It still could be,” I said.

“How?”

“Sirens don’t target married people specifically,” I explained. “They just make you kill someone you love.”

“So you’re saying they were living together as friends but secretly in love?” Dean asked.

“Maybe. Or maybe not. Love doesn’t have to be romantic.”

The waiter brought out our food and we made a plan as we ate. Dean wanted to check out the crime scenes first. Sam argued that we might get more information from talking to people. I wanted to side with Dean because I really wasn’t looking forward to interviewing ten different people, but I had to agree with Sam. Might as well get this part out of the way. We could look at the victims’ houses after.

~~~~~

Several hours and too many interviews full of crying loved ones later, we stood in our motel room going over the information we’d gathered today. The ME had called an hour ago and confirmed that it was flat out murder, not murder suicide. We hadn’t gotten any useful information out of any of the people we talked to today though, and we were all a little frustrated.

“Alright, well the roommate vics were extremely close,” Sam recapped, thinking out loud. “Which means Y/N’s theory on them loving each other pans out, leaving a siren as the most likely culprit. But how are we supposed to find it? We still don’t have anything that links these people together,” Sam grumbled.

“And why is it killing people?” I added. “Usually they leave the killing to their victims. Maybe we missed something.”

“Or,” Dean cut in, standing up from the chair he’d been in. “We'll find the answers we need at the crime scenes. Which I said we should look at four hours ago.”

“Yeah, Dean. We know,” Sam snapped.

“Let’s just figure out our next step,” I interjected.

“Maybe we should do some research on sirens. It would be easier to track it if we can figure out where they live, how they make people do what they want, that sort of thing,” Sam suggested.

“C’mon Sam, we’ve spent all day doing research on the victims. Now you’re telling me you want to do more research?” Dean complained. “What we should do is go to their houses. I’m telling you, if we want answers, that’s where we’ll find them.”

“Maybe, but we still have to know what we’re up against,” Sam pointed out. “Why don’t you and Y/N go check out the houses. I’ll stay here and research,” he suggested.

“Fine. Let’s go,” Dean said, satisfied with this compromise. He went outside and I heard the Impala’s engine roar to life a few seconds later.

Sam grabbed his laptop and settled in to work while I grabbed my coat.

“Let us know if you find anything,” I said. Sam assured me he would and then I followed Dean out the door.

We decided to split up to cover ground faster. Dean would drop me off at the first house and head to the second house himself. When he was done there he would pick me up and we would look at the last place together.

Dean parked outside the first house, a small blue one with a row of flowers planted along the front of it.

“I’ll call you when I’m on my way back,” he told me as I was getting out of the car. He drove away and I walked into the house, ducking under the police tape strung up on the door.

The first room I walked through was the kitchen. Other than a few unwashed dishes in the sink, it was spotless. I knew the murders had happened in the bedroom, so I didn’t expect to see much in the rest of the house, but I was looking for any sort of clue that would lead us to the siren. I took a quick look at the pictures on the fridge but didn’t see anything that would help.

The next room was the living room which was also clean. A cursory scan of the room told me these two were huge movie fans. There were several movie posters hanging up on the walls, an entertainment center overflowing with DVDs, and a little box full of old movie tickets. I didn’t know how this could be a connection with the other couples, but it was clearly a big part of their lives, so it was worth making a mental note of. Other than that, I didn’t see much. A brochure for a yoga class stuck underneath a pile of magazines on the coffee table. A framed picture of the two skiing was hanging on the wall. I noticed a coffee mug with what I assumed was the name of a local bar printed on the side. I made another mental note of both the yoga class and the bar just in case.

Then I moved on to the bedroom. Even if I hadn’t known ahead of time what happened in here, it would have been pretty clear. There was a bloodstain on the bed and the blankets were rumpled, like there had been a struggle on top of them. One of the pillows was knocked on the floor. The nightstand on the left side of the bed had been knocked over, a picture frame shattered beside it. And there was a second blood stain on the cream carpet.

I braced myself, turning off the part of my brain that wanted to be horrified and turn away from the scene. I looked around the room for any sort of clue as to who the siren might be or where it might have gone. It would be a lot easier if I knew what exactly I was looking for. Sam was right. We should have done the research first.

After thoroughly searching the bedroom and the bathroom and finding nothing, I made my way back out of the house. I wasn’t quite ready to give up yet, but I was getting more doubtful that this wasn’t something the real FBI should be handling. I stepped back outside and saw the cute guy from earlier walking past. He heard the door close behind me and looked over.

“Oh, it’s you,” I said. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he answered as I walked towards him. “I do believe that’s a crime scene you just walked out of. Not exactly legal.”

“It is when you’re FBI,” I told him, pulling out my badge. It identified me as agent Y/N Perry.

“That explains why I haven’t seen you around before,” he said, not seeming overly surprised by the news.

“What are you doing here?” I asked again.

“I live next door,” he told me. “I didn’t really know them. Terrible what happened though.”

“It is,” I agreed. My phone rang and I took it out of my pocket, seeing Sam’s name on the screen. I excused myself to answer it.

“Hey, Sam. What did you find?”

“Have you heard from Dean?” He asked urgently.

“No, why?” I asked, immediately worried. Before he could answer, everything went dark.

~~~~~

Sam’s POV

“What do you got, Sam?” Dean asked immediately upon answering my call.

“Not much, but I think I’m starting to figure out more about this siren,” I told him. I hadn’t had time to gather much information yet, but what I had found mixed with a quick phone call to the ME was starting to clear things up.

“Like what?”

“So get this. When sirens… put you under their spell or whatever, it leaves high levels of a hormone called oxytocin in your blood.”

“So?”

“So, I called the ME and asked her about it. There were high traces in three of the victims. The female victims. For whatever reason, this siren is going after the women, not the men.”

“Son of a bitch! Please tell me you called Y/N before you called me,” Dean said.

“Why? Aren’t you together?”

“No,” Dean growled out in a tone of voice that suggested stress and frustration. “We split up to move faster.”

“Alright. Well don’t worry. I’m sure she’s fine. I’ll call her now,” I said, trying to calm him.

“I’m going back to get her. I’ll call her on the way.”

Before I could argue that he was already worked up enough and should just focus on driving I heard a thump, Dean grunting, and then the sound of his phone clattering on the ground.

“Dean!” I yelled. No response. I hung up and headed outside. I needed to find a car. Once I had one ready to go, I started driving to the closest address on the list.

~~~~~

Y/N’s POV

The first thing that registered in my mind was the way my body was shaking. I heard a distant voice calling my name as consciousness slowly found me. It took a few seconds for me to fully wake up and process what was happening. The shaking was due to the hand on my shoulder, trying to jostle me into consciousness. The voice was Dean’s, and it wasn’t distant. It was right in front of me.

My head was pounding. I tried to remember what happened. I was outside waiting for Dean. Sam called. Then what?

“Y/N!” Dean said a little louder. I opened my eyes and immediately closed them again, hissing at the pain that shot through my skull from the bright light in the room. Someone must have hit me over the head. Who? No one else had even been around. Except for that guy I bumped into earlier. He must be the siren then.

I felt a surge of frustration at my stupidity. How did I miss it? I knew it was weird that he just happened to be outside that house.

“C’mon. We should get out of here,” Dean encouraged, pulling me to my feet.

“Just a minute,” I pleaded as a wave of dizziness rushed over me upon standing. I braced my hand on the wall beside me.

“What happened?” He asked. “You didn’t answer the phone.”

Once the dizziness passed, I slowly opened my eyes. The pounding in my head was intense, but it was more manageable when I took things slow.

“Where is he?” I asked.

“Who, the siren? Dead,” he told me. That was good news I guess. I didn’t know how much help I’d be in a fight right now. He was almost entirely supporting my weight. Then something occurred to me.

“How?” I asked, looking up at his face. “We don’t know how to kill them.”

“Well I had a machete with me. I couldn’t walk in here completely defenseless. When I saw him standing over you, I cut his head off. Apparently that’s all it takes,” he explained.

I looked around the room, searching for the body, and realized this was the house of the first murdered couple. We were in the living room.

“He brought me in here?” I asked.

“Well. It was close by. And there isn’t much chance of anyone walking in. Made it easy for me to find you, too. How are you feeling? Ready to go?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I told him. My head was still pounding, but the dizziness was gone.

“Good,” he said, carefully turning me to face him. “I was really worried about you.” Then he kissed me.

I so badly wanted to be able to enjoy this. I’d dreamed about it so many times but never imagined I’d ever build up the courage to tell him how I felt. Or that my feelings would be reciprocated.

I placed one hand on the back of his neck and gave myself a couple of seconds to be sure my balance was good. Then in one quick motion I stepped to the side and used the hand around his neck to shove him face first into the wall.

“Ow! What the hell?!” He yelled, clutching a hand to his bleeding nose.

“Where’s Dean?” I asked, watching closely for any indication he was about to run or attack.

“I am Dean!” He insisted. He held a hand out placatingly and took a step towards me.

“Stay back,” I warned him. I reached into my boot and grabbed the silver knife I kept there at all times. “I know a shapeshifter when I see one.”

He dropped his hands and stood up straighter, a cocky smile gracing his mouth. He started to walk in a slow circle around me.

“What gave me away?” He asked casually.

“A few things,” I answered, rotating my body to keep him directly in front of me at all times.

“Like?”

“Where’s Dean?” I asked again.

“Oh, he’s fine for now. Just a little tied up at the moment,” he smirked.

I lunged for him, hoping to catch him by surprise. He easily blocked the knife I had aimed directly at his heart and threw a punch that caught me in the stomach. The force of the blow knocked the breath out of me, but I recovered quickly and slashed out with the knife at the hand that was reaching for my hair. He hissed in pain and quickly withdrew his hand.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” the fake Dean growled. “You know you can’t win. Might as well save yourself some of the pain.”

My head was killing me and the dizziness was threatening to return and become a very serious problem. I waited for his next attack. I didn’t have to wait long. I saw his muscles tense to move and then he closed the distance between us quickly.

He reached out for the hand that was holding the knife, trying to force it out of my grip without touching it. I took advantage of the way he focused on the knife to kick his knee as hard as I could. His knee buckled and I used all the strength I had to push him into the wall behind him. I pressed the knife to his throat.

“Where is Dean?” I demanded.

“What gave me away?” He asked again. I couldn’t believe the arrogance. Did he really not care about anything but the fact that I’d seen through him?

“I’m not going to ask again,” I threatened, pressing the knife just a little harder into his skin. “Where is he?”

“Quid pro quo,” he offered. “Answer my question, I’ll answer yours.”

I seriously debated just killing him, but decided to humor him just this once. He wasn’t going anywhere and I’d get the answer out of him one way or another.

“First of all, Dean wouldn’t just sit there waiting for me to wake up. He would have just carried me out. Secondly, he has a scratch on his jaw that hasn’t healed all the way yet. That particular scratch is missing from your face. Third, if he’s not sure which weapon to bring with, he always chooses his gun. Silver kills a lot of things, so it’s usually the safest bet. Also, where’s the body? You said you killed the siren, but there isn’t a body. And as far as that goes, you don’t have a machete either.”

“Hmm. You’re observant,” he said. “Not observant enough though. Otherwise you probably would have seen this coming.”

His hand shot up and grabbed my wrist, pushing the knife away from his neck. He pressed hard on the tendons there until I was forced to drop the knife. Then he spun us around, pressing me up against the wall. He pinned both of my wrists to the wall and leaned in close, his breath brushing my face.

“Now this seems more familiar, doesn’t it?” He smiled.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I spat.

“No?” He mocked, pressing his cheek to mine and talking directly into my ear. “You’ve never dreamed about Dean pressing you into the nearest wall and kissing you breathless? I think you have. Many times. As recently as just a few hours ago.”

I whipped my head to the side to look at him. He grinned triumphantly.

“That’s right. I’ve been inside your head. I know exactly how you feel about this pretty boy of yours.”

I bristled at the way he had stolen Dean’s face, tried to use it against me, and was now flaunting that fact.

“You don’t know anything,” I spat. He just continued as if I hadn’t said anything.

“That’s why I chose you. It was pure coincidence running into you, but you’re a very attractive woman, so I figured I’d give it a shot.”

“Give what a shot? Murder? News flash, you’ve already done that. I’d suggest branching out and finding a new hobby.” I pushed lightly against his hands, testing the possibility of breaking free. That wasn’t an option. He was holding on tight, and I wouldn’t be able to beat him in a battle of strength.

He smiled and kept ignoring me.

“You see, I had to turn into you first to get in your head and see if you fit what I was looking for. It was a shock, of course, to find out that you’re a hunter. But it turns out you did fit my needs, and you and your friends were so far off the mark, I knew I’d be safe enough.”

“What do you mean, I fit your needs?” I asked. I had a plan to escape his hold, but as long as he was content to talk, I wanted answers.

“Well you’re in love of course,” he said.

“So?” I didn’t bother denying it. Like he said, he’d already been in my head.

“So,” he answered as if I was being extremely stupid. “Isn’t it so much better being with someone when you’re in love?”

I felt my brow wrinkle in confusion. Being with someone? What was he talking about? What did it have to do with murder?

I felt a wave of horror and disgust wash over me as I understood his meaning. He’d posed as the men the women were in love with and slept with them before murdering them both.

“If it’s any consolation, they died happy,” he told me. “Well,” he amended. “The women did, anyway.”

“So what?” I snarled. “You thought you’d come in here looking like Dean and I’d just take my clothes off for you? Just like that?”

“Well, not just like that. But I figured you’d be willing enough once I had some time to convince you.”

I remembered how he had kissed me before. I assume that was the kind of convincing he was referring to.

“We still could, you know,” he offered. He brushed his lips gently against mine and I jerked away. “You can pretend I’m him and I’ll give you what you’ve always wanted.”

“Right before you kill me, you mean?”

“Well obviously I can’t let you live,” he said.

“I think I’ll pass,” I said. I drove my knee up as hard as I could into his crotch. He may not have been entirely human, but he still went down as hard as any human man.

I dropped down to pick up my knife, doing my best to ignore the pain the quick movement caused in my head. I didn’t give the shapeshifter time to recover. I immediately turned to him and drove the knife into his heart. He gasped in shock and pain and then collapsed, unmoving.

I rose to my feet and made my way – a little unsteadily – out of the house. I was pretty sure I had a concussion and that fight had taken all the strength and energy I could muster. As I stepped out of the house, a car came screeching down the road and parked next to the only other car on the street. I didn’t know if I could really handle it, but I prepared myself for another fight.

The driver door opened and a tall man stepped out. Sam, I realized when he called my name. And the car he was in was the Impala. How had he gotten it? Sam ran over to me and put a steadying hand on my shoulder.

“Are you ok? What happened?” He asked.

“Where’s Dean?” I asked, ignoring his questions.

“I don’t know. I’ve been looking for both of you,” Sam said. “I found Dean’s car at the second house, but no sign of him. I was hoping I’d find him here with you.”

Just then we heard a muffled banging noise coming from the other car on the street.

“Stay here,” Sam told me, drawing his gun as he walked towards it. I was in no position to argue seeing as the dizziness was returning and I was struggling to keep my balance. He stopped by the trunk of the car. “Dean?”

“Sam! Get me out of here,” I heard Dean say from inside.

“Just a second,” Sam breathed out in relief. He tucked his gun back into his jeans and went around to the front of the car in search of the keys. He pulled them out of the ignition and then opened the trunk. Dean jumped out, fuming. He was down to just jeans and a t-shirt, the shifter having stolen the rest of his usual layers.

“Where is it? I’m gonna kill it,” he seethed, marching towards the house. He paused momentarily when he saw me swaying on the sidewalk and then hurried over to me. He wrapped my arm around his shoulders and put his own around my waist to help me stay balanced.

“What happened? Did the siren do something to you? Where is it?” He asked.

“It was a shapeshifter, not a siren,” I told both him and Sam who had followed close behind his brother.

“Was?” Sam questioned.

“It’s dead,” I said.

“That explains why my clothes are gone,” Dean said irritatedly. “Why is it that we seem to be leaving behind a trail of shapeshifter bodies wearing my face?”

“Well, you’re an objectively good looking guy. Maybe they just can’t resist all the girls they know they’ll get with a face like that,” I teased.

“Alright, well you’re obviously in even worse shape than I thought,” Dean said, half teasing half genuinely worried. I guess I haven’t ever said anything to him before about him being attractive. This concussion was loosening my tongue apparently. “Sam, you mind getting the body? I’m gonna get Wobbly here to the car.”

“Why can’t we just leave it?” Sam asked.

“Because I want my clothes back for one thing,” Dean replied. “And for another, I don’t want to be blamed for yet another set of murders.”

“Good point,” Sam agreed. He headed for the house.

Dean turned us towards the car and the movement caused me to trip a little on my own feet. The adrenaline was fading away, leaving me helpless to fight off the dizziness that I thought had disappeared.

Rather than let me stumble my way to the car, Dean moved the arm he had around my waist a little higher on my back and put his other arm under my knees, scooping me up in his arms and carrying me. I couldn’t be bothered to keep my head held up and rested it against his chest.

“What happened?” he asked, referring to my balance issues.

“He caught me by surprise and hit me over the head. I think I have a concussion.”

“You thought he was me, so you didn’t see it coming,” Dean said. He adjusted my weight so he was able to open the car door.

“No. He looked like someone else. I turned my back to take a call and he hit me. When I woke up he was pretending to be you,” I explained.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he sighed as he gently set me down, careful not to hit my head.

“Why?” I wondered.

“He took me out too. Only I didn’t even know he was there. If I’d been paying attention better, I could have stopped him before he got to you,” Dean said, ashamed.

“Not everything is your fault, you know,” I told him. I saw Sam step out of the house, a large body tossed over his shoulder. “This isn’t on you. And it doesn’t matter anyway. It’s over.”

I could tell he didn’t agree with me and he would beat himself up over this for a while. But he left to open the trunk for Sam and I was too exhausted to try and convince him otherwise.

~~~~~

An hour later Sam was watching over me while Dean went to take care of the body. I sat on the lumpy couch and held a bag of frozen peas to the back of my head in an attempt to bring down the swelling. I’d taken Ibuprofen as soon as we got to the motel and both the headache and the dizziness were slowly starting to fade. I’m sure finally sitting still helped the situation too.

“Why do you think it killed them?” Sam wondered aloud. “I mean, how did he choose his victims?”

“He chose women that he considered beautiful and that were in love. He turned into the man they loved and when he was done with them, he killed them,” I answered even though he hadn’t actually been expecting an explanation.

“He told you?” He asked, surprised.

“In way too much detail,” I said.

He was quiet for a moment.

“You know what I don’t get? If it wasn’t a siren then where did the oxytocin come from?”

“The what?” I asked.

“Oxytocin. It’s a hormone that sirens infect you with,” he explained. “Actually, Dean was on his way to warn you when he got ambushed. I told him that all the women had high levels and so it looked like they were the ones being targeted.”

My face drained of blood at the reminder of what that thing had done to those women. Of what he’d tried to do to me.

“I know what it is,” I told him. “And it’s not specific to sirens. It’s a naturally occurring hormone in the body. Ever heard of the love hormone?” At his nod I continued. “It occurs during childbirth, breastfeeding… and sex. That’s why he wanted women that were in love. He said it’s so much better that way.”

Understanding showed on his face alongside a mix of horror and protective anger.

“Y/N… he didn’t?”

“No,” I assured him quickly. “Not me anyway. I figured out what he was too quickly.”

Relief replaced the other emotions on his face and he stayed silent as he processed this new information. Then he wrinkled his brow in confusion.

“You said he chose women that were in love,” he said.

“Yeah,” I confirmed.

“So why did he go after you?”

I was practiced enough at hiding my feelings for the older Winchester from both brothers that I didn’t even have to hesitate to come up with an explanation.

“I guess he found me attractive. Per his usual pattern, he turned into me to see if I was in love with anyone and found out pretty quickly that I’m a hunter.”

“Then why did he turn into Dean?” He asked.

“He was pretending to rescue me,” I answered.

“Right, but why? What’s the point? If he wanted you dead, he had the chance. There was no reason for him to mess with you that way.”

I didn’t have a reasonable explanation for this, so I stayed quiet.

“He wasn’t just going after you because you’re a hunter. You fit the profile he was after and he wanted to-” he cut himself off and considered his wording. “He wanted to… complete his usual pattern. Because you’re in love with Dean,” he surmised, smiling a little bit at this conclusion.

I decided silence was the best option here. I couldn’t possibly contradict his completely accurate deduction. I wouldn’t outright confirm it for him, but I wasn’t going to deny what we both knew to be true.

“Y/N.”

More silence.

“Tell me I’m wrong and I’ll drop it,” he promised. I sighed.

“You know you’re not,” I told him.

“Then why don’t you do something about it?” He asked.

“There’s nothing to do about it,” I answered. “He doesn’t see me that way. And that’s fine. I’ve accepted it.”

“How do you know he doesn’t feel the same if you don’t tell him?”

“Sam, I’m really not in any condition to do anything to you right now, but I swear if you say anything to him, there’s going to be hell to pay in a couple of days,” I warned.

“I’m not going to say anything,” he said, offended by my assumption. “But I really think you should tell him. You guys are so great together. I think you would be good for each other. And I would be very happy for you.”

“Thanks, I guess. My head hurts too much to even consider thinking about this right now,” I told him.

“Alright, fine. I’ll let it go,” he conceded. “For now.”

“That’s all I ask.”

After that we sat in companionable silence while we waited for Dean to get back. Sam turned the TV on. I closed my eyes to block out the light and just listened to it, finding it to be a suitable distraction from the day’s events.

Dean got back probably twenty minutes later by my estimation.

“Hey, how are you doing?” He asked as soon as the door was shut behind him.

“A little better,” I told him.

“Good,” he said. He took the peas from my hand and gently felt the lump that had formed on the back of my head. “I think the swelling might actually be going down a little bit.”

He took the now room temperature peas to the freezer and switched them out for a fresh bag. He handed it to me and then sat down beside me, putting his arm around me.

“Is this ok?” He asked. He didn’t know the details that Sam did about the shapeshifter’s intentions, but he knew that I had been attacked today by a guy wearing his face.

“You don’t have to tiptoe around me,” I told him. “I know it wasn’t you. For the record, I knew the whole time it wasn’t you. I’m fine. I’m not traumatized and I’m not afraid of you.”

“A simple yes would have been fine,” he teased, pulling me closer into his side.

Movement from Sam’s direction had me glancing at him. He just smiled at me, looking meaningfully at Dean and then winking at me. I would have rolled my eyes if the action wouldn’t hurt my head. Instead I pointedly looked away from him. Things with me and Dean were fine the way they were. I wasn’t going to mess it up now just because Sam knew about my feelings.

A romantic relationship with Dean was something I wanted, but not something I needed. This right here – sitting together with my two best friends, knowing that even though I was temporarily unable to defend myself should it be necessary I was still safe and protected – this was all I needed. At least, that’s what I’d continue to tell myself.

Chapter 2

Tags:

@123passwort

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #familiar #reader insert #dean winchester #sam winchester #case fic #monster of the week #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x platonic!reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x platonic!reader #writing prompt

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strong-with-the-sarcasm · 9 months

Text

Part 6- from the top of my lungs

Dp x DC AU: Regent!Jazz & Vigilante!Jazz

"I step out outside and I take a deep breath and I get real high and I scream from the top of my lungs, 'What's going on?!'" - What's Up? by 4 Non Blondes

Masterlist Part 5

It was probably hypocritical of Danny to lecture Jazz about taking up a vigilante role around their new haunt when he himself couldn’t resist the instinctual urge to give the local breed of stupidity a beatdown.

If anything, it was a good way to get back into shape.

(Danny’s not fooling anyone, he’s a twink.) (A ghouly goopy ghostly one, but still a twink.)

Danny argued that he had more experience with vigilantism than Jazz, when she’d taken up a support role even after training. Sure, her aim has gotten so much better with practice, but Jazz was only a liminal.

(A highly ecto-contaminted liminal with a scary sword that can cut through reality to create portals that currently does his kingly paperwork for him.)

At least he could comfort himself with the knowledge that Jazz was trained by the frightening and awe-inspring Pandora of the Infinite Realms Acropolis, bearing her own gifted Bracelets of Submission as a symbol of respect from one woman to another.

(Jazz and Pandora sparring made the Boy King eternally grateful to be on the good side of both women.)

(Scary was an understatement.)

(No wonder Jazz and Sam got along so well.)

(Batman and Wonder Woman were supposedly friends, being founders of the Justice League and all.)

Gotham was all kinds of batshit crazy when the sun went down.

(pun recognized and intended.)

A dumb statement for any Gothamite, but newcomers to the city never really got it until the were robbed at gunpoint within five minutes of sunset.

That wasn’t really a concern for Danny, he’s gotten into the habit of phasing his important items into his body for safe keeping, but his increased need to do something made his late night walks morph into something that vaguely resembled his Witching Hours patrols back in Amity. Midnight to three am, strictly rooftops without too much barrier crossing into Hood’s territory were now fully integrated into the Halfa’s life- the purring of his core when he protected someone was healing something inside him he hadn’t realized was sick.

(Lies.)

Without the Red Hood to manage his Haunt, the Boy King and Regent had brute forced their way passed the boundary line to help the once-Revenant’s people until the one in question could do it himself. The habitants of Crime Alley were hesistant at first to accept more vigilantes into their midst, especially one that was obviously a meta with a concerning range of physical abilites, but with the Regent’s quiet strength and Phantom’s quirky attitude they were begrudgingly allowed to continue.

(If Phantom also used his ice manipulation to help stablilize dilapidated buildings being used as shelter for the upcoming winter, then all the better.)

The Regent had been caught in the Bat’s territory more recently, much to Danny’s worry. Jazz could no doubt break the furry over her knee, Danny had seen her do it to Skulker of all people, but drawing the ire of the big bat was the opposite of ideal. Batman’s Stabby Robin might even try to challenge Jazz for her Ecto-sword, which was both hilarious to imagine and panic-inducing, because stabby Robin was stabby.

After the early morning chat with the Signal, Danny had come to a decision regarding the leather clad crime lord furry and his flock of birdies- step up as the Boy King and request Batman’s help in riding the Realms of the Anti-Ecto Acts. Jazz already did so much as his Regent, he could at least get the ball rolling on this.

In order to begin, he had a sad trenchcoat man to call.

“Bloody Hell, Phantom!”

The Phantom, in his original jumpsuit rather than the admittedly awesome Star King regalia, grinned with a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. Closer to a snarl, but whatever.

“Sad trenchcoat man! Just the guy I wanted to see.”

Danny knew the guy’s name, hard not to when he’d seen the three floor-to-ceiling filing cabinets in Jazz’s office dedicated to the Laughing Magician alone, but the halfa was nothing if not dedicated to the bit.

When he’d sensed Constantine’s magic at work, he’d hijacked the summoning circle for his own use- suck it, a king trumps whatever entity Constantine was trying to get and Danny was less likely to want his soul in return for a favor.

(Did it really count when he’d already gifted the glued together pieces of the guy’s soul to Jazz as a paperweight?)

“Phantom, lad, why’re you here?”

The Ghost boy huffed a laugh, the building annoyance in the air just from his presence was fueling his life force.

“What, can’t say hi to a friend now? After all the work I did to stop that demon from coming instead too.”

(Lies.) (The summoning had been for an observant, but those bastard eyebags can eat a dick for all he cared.)

“Demon?” Constantine’s voice cracked with surprise, gaze flickering over the runes he’d lazily copied from a book.

“Yep.”

“Constantine.” A growl interrupted whatever comeback the Magician could have conjured, with the shadows of the darkened room parting to allow the Dark Knight himself to step through. “There is no time.”

“Aye, Batsy.” The brit turned back to Phantom, an edge of desperation now coloring the annoyance the ghost had brought. “Phantom, I need a favor.”

Phantom blinked.

“Uh, sure dude?”

“Constantine.” Batman interrupted again, but the sad trenchcoat man waved him off.

“Your people been wreckin’ government buildings and the bloody USA is throwing a fit.”

Government buildings? Phantom’s people? The GIW?

Could his luck really be in his favor this time? After all, here was Batman, and the sad trenchcoat man who could verify that Phantom was a spirit of protection and not one of vengeance.

(He left that to the Regent.)

“If that’s the case, then there is nothing I can do.”

(He would be right there with his people. What’s a few more buildings destroyed to free the innocent ghosts trapped within?)

“Whot?”

Phantom crossed his arms, allowing gravity to bring him to the floor where he stood at his full height. Unintimidating was one word for it, but he couldn’t really care less at the moment.

“The GIW have committed acts of War against the Infinite Realms, Constantine. It’s only thanks to the Regent and Future King that this Living Realm hasn’t been claimed by the Unquiet Dead.”

It was true. Jazz was the best Regent Danny could’ve ever gotten. She was liminal enough to understand that the Denziens of the Realms were not inherently malicious, but human enough to realize that she too would be afraid of the ghosts if she hadn’t been raised around the dead and (un)dying.

It was only thanks to that fine line she walked that Phantom wasn’t to join the Unquiet Dead and Neverborn as they descended onto the Living with the fury of thousand suns.

Danny, while a half-ghost, had died unlike his big sister. Sure he was brought back by Ectoplasm, but he had only returned halfway and that part of him was chomping at the bit to avenge those who were ended that he couldn’t protect.

“Here.” Phantom shallowly intoned as he pulled a flash drive from his chest, thrown to the big bat. “That contains all collected information the Regent was comfortable sharing with the Living. Share it with your league and get the Acts demolished, Batman.”

Phantom sighed heavily, shoulders drooping as he finished in a tired voice, “Please. I don’t want to fight. Please don’t make me go to war.”

Was he trying to tug on the Bat’s heartstrings? Yes. Was he being honest in not wanting to got to war? Also yes.

“War?”

“Yeah, all denziens of the Realms would have to fight. We’re all effected by the Acts, even if we don’t want to hurt anyone we’d have to…for our right to exist.” Phantom replied lowly. “I’m a spirit of protection, I don’t want to hurt the innocent.”

(It was a truth he had come to terms with, after his sister killed their parents.)

(He died wanting to be loved and protected by the adults who claimed to be his parents, but it had been Jazz that raised him.)

(She avenged him twice over.)

(She gave him a grave.)

A/N: No Hardcover/Anger Management ship content this time, just lore for this world I'm building.

And look, Sad trenchcoat man!

Song quotes are from the same songs on my Jazz/Jason playlist. Typically the song that started playing when I get ready to post this.

#dpxdc #dc x dp crossover #dp x dc #jazz fenton #regent!jazz #dp x dc au #Regent Jazz in Gotham

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fandomnerd9602 · 8 months

Text

Absolving?

Nun Novitiate!Wanda x Male Reader

It’s something that felt so sinful and yet at the same time, it felt so beautiful and planned out.

You were a seminary student studying at the local parish when you first met her. Wanda Maximoff, it was said that she came from a family line that had a witch or two but she chose to become a nun. Well rather she was taking the steps to become one when you met.

Her beauty, her kindness, the fire she carried for her devotion, her spirit, it all started a fire in your heart. It made you want to be better, both for God and for her. But at the same time, it felt so conflicting. How could you fall for a nun?! Well she was a novitiate so she hadn't taken the vows yet.

You and Wanda spent hours together. In prayer, in devotions, in taking care of the Sunday school children. And all of it just made you fall deeper in love with her.

You found yourself wondering the courtyard when you grunted in frustration. Your mind was racing.

“Trouble?” Steve, former army captain and your best friend, asks you with a smile.

“Have you ever had feelings for a nun?” You ask with a little embarrassed smile.

“I know my wife Peg thought of becoming one when I was missing in action for a month or so” Steve rubs his neck. "I appreciate you telling me this. I would say that she's not a nun yet. So take from a guy who took five years to tell his wife how he felt, don't wait"

You took Steve's advice to heart. But you didn't want to force her to choose between you or the habit.

You went to your mentor Wong, the high priest of the parish. Before you could tell him your dilemma, he informed you that he needed you to run the confessional for the day. You didn't think much of it, it was good training for you.

You took the priest's spot in the confessional booth. What you failed to notice was that Wanda was walking in right as you closed the door. All she knew was that the confessional booth was open and she needed to get something off her chest. She tried to pray it away but it still wore on her spirit.

Wanda, after taking a deep breath, opened the confessional booth door and sat down, crossing herself. You opened the side panel, allowing you to listen to her.

"Forgive me father for I have sinned" a calm, beautiful voice admitted to you.

"Do you seek absolution, my daughter?" you asked her back.

"Yes." Wanda took a deep breath, "no. maybe?"

"What troubles you?"

"I'm a novitiate and yet I don't know if I can go through with my vows."

"Do you have doubts?"

"No. I love my Lord do not get me wrong" she explains, "but I feel my heart drawn to someone. One within my own parish."

"A seminary student?"

"Yes. I've been assigned to be with him. And honestly, I love spending time with him. He's kind and sweet, a man who has a heart after God and that just makes him all the more appealing."

Wanda feels her breath shutter. "I love him. Y/N."

You feel your own breath hitch, she feels the same way for you! "I suppose there's nothing wrong with love. It was one of the first things created by the Father."

"But i dream of him. I wish to marry him. I wish him to take me against... I feel so conflicted."

You could feel the heat rising in your chest. Your heart was beating out of your chest.

"Y-you can still serve the Lord even if it's not within the walls of a parish. You can still volunteer with the church" you try to admit, "the scriptures do say that it's better to live in marriage than in the fires of lust"

"And if I find myself lusting for my own husband? If I dream about being with him?"

"T-that's a good thing" you manage to say, "Love is amazing."

"Thank you" Wanda manages to smile. "I will still need to pray about it but you've helped me through a great deal."

"Then may you go out today in peace, in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit" you bless the young novitiate who stole your heart.

You try to get out. Sadly, or maybe by the Father's divine plan, you stepped out of the confessional booth at the same time that Wanda did, coming face to face with the young woman.

"Uh...hello" you manage to say.

"hello." she smiles back at you.

for @lifespectator and @aloneodi

#marvel #marvel imagine #marvel fluff #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda variant #nun wanda #scarlet witch #scarlet witch imagine

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seravphs · 1 year

Text

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — GOJO X FEM READER

When you took the job, you knew working the night shift at your local convenience store would be boring. That’s fine; you’re here to make enough to pay rent, not to smile for strangers who don’t care anyways.The appearance of a stranger who seems to have a lot to hide is tantalizing bait to your boredom, but you can’t give in. That is, if you have a choice at all.

wc — 3k

tags — mafia au but not really, implied but never addressed, is he or isn’t he, Gojo is Weird, blood, guns, this is not meant to be a serious gorey fic, its just a fun little way for me to branch out and stretch those writing muscles

They don’t pay you enough to keep guns under the counters, but it’s cheaper to teach you to shoot then it is to pay for security cameras. It would be cheaper not to show you to protect yourself at all, actually, but you’re the sixth cashier they’ve burned through in as many weeks. Even in a town as down as this one is, rumors spread fast.

The wages are shit, but it’s all you’ve got, and college is expensive for a degree as useless as yours is. Four months away from becoming a junior, and you’ve only held unpaid internships and this position as a cashier at a dirty, old convenience store on the wrong side of the train tracks.

You think the owner is hiding something, or maybe that’s just wishful thinking for a job as boring as this one. People come and go, make rude comments, pick up beer and slide you IDs you weren’t trained to check. It’s quiet enough to convince you to let down your guard, then your fingers brush the cold metal underneath the register and you remember the long line of unnamed, unknown girls who came before you.

This is the bad side of town, and you’re stuck here for at least three months, two weeks, and five days more. Lucky you.

At least the work is easy. It’s so far out that management can get away with the grime on the walls and pulsing, fluorescent blue lighting that gives you headaches. Even though they’re supposedly focused on keeping costs low and profits high as possible, the air con is always on blast.

There are no regulars here, not until him - the one customer you get past 3:00 am. The witching hour, if you believed in that sort of the thing.

You’ve taken to calling him ghost, your stranger. He’s just like one - as faded and pale as a memory, hard to discern between reality and the imaginary.

You had just thought he was another one of your kind, a student down on hard luck and keeping ungodly hours. This town would do that to you - strip you of any shimmer in your irises from before you came here and beat you into the ground. There was a little bit of sympathy for him, then. Sometimes you offered him a piece of candy in the bowl by your left hand.

He never took it. Just as well, it probably wasn’t safe to eat.

The bell on the door rings. On instinct, you lift your head, your hand going back to the comforting holster underneath the counter. It’s just him, however - piercing blue eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses and bone white hair. At first, you thought he was just high constantly, cause no one needs sunglasses when the moon is already rising in the sky, but the one time you caught him looking, the whites of his eyes had been clearer than milk.

The temperature shifts subtly when he comes in. It’s hot outside. Summer nights in July always feel disgusting. This town can’t pay for maintenance, so during the day, the asphalt cracks under the sun. Heat waves shimmer off the concrete side walks. It’s cooler at night, but not by much. When your tall, mysterious stranger comes in, he always brings the heat in with him, even if only for a moment. The thermometer’s red line goes up a few degrees.

He has a routine, like a clockwork doll. Heads for the back first, pulling the strings of his black hoodie down as he makes a beeline for the fridge. You think he might be diabetic as you ring up his order: same old, same old. Sugary blue pop, a packet of fruit chews, five hour energy. Something new, this time. You’ve never seen him grab actual food before, though this should barely count. You add the chips to his total. The money’s in your hand before you can ask for it.

Strange man.

Strange men are preferable to scary men, however. Customers come and go, often silent, always in and out like they were never here, but every so often, someone comes in who’s clearly looking for trouble.

And sometimes, there’s someone who’s so clearly dangerous it stops your heart.

He’s wearing a balaclava. It’s a trend now, you try to convince yourself. It’s fashionable.

No one cares about fashion in this town (no one but your ghost, that is).They’re too focused on staying alive. The balaclava wearing man is clad in all black. But the bad news is that he’s coming towards you with a plastic bag in one hand and a flash of silver in the other. The knife twirls over his fingers, over and over, rhythmic and steady like he knows how to use it.

You grip the holster of the gun. To be honest, although you were trained, you’re not sure you can do it. It’s only a comfort, like a child’s favorite blanket.

He thrusts the bag on the counter. “All the cash you have, bitch. Hurry up.”

You’re just a part-timer. You’re not risking your life for a dumb convenience store. Right as your hands move to unlock the cash register, however, the door rings again.

It’s him.

Black hoodie (a new one, with white and blue lettering down the arms), black oval sunglasses, hair bleached brighter than the corona of the sun. Warm air blows into the store, a miniature heatwave.

He doesn’t notice the man who’s currently hustling you for all the money in the store, but the man notices him.

“Get lost, kid! We’re busy here.”

He looks up, surprised. Then he ambles closer, as casual as if it’s a normal day, picking up his usual on the way: a packet of chips, blue pop, candy.

“Nah,” he says, voice calm and cheery. A lunatic, then. “I’m busy.”

“Do you understand what’s going on here?” The potential thief looks like he might be preparing to do something you’ll all regret. You wonder if you could use the gun to save someone else’s life. You don’t think so.

Your ghost let’s his sunglasses slip down his face. His eyes, as they always are in the rare instances he’s let you see them, are startling and preternaturally blue.

The man jumps. He seems confused, vacillating between fear and disbelief. It’s as if he recognizes him, just by the eyes alone.

“What don’t you get? Scram.” His blue eyes flash with restrained heat. “I’m not a patient man.“

Still, he hesitates. You wouldn’t. The words don’t seem like an empty threat.

Casually, your ghost throws his items on the counter for you to bag, pushing the man aside. In one motion, he has the knife. “I’m keeping this as a reward for my generosity. You have five seconds before I decide to take your spleen with it.”

The man with the balaclava looks at his eyes again, flicking between them and his white hair in fear before he comes to a decision. He bolts out of the store. You understand the sentiment a little. When you first met your ghost, with his hair like hoarfrost and eyes like the summer sky, you had felt the strangeness of him shake you too, as if something about him was fundamentally at odds with the world.

Your ghost snaps you out of your frozen stupor when he gestures for you to get on with checking his purchases out. This time, as he throws down his bills, you catch the flash of a shiny watch on his wrist, inked sleeves. His arms writhe with patterns of dragons and koi fish, characters for honor and glory and strength. He has money that people would kill for in this town.

He raises an eyebrow when he catches you looking at the symbols of the kind of wealth that shouldn’t exist this close to the outskirts of nothing. You guys didn’t even have a train that came reliably most days, the tracks scattered with litter and graffiti.

He’s cocky. The way few can afford to be. Real arrogance too, not borrowed, the kind that can make threats at the blink of an eye because they can follow through on them.

“Are you in the fucking mafia?” You ask in disbelief, remembering only too late that the two of you are strangers.

All of the fantastical stories you’ve made up in your head to explain away his strange appearance and late nights are just that: fantasies. Idle fairytales to pass the time. Ways to make your job less boring, soothe the ache of being a washed up nobody in your shithole of a hometown.

You are suddenly very aware of the presence of danger, the hair rising on your arms as your body reacts like an animal.

“That doesn’t sound like a thank you to me.”

His voice is slightly higher than you’d expect from someone in the mafia. For some reason, you’ve always imagined mafiosos would have a deep baritone, but his is smoother, even if it has a rasp to it, like he smokes as a hobby. You’ve never seen him pick up cigarettes.

Even more dangerously, you can feel the thread of attraction between you two, pulling taut. You want to know more, desperately, even when you’ve seen him threaten to gut a man as calmly as he picks out what flavor of pop he wants.

There’s no room for risk when you live here. All the perilous thrills you could want are already imbedded in your daily life. There’s nothing left for any more.

“That doesn’t sound like an answer to me,” you retort.

You shouldn’t be so comfortable with him - you aren’t, really, you’re aware of the fact that you two are technically strangers but if he wanted to hurt you, he could’ve done so already.

He laughs. Blatantly. A snickering kind of laugh, one that’s clearly directed at you, not with you.

“No,” he says, between wheezing for breath. “Not mafia. What, you read too much manga or something? I’m just an insomniac. Oh, that means I have trouble-“

“I know what that means!” You snap, humiliated, warmth burning on your cheeks.

Sue you for wanting a little excitement in this boring job, boring town, boring life. You were an idiot for thinking this lunatic could be the one to provide it.

He taps his cold bottle of pop to your forehead as he leaves, making you flinch. “You’re a weird girl,” he says. “I like you.”

I like you.

The words run through your head relentlessly, little greyhounds with too much energy yapping at all hours of the day. A little chorus of “I like you”s at all hours, making you replay the moment over. Stuck.

This town drives you mad. You haven’t had anything to love in a while in this cold, deserted place. It must be why you’re fixated on him. You’re imagining the obsession because you miss the feeling. The heart is a muscle like any other - it grows atrophied with disuse.

That doesn’t stop you from looking forward to seeing him again.

The next time your beautiful stranger walks in, he’s with a friend. That’s how you learn his name. His buddy looks like even more of a delinquent than he is - gauges, tattoos, piercings, all of it.

He’s gentler, though, more soft-spoken. Voice like a running stream, smile as soft as warm butter. This is the first time you’ve seen your ghost laugh, when too-many-piercings-to-count cracks some joke by the ice cream freezer. He catches you looking, long black hair flipping over his shoulder as his head whips around to face you. Ghost hasn’t noticed. He gives you a smile, but something about it feels wrong. You avert your eyes, and the boys are in the next aisle, hidden from view, a moment later.

“Hey,” Ghost says, his smile genuine. “Fancy seeing you again.”

“You know her?” His friend questions. “I’m so sorry. Gojo’s such a pain in the ass, isn’t he?”

You smile faintly. Something about his friend is terrifying. His eyes seem dead inside, pure black tar, sticky traps.

Ghost shoves him. “Back off. You’re the annoying one, she’s so much more spunky when it’s just me.”

You’re so focused on trying to keep yourself out of danger you don’t even realize the tidbit of information you have until you’re in the grocery store after your shift. As you’re picking out produce you realize - now you know his name.

This town and it’s stupid transit system has you waiting in the biting cold for hours. Your groceries are heavy and the bus petulantly refuses to come.

A motorcycle roars in the distance, dying to a purr as it stops in front of you.

“Hi, stranger,” says your beautiful ghost. “You want a ride?”

“Are you stalking me?” You blurt out.

Gojo wrinkles his nose, offended. “Who’d have time to stalk you? You can just say you don’t want the ride.”

“Wait!” This is a bad idea. This is a very bad idea. This is the worst idea you’ve had in a long time. You should listen to your mother when she tells you not to be reckless. “No, I do. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

His lips curve into a brilliant smile. “I was just teasing. C’mere.”

He pulls a helmet out of nowhere - it’s clearly not for him, because his white hair is messy and windswept. He buckles it under your chin carefully. Under further consideration, he shucks off his black leather jacket and tucks it around you.

“Trust me,” he says. “It gets cold when you’re riding. You’re going to hold on tight, right?”

You wrap your arms around his waist.

“Nope,” he says, taking your hands and pulling you closer so you’re pressed right up against his back. You can feel the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt. “You’re going to fall off like that. Address?”

He doesn’t just drop you off, he carries your groceries inside for you and makes you laugh as he helps unpack them.

Too late, you realize you might’ve given your address to a mafioso. Just because Gojo says he isn’t, doesn’t mean it’s true. He’s just hard to resist. You’ve always been weak for beautiful things, starved of it in this concrete city.

That’s when the flowers start showing up.

Did you mention you were weak to the beautiful things?

Massive bouquets of riotous color, flowers that aren’t even in season, that cost a fortune to ship.

Maybe it’s payment for his absence, because Gojo hasn’t shown up for the past week. The flowers keep coming - lilies with creamy white petals, extravagantly expensive roses, massive hothouse orchids. The flowers don’t compare to him.

It’s bad, but you’re addicted. He gives you a thrill like nothing else.

The next time you see Gojo, you hear him first. You’re closing another shift where you haven’t seen him and heading out the back door when you hear a noise like a wounded animal. A soft hiss of air escaping through clenched teeth.

“Gojo!” You gasp. He’s leaning against the bottom of the stairs, chain smoking and clutching his side. Red spills between his fingers, staining his normal white shirts a startling rust.

“Hey, stranger. Fancy seeing you here.”

“This is no time for your little jokes! Let me see that, oh my god-“

“Hey, hey,” he soothes. “No need to fret, it’s not serious.”

“You’re going to bleed out.”

“Nah. I know what that looks like.”

“Just- stay here, okay?”

“Not going anywhere, princess.” He smiles up at you, still fatally charming as his life bleeds out of his side. “You going to take care of me?”

“Against my better judgement, yes.”

Hauling out the massive first aid kit your boss keeps in the bathroom cabinets is a bit of an ordeal, but nothing compared to pulling Gojo’s shirt up and seeing the slash in his side.

“Worse than it looks.”

Well, at least he’s right about that. It doesn’t look like he needs stitches, but he’ll need to be very, very careful for the next few days. You dig through the kit for salve, bandages, and wipes. Gently, you set to work cleaning, then bandaging.

His head tips back, revealing the column of his throat, as he moans in pain. There’s a tattoo right between his collarbones, a stylized eye. Watchful. “Hurts,” he says.

“Serves you right, you big baby. Besides, isn’t this supposed to be nothing for you?”

“I’m not a mafioso,” he says with a smile.

You eye him disbelievingly as you pack his wound.

“There, all better.”

“Not quite.”

“What now?”

“Doesn’t a kiss fix everything?”

You know he’s expecting you to push him away, so just to be contrary, you lean in and gently peck the bandage covering his side.

His hand snakes his way into your hair and gently brings you back up, face to face with him. “Bad girl. You know that’s not what I meant.”

And then he’s kissing you like you’re his nicotine. He tastes like smoke and ash - not particularly enjoyable, but the more time you spent licking his bad habits from his mouth, the more you’re staring to enjoy them. Gojo is everything that’s wrong for you - secondhand delinquency, but he’s such a good kisser. He pulls away and mouthes down your neck, leaving bruising kisses all over your carotid artery.

“Pretty thing,” he murmurs against your neck. “Wanna take you home.”

You think he might be delirious and check him for a fever. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m serious,” he whines, forehead against your shoulder now. “Want you all to myself. Don’t want share with the convenience store anymore.”

He’s in no state to go anywhere, by the way he’s babbling. Just this once, you let him come with you.

The streets are quiet these days. Maybe they can smell the spilled blood on the doorstep, a warning flag to anyone who comes into the convenience store. Or maybe the man who waits for you outside is the warning.

“Anything interesting happen while I was gone?”

He’s come to pick you up again, black helmet already outstretched to you.

“No. You have anything to do with that?”

He smiles and leans in to brush his lips against your temple. “Everyone knows you’re off limits. You’re mine.”

#sera writes #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x y/n

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romanoffsbish · 1 year

Text

Baby, You’re Not Alone

WandaNat x Stark!Reader

Warnings: Loss of mom young—Grief, Numbness.

18+ | Minors DNI | Nudity/No smut

Requested: @mutlifandomloverblog | 4,450 Words

Chrysanthemum’s are “funeral flowers”

White: Purity / Grief ; Yellow: Sorrow/Neglected Love

Wanda frowned when she woke up to empty, frigid sheets telling her you'd been gone for at least an hour if not longer. Natasha being gone was expected since she starts her training at four in the morning but you, their little grump, never gets up before ten unless it's necessary.

"Friday?," the witch murmured over a yawn., "Yes Miss Maximoff?," she tiredly sat up, her arms stretching above her head as she slowly became more conscious of her surroundings., "Where's Y/N?," her lip caught between her teeth while she anxiously awaits an answer.

"It appears Miss Stark left the compound at six in the morning, and their phone is off so I'm unable to pinpoint any location at this time. The last ping was near Central Park at 9am."

"Thanks Fri.," she jumped out of the bed before the AI could even reply, racing to the gym in hopes that maybe Natasha caught you leaving., "Nat?! Have you seen Y/N/N?," the redhead nearly dropped the weight in her hand as the frazzled witch actually managed to startle her.

"What do you mean? Isn't she in bed?," she looked at her watch., "It is only eight honey.," her amused response was met with a glare., "Natasha, if she was in bed I wouldn't have woken up to cold, empty sheets just now."

"Oh.," the redhead felt her heart skip in her chest, her mind now running wild with all the potential scenarios, but before she could spiral too bad she thought of your brother as a good place to check in., "Have you asked Tony?"

The couple left the gym in a rush, heading off to the lab to find Tony laying on the couch with a scrapbook of sorts over his head, and tiny snores gave way to his vulnerable state. Wanda removed the book from his face, the both of them noticed his eyes were rimmed red, and they looked to the book to clue them in on why.

They aww'd at the sight of you, you couldn't have been more than three in the shot, you were wearing a frilly pink dress with the bow to match, you were holding hold a tiny baby doll while sat in Tony's lap next to your mom. You looked so excited as you showed her your baby in the next shot, while she fondly smiled. It wasn't hard to deduce why Tony was crying, and Natasha knew all too well why when she looked at her phone and saw today's date.

"Oh.," the realization hit her hard., "I know where she is Wands, let's go—she's going to need us even if she thinks she doesn't."

—

Chrysanthemum—they were a gorgeous flower really, they bloomed in various shades, and each one of them meant something beautiful. This morning you stopped by the local florists shop to find your arrangement already filled. Miss Stacy gave you a comforting smile, then handed you the bouquet of yellow and white. You bid her a friendly farewell, then continued on your journey throughout the frigid city.

The numbness of your limbs was comforting, it gave you something else to focus on while the warm mug in your hands slowly brought back the feeling with a pained tingle that followed. Part of you wished it was just as easy to bring yourself back from the void; you woke up this morning with nothing inside to offer the world. Wanda's warm embrace did nothing to combat the feeling, or more so the lack thereof, so you slipped on out of the compound around six.

It perplexed you how this day was always a different experience every year for you. There were many years where all you wanted was to celebrate the life of your mother. There were the last few where you left flowers on her grave, then went about your day like normal. Then there were ones like this one where you wanted to curse the very ground she once walked on for leaving you to face this cruel world alone.

Tony was an amazing big brother—really, he took you in without a shred of doubt when you were orphaned at the age of six, and he was freshly twenty-one. He did his very best, and you were always grateful for that, but he just wasn't a suitable replacement for a mom.

When you started your period at thirteen it was his fling of the month that coached you on the process of entering womanhood. The first time you had your heartbroken at the age of sixteen you cried yourself to sleep because he was out. Then there was now, you finally found your shred of happiness in the arms of your lovers, and she wasn't going to be here for any of it.

The wedding was fast approaching after three magical years together, and you were thrilled, but the marking of today left you wondering.

Who was going to help you shop for your fit? Who would throw the engagement party? Who would do your hair and make up? Who'd work through the anticipated cold feet with you? Who'd then tell you how beautiful you looked with tears in their eyes and a warm embrace before sending you off to marry your brides?

The more you pondered it, the more you realize you were not through the grief of it all, and you were perplexed by such a notion. It'd been sixteen years since the tragedy, you've gone to counseling, you found your happy niche in life, but no matter what it wouldn't be enough when you were reminded of all that you lost with her.

A confidant, a best friend, a safe place to go when your prospective kids are bothering you, or just when you're feeling a bit overwhelmed.

Numb was what you were when you entered the diner from your childhood, but as you imagined your wives holding your baby a flip switched and now you were crying into the untouched slice of pie on the table, the pie here was always your mother’s guilty pleasure.

Natasha ushered into the diner first, turning to Wanda she put a finger to her lips, and after knowing she got the message she turned back to face you. There you were sat in the corner, a distant look in your glossy eyes, and she hated that she had overlooked the calendar today.

In her defense though it had been years since you were last in such a headspace, nonetheless she felt bad. Though she'd only been able to call you hers for three years now, you'd held her heart for so much longer than she'd ever admitted to. Wanda wasn't in the picture when she used to help you through days like today, where you were simply a shell of yourself, so this was a moment of necessary adjustment.

"Tasha, why's she crying?," the redhead turned to your other lover with a sad smile., "It's the anniversary of her parents death, she has a hard time with the loss of her mom some years.,” Wanda nodded in understanding, you shared a common ground here, and she's just a bit disheartened to only be finding out now.

"Don't take it personally malysh, I only ever knew because of the gruesome Shield files I had given to Steve many years back."

"Aren't I meant to be the mind reader here?"

Natasha smirked at her lover, she gave her a sweet peck to her lips before she quietly pulled her in the direction of you., "No thank you.," you croaked out your dismissal thinking it was the waitress., "Detka.," you whimpered at the familiar voice of one of your comfort people., "We've already paid the tab lyubov', care to go for a drive?," you looked up when finding the other voice a bit shocking to hear, your lip trembled when you saw both of them, and Wanda swiftly pulled you up and into her.

"Shh, we've got you moya lyubov'.," Wanda coo'd, she tapped your thighs and you jumped to wrap around her., "You're not alone detka.," Nat added as she placed a soft kiss to your temple, then with a hand on Wanda's lower back, and the other on yours she guided the both of you back out to her corvette stingray.

Natasha drove in the direction of the place you had yet to reach today while Wanda held your lightly sobbing form close in the backseat. The drive was long as your parents were buried in a military cemetery on the outskirts of town, so it didn't shock them one bit when your quiet sobs eventually faded into light snores., "I don't want to wake her up, she looks so peaceful."

The redhead gently stroked her fingers over your face in lieu of Wanda's words, you needed this., "Detka—we're here.," you stirred a bit, burying your face into Wanda's shoulder and whined. Both of them chuckled, this grumpy expression is to be expected when you woke up so early., "Lyubov', we’ll be with you the whole time, then after we can go home and snuggle."

Natasha helped you out of the car, in one arm she held your bouquet, and with the other she held you against her while you woke up more. Gently swaying you while humming in a low tone to keep your anxieties at bay until you pulled away from her to get going to her plot.

'Maria Stark. Beloved: Mother. Wife. Daughter. Friend. A precious life gone far too soon, you shall be missed.', you stared blankly at the dirty gravel stone while you settled the flowers into their designated spot, and then you delicately trailed your fingers over the words.

'Beloved Mother.,' rings out in your head, you remember the core things, like the diner, and family movie nights that she'd put together every Friday without fail for you, Tony and her. But beyond that you've lost the rest, the stories Tony would tell you of her immense comfort never resonated with you beyond the wording. The photos show the affections, but your mind yearns aimlessly for a memory of the feeling, desperate to understand that voided love.

Without the love of a mother you start to worry you'll never be enough for your own children. Deep down you know that's ridiculous, neither of your partners had their mother either, but here they were a pair of the most nurturing women you'd ever had the pleasure of meeting.

They loved you for all you were, you knew and felt that, but you still wondered, what if you don't live up to the expectations they have?

Wanda wanted so desperately to hold you, but Nat held her back to give you a solo moment. Your thoughts of inadequacy on your end were so incredibly loud and more so unwarranted. You're doubting your ability to offer the basics of comfort, but you were their safest space. Nothing ever made them happier than being able to come home to you after a long day.

Not to mention you're always the go to person of comfort for Clint's brood, and your niece. Morgan always sought you out when she came to the compound, and she was always reluctant to leave your side come the time to go home. There were even nights where she slept in your shared bed on your chest simply because you just couldn't say no to her sweet little pout.

Morgan honestly went to you for everything from a new scrape on her knee for you to fix, to a drawing she made and was proud of, or to cuddle you after a 'long' day. The little girl worshipped the ground you walked upon, it was relatively obvious, just not to you. When Lila came to the compound she'd ask you for advice, and you'd give it while holding a tiny Nathaniel in your embrace until he fell asleep. Then after all that you'd still agree to an hour or two of Mario Kart against Cooper and Peter.

Sure you were an asshole from time to time, you were a Stark after all, but at the end of the day you were a softie, and endlessly full of love to share. Wanda knows for a fact that you'd be a great mother, Natasha would tell you the same thing too but she's blissful unaware of the current dilemma, but this time when Wanda desperately tried to get to you she let her go.

The brunette squatted down besides you., "Why'd she have to go?," your lip wobbled as you asked your lover an impossible question., "I'm not sure lyubov'.," Wanda gently wiped the fresh falling tears off of your cheeks, then she carefully guided your face into her neck., "It's not fair Y/N/N, but it's the natural cycle."

"I want my mommy.," you sob unabashedly, your hands now clinging to her shoulders for dear life, and she looks up to Natasha shocked., "I-I can't do all of this without her, she should be here!," you shrieked., "I-I, she should have been here to meet you, and to help me navigate through these fucked up sequences of life."

Both of your lovers were at a loss for words, they understood you to some degree, but they'd never be able to understand your feelings here. Grief is obviously different for everyone, Nat and Wanda had no choice but to move right on without the time to dwell, so they're more well adjusted to their motherless circumstances. They still mourn from time to time, but the grief isn't as debilitating as yours seems to be.

"Hi Mrs. Stark.," Natasha softly spoke, and your red rimmed eyes suddenly shot over to hers, your heart stuttered when you saw her crying too., "My name's Natasha Romanoff, but you can just call me Nat, I‘m so happy to finally be meeting you ma’am. Your daughter here is one beautiful half of my heart, and I think it was about time I finally introduced myself."

Wanda was next to speak, taking after Nat., "Hey there ma'am, my names's Wanda, your daughter here calls me 'Wiggly Woo' though.," she teased, eliciting a sad giggle from you, and both of their hearts beamed at the sound., "I'm eternally grateful to you for giving Y/N to the world, I think you'll be happy to know she's grown into a fine woman with a heart of gold."

Wanda met your trembling lips with a delicate kiss, you sighed against her, and she smiled., "You've got nothing to worry about lyubov'.," Wanda watched you in amusement as you quirked your brows., "You're going to be a great mom despite these circumstances.," you looked to her a bit shocked., "I-I'm sorry Wands, were my thoughts too loud again?"

"No, I don't mind it honey, I appreciate it.," her lips pressed to your forehead., "When your mind is being unfairly cruel I want to know.," she reassured you, then you felt another hand grip you softly by your chin., "I do too detka.," you pouted, their show of care overwhelming you slightly, and so Natasha kissed you just the same as Wanda did to offer you reassurance.

"You're not alone here detka, marriage and starting a family are our next steps, but trust me we're just as terrified.," she admitted, and Wanda murmured in agreement., "However, whenever I start to freak out over the unknown I just remember all that I've gained by opening up my heart to the both of you.," her tone was so soft, softer than it had ever been, and that alone helped you to truly feel her sincerity.

"We're learning how to get through these 'fucked up sequences of life' together detka.," she teased while wearing her signature smirk., "That brings me comfort.," you sighed with a genuine smile soon following., "We're glad."

Natasha lifted you off of Wanda and got you settled onto her back, then she helped your other lover off the ground, and helped her to wipe the dirt from her pants., "You ready?," you nodded against her shoulder., "Yeah, take me home please Natty, I crave some cuddles."

—

Once you made it to your room Natasha was whisking you off to the bathroom, but before she could get too far you whined., "Wands.," the witch nearly melted when you reached for her so desperately., "I'll be back lyubov, enjoy your bath while I go make us some cookies.," she winked at your suddenly calmed form., "That's what I thought.," she smiled against your lips as you giggled, then she kissed you just before taking her aforementioned leave.

Natasha was gentle with you, as she always was, but there was something different about her display of tenderness. Her eyes had an unplaceable sheen, there was so much she needed to say, but you could tell she was holding back., "Natty, are you okay?," she sniffed, doing her best to cover up the influx of emotions., "Yes my darling, I'm perfectly fine."

Your hand gently wrapped around her wrist as she was in the middle of washing your body with the loofah., "You can't lie to me Natalia.," she raised her brows., "But cant I though?," her challenge only received an eye roll before you were pulling her hand to your lips., "Okay, how about you shouldn't lie to me.," you placed a kiss to each of her fingertips, then you linked you hands and looked up at her., "I can help."

Natasha squeezed your hand, then she pulled away to finish cleaning your body., "I know, and you do help by just existing before me.," she relayed honestly., "I'm not upset if that's what you think detka, I'm actually so happy."

"Everything I ever wanted is right here.," she paused to help you out of the tub, wrapping a plush robe around your shivering body, then settling her arms around the fabric over your hips, and nuzzled her nose against your own., "You gave me the first chance at love that ever mattered to me Y/N/N, and I can't believe it led us here.," her lips suddenly pecked yours, she just needed to break the gap; to feel you.

"Soon we'll be married, living a picture perfect life with our little witch, and miniature you's.," her finger traced over the entirety of your face, as if her fingertip was scanning your features., "Precious little Y/N's.," she booped your nose, cackling as your face scrunched., "Wanda's?," she nodded., "Yes, eventually Wanda's too."

"Natty?," she hummed, too focused on laying you down on the bed to respond., "Can we name our first daughter after my mom?," she caressed your cheek and smiled down at you., "I don't see why not detka, but we'll wanna talk to Wanda first before I can confirm."

"Talk to me about what?," the witch cheerily squealed as she entered the bedroom., "Our lovely lady here wants to name our daughter after her mother, Maria.," Wanda kissed the redhead, then she joined her in hovering above you., "Maria Romanoff?," she questioned, and you smirked mischievously., "Stark-anoff."

The couple grimaced above you, "Absolutely not.," the two of them shouting in sync caused you to cackle without stop., "Come on guys! It's like the perfect blend of our surnames! Get it?"

"Oh, we got it lyubov'," Wanda chuckled out., "We just didn't want to.," Natasha deadpanned, and you pouted., "Boo, you're both so boring."

"Boring? Or just concerned future parents?," Natasha mused as she began to apply a thin layer of lotion to your legs while Wanda was hovering over your face., "Then what, hm? Maria Alice Stark-Maximoff-Romanoff?"

Wanda placed a hydrating mask over your face, and conveniently for your lovers it layered over you lips as well., "Lyubov', I'm thinking we are better off giving the baby Nat's last name.," you felt the redheads hands freeze., "That way it matches all three of us.," Nat choked., "What?"

"Surprise.," you cheered through the mask, you watched as Nat fully processed what you'd just said through the eye flaps of your mask., "Y-you guys want to take my name?," her normally cool voice wavered, and you noticed her hands were trembling., "Why? I don't understand."

"Natty.," you sat up, leaning into Wanda on the mattress to keep your mask secure, and then you reached out for your vulnerable fiancé., "You take such good care of us Natalia, and we realized there's no one more deserving than you to be the prospective breadwinner here."

"Y/N, you're a millionaire.," she chuckled, you could see her attempts to deflect coming from a mile away., "Yeah, but that's just the dough. It's you that molds it, and then bakes it Natty.,” you say seriously, but with an exaggerated wink, your lovers giggle softly, and you go on., “You keep all of us above water Natasha, you knew exactly where to find me today, and that's because you took the time to learn everything there is to know about us, even the little things that normally wouldn’t matter to a partner.”

“Yeah, like my preference for Pine Sol over Fabuloso.,” Wanda teases., “You berated Tony for a week when he got the wrong product.,” the three of you shared in a bit of laughter, but soon a comfortable silence reclaimed the space.

"This wasn't a hard decision to make Tasha.,” you conveyed genuinely as she fumbled with your hand nervously., “We love you with all of our beings honey, and we take great pride in knowing we'll soon be Romanoff's.”

“The Romanoff’s.,” she whispers, and your heart warms exponentially at her soft tone., “One big, happy family we will be.,” Wanda chimes in, her hands gently remove the mask from your face, and while you hold Nat against your chest she rubs the product into your skin.

“The three of us against the world.,” Natasha utters while pulling back from your hold, her hands move up to cup both of your cheeks., “Our little witch.,” she strokes the apple of her cheek and pulls her forward for a kiss., “Our little grump.,” she snickers, then moves to pull you into her for a kiss that was too short lived judging by the way you whined at the loss.

“What about me?!,” your heads panned over to the locked bedroom door, the softest of knocks follows the little girls voice, and your lovers watched as your once dulled eyes lit up., “Of course Mo, you can be in our posse! Now, what are you doing outside our door little love?”

“Daddy said I needed to give Auntie Y/N/N my magical cuddles today.,” she sings through the oak and you audibly aww’d., “Look at that Mo, your daddy was right for once.,” you shouted, and she giggled., “Pepper must be so proud.,” Natasha whispered, and the lot of you snorted.

“Morgan, baby, how about you come with me so we can get the dinner from the front door?,” Wanda slipped out of the door, preserving your dignity as best she could before disappearing downing the hall to collect the Chinese.

Natasha then returned to finishing up your skincare, she lathered the lotion over every last bit of you, placing kisses whenever she deemed fit, she happily hummed along to her own tune, while her eyes lovingly observed you relaxing., “All done detka.,” she coo’d, your eyes fluttered open and you were met with her hovering face.

“Nuh-uh.,” she looked to you amused., “Oh? Please do tell me what it is I missed then.,” your lips pouted, and the redhead gasped., “Oh yes! A true lovers kiss? How could I forget?!”

Natasha tenderly placed kisses all over your face, she was taking her time getting to your lips and that only made you whine., “Natty.,” she placed her lips over yours, and you were instantly melting into the mattress., “There you go princess, the curse has been broken.”

You rolled your eyes, but smiled nonetheless., “I’m cold Natty.,” she frowned at the info, then she slid a pair of panties on you, then she got you into your favorite fluffy bear onesie, she smirked at you, and you gasped when she held up a tiny version for Morgan to change into.

Natasha was quick to get the little girl cleaned up and into her pajamas for the night after they returned while Wanda set up the food, and you picked out the movie., “Brother Bear.,” you couldn’t help it really, the movie was a perfect fit for the day’s emotional roller coaster ride. Plus, the film was cute, and you could both roar right along with the film in your bear onesies.

“You’re so adorable.,” Wanda groaned, then without Nat present she slipped a cookie into your mouth., “Shh, don’t tell the ‘dinner first’ police.,” you giggled before kissing her deeply in appreciation., “Mm.. Sweet.,” she teased as her tongue slid over yours, and had it not been for the door opening you wonder where this would’ve gone with that twinkle in her eyes.

The three of you settled into the mattress with the little girl snuggled in between you and Nat with loads of takeout, and cookies on the tray over Wanda’s lap for all your hunger needs. After Brother Bear ended Natasha chose to put on Tangled, she said it was for Morgan, but you both knew just how much she loved this film. Wanda’s turn came, and when she put on a documentary about penguins suddenly you all found yourself yawning, and snuggling close.

“I love you Auntie.,” Morgan whispered., “I’m sorry your sad.,” you instantly held her tighter., “I could never be sad with all my girls here.,” you placed a kiss to her cheek., “I love you too.”

Natasha shared a hopeful look with Wanda as they watched the two of you interact, and then slip off into a calm sleep only seconds later., “How did we get so lucky?,” Wanda questions, and Natasha hums with a hand on your face., “I’ve learned it’s best not to question the good that comes ones way Wands, instead you should focus on fostering the happy feeling.”

“So wise you are.,” she snorts, leaning over your bodies she places a kiss to Natasha’s lips. Then she turns the lights of with the flick of her wrist, and the both of them settle down, their arms brushing as they both wrap around you., “Goodnight my loves.,” the little witch yawned., “Goodnight malysh… Goodnight lil bears.,” Nat whispered, then only after hearing all of your even breaths she finally slipped off herself.

———————

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