#dark!carol danvers
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For Keeps (1/3)
Title: For Keeps
Characters: Dark!Carol Danvers x Female Reader
Summary: Carol sees you. Carol wants you. Carol gets what she wants.
Series Warnings: extremely dubious consent, strap-on (r receiving), sex (oral, vaginal), anal fingering, Dom!Carol, orgasm denial, spanking, violence (not really towards reader), manipulation, forced relationship, rough sex, Ma’am kink
Note: All three chapters of this fic are already written. This is my very first (and maybe only) fic I’m posting on Tumblr. So if you like it, please let me know. All forms of feedback welcome. Comments and reblogs especially.
18+ ONLY
Chapter 1
Carol was not happy. Though perhaps that was an understatement. As Carol stomped down the front steps of Mel’s Tavern and shoves open the door, she was honest enough to admit she was pissed. After a long week, an absolute shit week, all Carol wants to do on her Friday night is go to Thor’s brothel, have too much Asgardian liquor, and take out her frustrations on one of the pretty little whores in his employ. Instead, she’s in Mel’s trying to figure out why he hadn’t made his monthly payment for the 2nd month in a row. Though to be fair, this visit was less about finding out why he’d not made his payment and more about reminding him why he needed to make his payment. Carol wasn’t a therapist or a social worker, so she didn’t really give a shit about the why.
Striding into the poorly lit, smoky bar, filled with gaudy tchotchkes and an unfortunate looking crowd, Carol quickly glances around the room looking for Mel. She wants to get in and out of this dive as soon as possible. However, Mel was nowhere to be found; he was smart to make himself scarce knowing that he’d missed payday, but dumb as fuck to make Carol wait. To be fair, he probably didn’t know he was making Carol wait. He most likely thought he was simply avoiding one of the lesser Avenger goons. Unfortunately for Mel, he wasn’t the only “security client” who’d neglected to pay his dues in the Avengers’ territory recently. That, plus Steve’s suspicion that there was a mole in the family meant that Carol had been drafted to figure out what was going on and to fix the problem.
Carol strides to the doorman, black low-heeled boots clicking on the grungy and slightly sticky tile floor. In her bespoke all black pantsuit, she cut a striking figure. Short dark blonde hair curled around a strong jaw on one side; the other side razed into a short undercut. The doorman stands up quickly when he sees her.
“Ma’am,” he starts, before Carol puts up her hand.
“Where’s Mel?,” Carol interrupts. “If he’s in the back, go get him. If he’s not, tell him I’m here and that the longer I wait, the more pissed off I’ll become. Got it?”
The doorman nods sharply before turning on his heel and heading toward the closed off offices in the back of the bar.
Carol rolls her shoulders once to relieve some tension before walking over to the bar; she finds the least sticky chair and takes a seat before tapping her index finger on the bar top two times to get the bartender’s attention. That was when she saw you.
You hadn’t noticed her until she’d sat at the bar, but you recognize the confident way she situated herself in the room as someone used to wielding authority. Seated so she had a clear view of most of the room and all of the exits, the woman leaned back into her chair, eyes flickering around the room until they stopped on you. You meet her gaze. As her intense honey brown orbs pin you in place, you begin to feel a bit shy; your heart pounds loudly in your chest and you lower your eyes. You curse yourself silently and tell yourself that she was just like any other customer. A hot customer. A really fucking hot customer. You would just do your job. Deep breaths.
The woman seems to notice your discomfort and her eyes glitter as they flicker up and down your body, pausing at your hips, waist, and the slight swell of your breasts visible over your black tank top.
You shift uncomfortably and tug at the hem of your tank, desperately wishing that you’d thought to put on your jacket before your shift. Your outfit was by no means revealing, but the way she was looking at you made you feel like she could see right through your clothes. Her eyes meet yours once more and she gives you a gentle smirk that makes your breath catch. Your hands immediately come together in front of you, fingers twisting around each other as you meet her steely gaze.
You stand up straight, lift your chin and walk over to the bar, fiercely hoping your demeanor doesn’t betray your nervousness.
“Hi, welcome to Mel’s. Can I get you something?,” you ask the woman, voice squeaking just a bit.
“Well hello there, baby,” she drawls in a sing-song voice, head tilting slightly as she gives you another long onceover; she doesn’t try to hide it, her eyes dragging the last few inches from your mouth to your eyes slowly. “Give me a shot of Crown, neat. Ok?”
“Yes, ma’am!” you quickly puff out, already retreating to fetch her drink.
Carol’s smile widens at the address and she thinks that maybe, just maybe, her night is turning around. As you turn around to grab a whiskey glass and pour her shot, Carol’s eyes crawl over the curve of your waist and delicious looking ass. Yes, indeed. Her night was looking up.
As you pour the drink you think about how...excellent the customer’s voice is. Husky and soft, it slithered into your ears and made you briefly wonder what that voice would sound like in bed.
You pour a healthy shot of the whiskey in the glass and set it in front of the blonde woman, before quickly stepping back. She raises the glass slightly in your direction before slowly sipping her drink, her throat bobbing as she swallows while staring directly into your eyes. Her wet, pink tongue slips out to lick a drop of whiskey lingering on her plump bottom lip. Your eyes are glued to the motion and your face gets hot when you realize she’d watched you watching her.
In all honesty, that was probably a bad thought. You didn’t know who she was, but all the other employees, and the few customers, seemed a bit on edge ever since she walked in. You weren’t quite sure why, but it almost seemed like Tony, the doorman, was scared of her. Which was outrageous. Tony was 6’5 and built like a Mack truck. But still, you knew that whoever she was, you should be cautious.
“Come here, baby,” she mutters, resting her elbows on the bar and leaning forward.
Your heart pounds in your chest, and your eyes wildly look around the room seeking anywhere else to direct your attention.
Your eyes settle back on the blonde woman when nobody else will meet your gaze. Not even Fred, the local drunk who spent most evenings begging for “just one more drink, love.” Traitors.
You shuffle toward the woman and start to reach for her now empty glass. “Do you want an open or closed tab?,” you ask.
She smiles up at you, revealing even, white teeth before winking and saying, “It’s on the house.”
Your brow furrows, confused before you peeked at Tony, who nods at you grimly.
“Oook,” you say, still slightly confused as you reach for the empty glass to place aside for the bar back.
In the three months you’d been working here, you’d never given anyone or seen anyone given a drink “on the house.” Mel wasn’t necessarily stingy, but you didn’t want to press your luck and drinks were priced so reasonably that nobody ever complained. But, if Tony was saying it was on the house, you had to take him at his word.
Her hand snakes out and catches yours before you can remove the glass.
“What’s your name?,” the blonde woman asks softly, thumb gently stroking the web of skin between your thumb and index finger. You start to jerk your hand away, but her grip tightens around yours, holding you in place. You freeze, eyes and mouth parting as your breath comes faster and you nervously wait for something, anything, to give you a clue to what she wants you to do. She looks at you curiously before releasing your hand and sliding back in her seat, back resting against the high-backed chair.
“I’m Y/N,” you say, breathing a bit more evenly now that she’s no longer touching you.
“Y/N” she repeats, the name rolling off her tongue melodically. “That's pretty. I’m Carol. How long have you worked here, Y/N? I’ve never seen you before.”
“Three months, but I’m not from here,” you blather nervously.
“Oh yeah?,” she smiles coyly, “where are you from, baby?”
You feel heat rising in your cheeks at the endearment, and you softly tell her where you're from.
“That’s fun. How do you like our little city?” she says, extending her arms wide open. “Have you seen all the sights?”
“No,” you reluctantly admit. “I came out here in a rush so I’ve mainly been focused on finding work and a place to live. Haven’t had time to do the tourist thing yet.”
“Hmmm,” she ponders, smiling gently while drumming her short red nails on the bar, “I’d love to be your tour guide, baby, if you’d like that. Take you to see the sights, take you to dinner. Do you work tomorrow?”
“O-oh,” you stutter, surprised that she’d managed to direct the conversation into an invitation for a date so quickly and smoothly. “Umm.”
“Do you work tomorrow, baby?,” she presses again.
“No, I uh, don’t. But I’m not--” you start.
“Great,” Carol interrupts. “That’s just what I was hoping to hear. Give me your phone number and I’ll call you tomorrow with something planned for us.”
You were taken aback. Yes, she was gorgeous and made you feel flushed and nervous (you supposed those were butterflies?), and would probably-- no, definitely-- show you a good time, but you weren’t sure you wanted to get wrapped up in whatever was going on here. But she’d already slid her phone across the bar and was beaming up at you expectantly. You figured that one little outing probably wouldn’t hurt. It’d been a while since you’d been out and Lord knew you hadn’t had time for anything fun and relaxing since moving to the city. You’d been far too busy scrambling to survive. Your hometown was expensive, but nothing like this.
As you reach for her phone you send a silent prayer that wherever you go with her wouldn’t be too expensive so you could insist on paying for yourself without cannibalizing your weekly food budget.
As you input your phone number, the woman, Carol, leans back in her chair and glances around the bar again before once more leaning towards you. Your eyes fall to her cleavage and your thoughts take a turn before you snap your eyes back up to her to find her laughing gently.
“Such a good girl,” Carol husks as she retrieves her phone from you and slips it into her trouser pocket as she stands.
She didn't touch you this time; you were already overwhelmed and semi-regretful and she looked like she didn’t want to give you any reason to try to run away from her. “Now, go get me another drink while I talk to Mel,” Carol instructs before and turning around sharply.
You’re thrilled to have something else to do, to focus on, so you didn’t notice the fearful look on Mel’s face as Carol strides up to him.
Carol didn’t exactly work for Steve and the Avengers, but she did operate out of their territory when she was stateside, and lately her business dealings found her on the East Coast. Staying with the family was just easier, and that sometimes meant getting caught up in their issues. She normally didn’t mind doing Steve a favor...but it’d been a hell of a week, and up until she’d seen the little cutie at the bar squirm so prettily under her scrutinizing gaze, she had not been happy to be doing this particular favor.
Well, Carol thinks, whores aren’t the only way to work out aggression. Looks like this God forsaken place would provide her two types of entertainment tonight.
Carol’s exchange with Mel is brief. She bulldozes over his stammered greetings and demands to know why he hadn’t been paying his security fee. Mel insists that he had been paying, he definitely wasn’t avoiding the family, and that someone new had come around and told him 3 months ago that there was a new payment method. He’d been leaving his payments in an unmarked envelope taped under a nearby bench. Someone had been picking them up, since Mel had made two payments this way and the first was gone when he went to make the second.
Hmmm, Steve will definitely be interested to learn that. Carol muses to herself.
“Ok, Mel,” Carol says to the stammering man.
“Ok?,” Mel repeats, hope creeping into his eyes as he looks timidly at her.
“Ok,” Carol reiterated, “I believe you. Which is the good news. The bad news is I don’t give a fuck who you say you paid, because bottom line is we don’t have our money. The money you owe us. So you have until next week to get it to us.”
Anger flares in Mel’s eyes before Carol puts a hand on his shoulder “Ah ah ah, Mel. I can just tell that I am zero percent interested in hearing whatever you're about to say. You pay by next week or I can break your other leg, too.”
Mel blanches and whimpers out, “too?,” just in time for Carol to slip her hand from his shoulder to the back of his head before slamming him nose-first into a nearby table. The crack is audible above the shitty music playing in the background. As Mel reaches to try to push himself up from the table, Carol brings her fist down on the fingers clinging to the edge of the table, breaking three on impact and then turns to forcefully kick one leg out toward Mel’s knee, forcing it backward with an audible CRACK! Mel’s scream cuts through all the chatter and music, a macabre soundtrack in the dingy bar.
Once that was done, Carol slides Mel into the booth she’d just brutalized him at and turns back to the bar.
You were cowering in a corner, back pressed as far up against the bar as you could, eyes frantically searching for an exit, body shaking, and breath huffing quickly. You’d finished prepping Carol’s drink just in time to see the breathtaking display of violence. You feel nauseated and scared and hot and dizzy, your stomach heaving at the bloodshed. You can hear your heart beating in your head as you watch Carol stride over to you, her eyes glittering in excitement and something that looked suspiciously like arousal.
She knocks back the drink you have waiting for her, before looking directly at you. You try to look anywhere but at her, but she was still all you noticed.
“Look at me,” she says firmly. Your eyes flicker up towards her at the command. “You answer when I call you tomorrow, ok baby?”
She waits for your weak nod, before smiling brightly at you and walking out the door.
Chapter 2
A/N: Thanks for reading this far. Let me know what you think!
#dark carol danvers x reader#dark!carol danvers#carol danvers x reader#carol danvers x female reader#dark carol danvers x female reader#marvel fanfiction#marvel fanfic#dark! carol danvers#carol danvers fanfiction#carol danvers smut#for keeps series
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Mob!Natasha x daughter!reader headcannons
masterlist
a/n: I figured writing some headcanons was a bit less pressuring, and I enjoyed this so much! I’ll definitely be writing more headcanons in the future :)
You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work
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Mob!Natasha who found you when you were just a baby. She heard crying coming out of the closet after she had just killed her target. Turns out, he had already found his next victim, you. Luckily, Natasha was just in time to save you from that horrible life and raised you herself
Mob!Natasha who raised you in the safety of her Russian home. Protected, hidden, and far away from the dangers of the world
Mob!Natasha who only allowed Melina, Alexei, and Yelena to see and know about you the first 5 years of your life
Mob!Natasha who started training you for active combat the moment you could stand, wanting you to be able to protect yourself, should you ever end up being mixed into one of her ‘jobs’
Mob!Natasha who loves you more than anything in the world, getting you whatever you want whenever you want it, yet still making sure you’re not becoming a spoiled brat
Mob!Natasha who puts her trusted bodyguard, Bucky Barnes, on any and every outing you go on. You leave the house for a walk? You better count on the fact that Bucky is coming. You want to go shopping? Don’t worry, Bucky will simply come to help you carry your bags. You want to have dinner with someone? Bucky will simply sit a few tables away from you, giving you privacy yet keeping a close eye on you
Mob!Natasha who is terrified when your existence becomes known after you and her are spotted going for a little shopping trip. She will upgrade her security everywhere, putting multiple bodyguards by your side every time you leave the house. Of course, she still trusts that Bucky is the best at keeping you safe, but just to be sure, you get a few more of her men
Mob!Natasha who sometimes allows you to sit in on her meetings, letting you sit next to her, or on the ground, whichever you prefer. It’s not like any of the people she is meeting with can say anything. That is if they want to keep their lives of course. Sometimes, if you forgot to bring something she will slide you her notepad for you to doodle on, or she’ll just stop the entire meeting and order one of her men to fetch you whatever you wish. She gets to decided how her meetings go, of course
Mob!Natasha who knows you adore her henchwomen more than anything. Your personal favourite is Natasha’s assistant, Maria. You know her and your mom have some more going on. You are not blind to the lingering touches and the sneaky looks they send each other. Of course, you are a big fan of Carol. She is just so cool and nice to you, even though she can kill someone with basically a glare. To you, she is the sweetest human on the planet
Mob!Natasha who knows you adore your aunt Yelena more than anyone on the planet. Because of that, she makes sure Yelena gets the opportunity to visit more than enough. Everytime Natasha has to leave for a slightly bigger ‘job’ she simply calls Yelena to keep you company. Natasha knows you don’t need a babysitter anymore, but she likes the idea of you not having to be lonely. Besides, it is much safer for you to be accompanied by your aunt Yelena
Mob!Natasha who knows how much you adore playing board and cards games, so she told her people to never deny you a game, were you to ask. Luckily, you mostly gravitate towards Carol and her girlfriend Valkyrie, and who were they to deny you a game? They loved your company, and they loved playing your card games with you
Mob!Natasha who, when you start dating someone, runs thousands of background checks, does hundreds of checkups throughout the day, and makes sure to give whoever you decided to date a little talk, letting them know exactly what’s waiting for them were they ever to hurt you
Mob!Natasha who had the best private tutors coming to your home to teach you everything you needed to know, giving you the highest level of eduction you’d ever need
Mob!Natasha who knows that you are financially set for life, but who still allows you to go to college if you would ever want to. Of course it would be an expensive, high security private school, but still
Mob!Natasha who takes you on the multiple holiday trips during the year. You want to go to Spain? Pack your bag because Natasha will have planned a trip next week. Obviously you both will simply take her private jet, but she needs a week to book some fancy holiday home for you two to stay at
Mob!Natasha who, despite her fortune, often books small, low budget holiday trips. Everyone knows those small holiday homes are the best and the cosiest. What kind of mother would Natasha be if she didn’t give you that experience?
Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @tia-thesimp @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @hor1zond1ar1es @lorsstar1st @superlegend216
#black widow#marvel#natasha x reader#mcu#natasha romanoff#avengers#natasha x reader platonic#natasha x daughter#marvel reader insert#blackhill#blackhill x reader#black widow x reader#natasha romanoff x daughter#natasha romanoff x reader platonic#natasha romanoff x reader#dark natasha romanoff#natasha romanova#maria x reader#maria hill x reader#maria hill#natasha x maria#yelena belova x reader#yelena x reader#yelena#yelena belova#carol danvers x reader#carol danvers#carol x valkyrie#valkyrie#king valkyrie
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home, sweet home
masterlist
dark(?)carol danvers x reader
word count: 4.5k
summary: when carol is sent a gift she refuses to accept, she discovers just how much she's been seeking a companion
warnings: human trafficking, past conditioning, elements of pet play, soft carol turned kind of dark? it's not her fault you're so cute
“I’m gonna have to call you back, Fury,” Carol mumbled, hanging up the coms device before the director could object. She stared down the unexpected delivery for a few short moments, trying to assess its reliability. She didn’t often get deliveries sent to her ship and it was even less common for them to be safe, though the small holes placed in the top of the crate sparked her curiosity enough to overcome her caution.
The Captain hooked her fingers under one of the top edges of the crate and pulled the lid off in one fluid motion and raised her glowing fist to shine on whatever creature was inside, slightly alarmed to see the face that peered up at her. Carol was quick to pull two of the sides off and grab the blanket that was hanging on the nearest chair to pass to you, becoming more confused when you merely stared at her blankly as you hugged your knees.
“Um, do you…hi,” Carol greeted tentatively as she placed the spotted blue blanket down in front of you and kept her eyes level with your own, hoping you would cover your bare form. You blinked, staring back blankly at the blonde crouching before you and gripped your knees tighter until there were half moons indented despite your nails having been cut the day before. She noticed the anxious gesture and moved back to give you some space, only then noticing the note attached to one of the discarded crate sides.
A gift of gratitude, the people of Krylor. Carol reread the note several times, taking a few moments to realise what your presence on her ship meant. Of course, she had heard the rumours of the intergalactic trade of humans that were passed around the cosmos, but she had never found enough solid evidence to even begin to tackle the issue until you arrived on her doorstep. Clearly the people of Krylor had greatly misinterpreted the kind of hero that Carol was if they had thought you were an appropriate gift, sparking a deep anger inside the Captain at such an assumption.
She looked back at you and immediately softened her features upon seeing the clear fear in your wide eyes that watched her apprehensively. “It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you,” she assured with a nervous smile, entirely unsure of how she was meant to deal with you. “Do you understand me?” She asked. You nodded. “Good, good…” she muttered. “You can come out of there if you want,” she offered, backing away again. You continued to watch her without moving a muscle. She nodded as she glanced around her ship for any clues as to what to do with you. She couldn’t keep you there, that much was clear. But where could you go?
Of what Carol had heard about the human trade, they all carried the brand symbol somewhere on their body which meant that the blonde had to be cautious where she sent you in case you ended up back in the wrong hands. Of all the people Carol could trust with you, none of them were better suited to take care of you. Her allies bases were too hectic to place you in, the most neutering planets wouldn’t be able to protect you if needed and other heroes stuck to themselves as much as she did. That only left her with New Asgard, though Carol had sent so many refugees Valkyrie's way that she was hesitant to give her more to deal with. It was easier to do when they were together and Carol could be around more to help, but since the mutual break up Carol's distance meant she couldn’t always aid her people.
The Captain glanced back at you mid pace where you were still glued to the spot and redirected herself to the kitchen to grab you a glass of water and placed it down next to the crate. You didn’t acknowledge it. “You should drink something. I’m sure it’s been a long journey,” Carol winced. She pushed the glass closer and stepped away. “Drink,” she insisted, which seemed to click something in your mind. You reached forward, but instead of holding the glass, you made your hand into a scoop and reached inside to gather some water in your hand and bring it up to your mouth.
“No, you-” Carol went to interject, startling you enough to shrink back into your crate. “Sorry,” she muttered, wondering if it would be best just to leave you for a while. You were clearly scared and confused and understandably didn’t trust the person you had been gifted to. Carol just wanted to try and communicate some reassurance to you, but she supposed that if you weren’t going to be with her for very long then there wasn’t much point in putting you through the additional stress it would take to get there. But sometimes you had to be cruel to be kind.
Taking a hold of the back of the crate, Carol pulled it against her as she walked backwards through the small ship and felt you stumble back inside. She brought you over to the corner between her sleeping area and the control panel and slotted the crate as far back as she could before grabbing a new blanket and hanging it over the front as a makeshift curtain, leaving a small gap in the side for you to peer through. It was the best she could do to make you feel safe for the time being. She placed the water back outside and put together a sandwich for you to eat, unsure of what you were used to and hoping that you would be okay with what she had.
“Okay, you can handle this,” Carol said to herself, a habit she had developed ever since spending the majority of her time alone with Goose who wasn’t big on conversation. She gathered that you weren't either.
“Crap,” she muttered when she saw her route to Earth was going to take a few days and that she would have to stop on the way for fuel too. She glanced back and noticed that the spotted blanket had vanished only to realise you had pulled it in. Carol smiled at that, hoping it gave you some kind of comfort, and looked around for some clothes for you to wear. She settled on a sweatshirt, some underwear and sweatpants and placed them outside your crate with the announcement that they were there. She wasn’t entirely sure you would take them, but a hand crept out from behind the curtain and dragged them inside.
Carol figured it was best to leave you to it for a while and turned back to her control panels that monitored any unusual activities in the galaxies closest. There was always work to be done, even if she did have a guest in her home. It was common for the blonde to spend several hours there without realising and it was always Goose that snapped her out of her workaholic trance, though that time the flerken did so in a new way.
Carol turned around at the sound of a distant meow, assuming she had gotten herself trapped in a cupboard as she often did when she went wandering around the ship, only to see the ginger tail sticking out from behind the curtain on your crate. Listening closely, Carol heard the familiar purr rumble from Goose and smiled, suddenly getting an idea.
“Goose,” Carol called as she sat cross legged a few steps away from the crate. The flerken appeared from behind the curtain and trotted over to the Captain obediently, nuzzling into her hand as she continued to purr happily. The curtain twitched and you peered around the gap to see where Goose had gone and blinked at the sight of Carol’s gentleness with the ginger creature. You pulled the curtain back further to watch with interest and Goose strolled back over to you, clearly enjoying the extra attention she was getting.
“She likes you,” Carol commented with an easy smile. Pretty. “You can come out of there if you want to. I’ll leave the crate there so you can go back to it whenever you want to,” Carol explained. You glanced around the room just as Goose sprang from your lap and jumped up onto the nearest counter to patrol her territory. You watched curiously for a few moments before stretching your legs out of the cramped space. The blonde averted her eyes at your still bare form, knowing that at some point she was going to have to help you dress.
“The bathroom’s just down the hall,” she told you. Your eyes flickered between Carol and Goose as you crept out of the crate and peered in the direction that she had pointed. When both feet were on the warm floor of Carol’s ship, you assessed her closely for any sudden movements and upon finding nothing, you continued cautiously down the hall. Once you had disappeared from view, Carol inspected the crate and noticed that the clothes she had given you had been pushed together with the blanket to form a nest. The glass of water was empty though the sandwich remained. That meant it had been a long time since you had eaten anything and seeing as it was Goose’s dinner, the Captain decided to make something up for all three of you.
When you reamurged from the hallway, the smells that hit you from the kitchen were heavenly. You didn’t recognise them but all you knew was that you wanted to know what was at their source and when you saw Carol standing over the stove, you approached slowly. She noticed you and smiled, following your gaze to the pot.
“Do you like rice?” She asked. That, you knew. You nodded. “It’s like that but an adapted version I learnt from the Skrulls.” You nodded again, deciding that you liked the sound of the blonde’s voice. “While we let it cook…shall we get some clothes on you?” She enquired. You glanced down and then back at Carol with a hesitant nod. You couldn’t remember the last time you had worn anything, but you followed a few steps behind Carol as she retrieved the clothes she laid out for you, knowing that if it was something she wanted then you should accept.
“Put your hands out,” she instructed gently. You did so and she bunched up one sleeve to slide up your arm and then did the same with the other before pulling the top over your head, chuckling softly at the sight of your dishevelled hair. You liked that sound too. And her sweatshirt. It was mostly white but had a few splashes of pink and blue swirls across it that you found yourself examining while Carol reached for the underwear.
“This foot up,” she coached with a tap to your left foot. You lifted it, then the other, until the underwear were pulled up your legs and fit comfortably around you. The sweatpants followed in the same way and you immediately felt considerably more comfortable in the clothes you had been gifted. They were a size bigger than what you needed, but you wondered if that made them better.
You gave her a small smile in recognition. “You can sit down while I plate up,” she told you, turning to go back to the kitchen but stopping when she saw you try to sit down on the floor. “Somewhere more comfortable,” she assured and pulled out a chair at the small table by the kitchen. You couldn’t recall ever having been let on furniture before, so it took you several embarrassing moments to get attempt to get on the chair, constantly wobbling until Carol muttered that you could stay on the floor, though not entirely happy with letting you do so.
You sat patiently there as you watched Carol finishing preparing the meal and plate two full dishes. The food was mounted so high that you weren’t sure you were going to be able to finish the meal and feared what would happen if you couldn’t. You had never been given so much food in one sitting before.
“Do you remember Earth?” Carol asked as she sat down at the table next to you. You didn’t recognise that name, so you shook your head and watched as Carol tapped her wrist band a few times until a hologram appeared between you. “That’s it,” she said, zooming in slightly on the sphere so that you could see it was a planet made up of majority water and that the land contained a vast variety of different conditions. It looked quite overwhelming and you certainly didn’t feel any compulsion to return if that was apparently where you came from.
“It’s not without its flaws,” Carol chuckled when she noticed your hesitance. “But it’s your home,” she said. You tilted your head in recognition and Carol took it as a positive sign. She focused on the hologram more. “Maybe here,” she suggested, bringing up a visual of New Asgard. It did look nicer than the rest of the planet, but Carol’s ship was growing on you unusually rapidly.
Of all the people you could recall ever meeting, none of them had been like Carol. They had been cruel and treated you as less than human, perhaps seeing you as such, and you hadn’t liked any of them. They kept you in cramped, cold places that you couldn’t escape from, making you unable to believe just how warm Carol’s ship was. And not just that, her as well. You had felt it when she dressed you, her hands radiated a gentle heat that you hadn’t ever experienced but were instantly fond of. Carol was the only person you had ever met who you had reason to trust, so you didn’t hope to part from her anytime soon.
You watched as Carol ate the meal she had prepared and glanced down at your own bowl and the spoon that sat in it. It smelled really good and it looked really good, you hoped you wouldn’t have to wait too long to eat it. “You can start,” Carol told you when she noticed you refraining. You blinked at her and the utensil she held in her hand that you couldn’t use.
Of course, the blonde thought as she realised why you hadn’t eaten the snack earlier either. You needed help. That explained how you had approached the water as well. Carol crouched down in front of you as you looked to her for guidance..
“I’m gonna help you,” she told you gently, bringing the glass up to your lips. You opened your mouth obediently for the Captain to coax the water past your lips gradually. She watched closely to ensure you weren’t taking too much at once and pulled back accordingly to replace the glass with a spoonful of the hearty meal she had prepared. After several moments, she sat down with you and stretched her legs out comfortably.
It was delicious, you thought as you savoured the dish while Carol did the same. You watched her closely for guidance as she ate and helped you, occasionally making comments about the various dishes she had learnt in her travels and how she had been able to share all of them with Goose given that his digestive system was practically impossible to disturb. Still, it was nice to share the dishes with another human, she told you openly with a small smile. You mirrored it, recognising that you were able to provide her of some kind of service. It felt good to please her.
“Do you want to watch a movie?” She asked once you were both done with the meal. Carol didn’t often host guests in general, never mind ones of your characteristics and needs. She hadn’t had many visitors during her time on Hala or when she lived with Maria either. However, if there was anything the blonde was neglecting in her hosting duties, you weren’t about to notice.
You watched curiously as Carol set up a movie for you near her bed and though you didn’t recognise the images that began to play, you were transfixed by them. You heard the Captain say something about Goose stealing her speaker as she disappeared through the ship to retrieve it. You waited several moments before wandering across the space and sitting down on the floor in front of the screen to admire it closely. When Carol came back, you already appeared fully entertained by the film so she left the speaker on the side and silently began getting back to work, glancing over at you occasionally to ensure you were okay.
You remained comfortably like that for some time until your eyelids began to feel heavy and there was a distant haze starting behind your eyes. Still watching the film, you lay yourself down and curled up on the hard floor by the screen, you were tired but unable to sleep so you peered back at the Captain who was already watching you. “You know, there are more comfortable places than the floor to sleep,” she told you with a small smile. You blinked at her. “You’re as bad as Goose,” she muttered to herself. “But it is getting late,” she admitted as she strolled over to your area and you immediately sat to attention. “Easy,” she chuckled, grabbing her sleeping shorts and a tank top.
Carol had her back to you as she changed, apparently unbothered by your gaze, letting you note the way her back muscles and shoulders flexed as she stripped herself of her clothes and into fresh ones. It was different having your owner not acknowledge you when they were out of clothes. A lot of Carol was different to the others, you just didn’t realise it was because she didn’t consider herself your owner.
“Do you want to sleep there?” She asked as she pointed to the crate. You understood the gesture and made your way over to the crate without being able to communicate that you would rather sleep elsewhere. The box was too small, something that provided comfort when you were unsure of the new environment, but since discovering that it lacked any threats, you seeked out the space that was at your fingertips.
Unfortunately, Carol couldn’t have known any of this and simply watched with a bemused smile as you dragged the blanket half way out of the crate so that you could stretch your legs out past the curtain. As the blonde got herself comfortable in her own bed, she continued to glance your way every time the curtain shifted until you opted to turn around completely and settle with your head outside the crate where you could keep Carol in your view.
“Comfortable?” She threw you another blanket despite the ship being a suitable temperature and you didn’t hesitate to bundle it up to use it as a pillow, still looking at her through sleepy eyes. Once she bid you goodnight and turned over, you let the waves of exhaustion wash over. It was the first time in as long as you could remember that it felt safe to do so.
*
Boredom was not something that had come to you in a long time. Usually, your empty moments were ruined with fear and anticipation for what was to come, but the safety and assurance you felt on Carol’s ship had gradually put your mind at ease enough to let those quiet moments be tempted by curiosity. Carol was a busy woman, always on the lookout for issues she would have to deal with. It left you unoccupied enough to let that initial hesitation be surpassed. You couldn’t live in fear forever.
You had been with the Captain for several days, the pair of you falling into a routine you were becoming accustomed to. She woke up first and prepared breakfast for you both, telling you all about the latest news from across the galaxy that you didn’t really understand. Whilst she would work, you would tentatively explore more and more of the ship you were temporarily living in, curious at the possessions Carol owned and the technology her ship possessed. The only reason you had the confidence to do so was the encouraging smile the blonde sent your way every time she saw you venturing further around her home. But it wasn’t a large home and there was only so much for you to entertain yourself with before you needed something different.
You perched yourself onto the floor next to the stool Goose was sitting on, still not keen on sitting on furniture. You held your hand out to the flerken who nuzzled into your knuckles affectionately, then glanced up at the Captain and wandered over to her side.
“We’ll be in Earth’s orbit in a few days,” she told you, bringing up an image of New Asgard again. You weren’t sure how to communicate that you didn’t want to leave, so you looked away. “I know it might be scary to move again, but they’ll take good care of you,” Carol said, placing a hesitant hand on your shoulder. The contact was unexpected, but you liked it. You met Carol’s unsure eyes and responded by resting your head against her leg, nuzzling into the soft fabric of her sweatpants slightly once you realised how gentle it felt on your skin. Carol was taken aback by the act, feeling a tenderness overcome her at the contact. She smiled to herself when you opted to stay put for a few moments longer. She didn’t have much contact with other humans herself and she didn’t realise how much she needed it until you offered it to her.
“You need a bath,” Carol broke the silence by saying. You pulled away and scrunched your nose up at her, making the blonde chuckle. “Come on, it won’t be that bad,” she insisted.
You watched as she walked off down the corridor and heard her start the taps in the bath. You remained stubbornly fixed to that stop on the floor until a faint smell of flowers travelled through the corridor. Following your nose, you wandered through to the bathroom where the sizable tub was soon filling with bubbles. It did look tempting.
“You wanna get in?” She asked with a knowing smile. You nodded. “Lets get those clothes off of you then,” she continued as she gently pulled the clothes off of your body and into a pile on the floor. You had been wearing the same clothes since she had given them to you because you hadn’t gotten them dirty and she was cautious of making you uncomfortable by stripping you too often. To her surprise, you didn’t react to her taking the clothes because your attention was fixed on the growing mountain in the tub. She chuckled and encouraged you in with a hand to the back.
Unfortunately for you, the tub was too high and you found the task of hiking your legs over steadily to be of some difficulty when you considered how you could slip on the other side. Fortunately, Carol’s strength was more than ample to lift you into the tub herself, something that made you smile fondly at her. You liked how strong she was, because you were learning that she wouldn’t use it against you, only as aid.
Once you were submerged in the bath, Carol brought over the flannel and soaked it in the water before ringing it out and bringing it up to your face. “Hold still,” she chuckled when you playfully darted away, stopping when you felt how warm and refreshing the cloth was against you. You allowed Carol to continue washing your body tenderly, humming softly to herself as she did so. She made the occasional comment about the different places she had acquired the unique soaps and you listened intently, wondering if she would ever show those places to you.
To her credit, Carol cleaned you thoroughly, using her soaps, cleansers and some shampoo once she began finding her own comfort in the task. The warm, soapy water felt just as good on her own skin as it did over you and there was a certain fulfilment in the way she was able to handle and aid you. She especially enjoyed massaging the shampoo into your hair and the small content noise it brought out in you. You both could have stayed there for much longer.
Once you were sitting on the bath mat next to the tub, Carol wrapped you up in a heated towel to stop you getting cold and did the same for your hair, effectively cocooning you snuggly. You didn’t like the hair dryer, she learnt, but not so much that you struggled too much against her when she began to use it. You sat obediently with a displeased look upon your face that was soon changed when you were dressed into a clean pair of Carol’s clothes.
“Did you enjoy that?” The Captain asked as she crouched in front of you. You smiled at her and nuzzled into her shoulder affectionately, making the blonde chuckle. “Me too,” she admitted. “We'll have to get another one in before you go.” Carol hadn’t expected to feel so disappointed as the words left her, but it was clear a part of her wanted you to stay. But by letting you stay, surely she was no better than the people who had taken you in the first place?
“Let's get some food,” she said to distract herself. You followed promptly behind her and stayed that way for the majority of the day as well as the ones that came after. Whenever Carol was working, you would sit or lay by her feet, content to feel her tower over you in a way that seemed to block the rest of the world out. When she cooked, you sat to the side and watched with eager eyes and a growling stomach. When she took some time to unwind and watch some tv, you listened out for her chuckles with soft anticipation.
With you becoming so used to seeking out a close proximity to the blonde, nighttime was hard. You didn’t like the crate anymore, even with all of the blankets and sweaters you had stuffed inside. It wasn’t enough and it was lonely, so one night you ventured out to her bed.
As you peered at Carol’s sleeping form, you frowned at the small lights that were attached to her temple. She didn’t look happy to have them on, despite being asleep. She was restless and a crease was permanently embedded between her brows. You didn’t like to see her like that and wondered if the device on her was hurting her, so you scrambled into her bed and patted the device. Carol awoke with a start, eyes locking on your as she panted heavily. She was scared. You had never seen her scared before.
You whined, high in your chest, and burrowed yourself into Carol’s chest, nuzzling your head against her wildly beating heart. The blonde froze at first, still recovering from her nightmares until your efforts appeared to smother her terrors because you pressed yourself so firmly against her. A pair of strong arms wrapped around you and pulled you up her body until your face was between her neck and shoulder and you took the cue to settle yourself there as you held her.
“Hey,” Carol whispered once her heart finally returned to its resting rate. She brought a hand up to your hair and began to absently comb her fingers through, wanting to feel you in your entirety. It soothed her to no end, she realised, and it was something she would soon have to give up. You would be in Earth’s orbit by the morning. She didn’t want you to go, so she held onto you tighter as her chest pulsed with the thought that you wouldn’t be there the next night.
Did that have to be the case? She wasn’t hurting you or manipulating you or exploiting you. She was caring for you, something that very few would be able to do as much as she could. Even if she took you to New Asgard, there would be no one on one connections like she had formed with you because they would all be too busy for that.
You had found solace with her, who was to say you would be able to find it elsewhere? With someone who could care for and protect you as well as she could? What if by sending you away, she was ridding you of the only home you would ever truly have?
“Do you want to stay here with me?” Carol asked. You held her tighter and tenderly brushed your lips against her neck. “Me too,” she told you with a relieved smile.
Her mind was made, your home was with her.
#marvel#dark!marvel#carol danvers imagine#carol danvers x reader#carol danvers#captain marvel x reader#captain marvel
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Haven’t seen The Marvels but I’m convinced that the bad reviews are written by misogynists cuz there’s no way they’re saying it’s the worst marvel movie when Thor: Dark World exists
#the marvels#marvel#MCU#Thor#thor dark world#kamala khan#Carol Danvers#monica rambeau#photon#captain marvel
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could you please do prompt 168 with carol x fem reader? if you’re comfortable writing that of course:)
𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐥 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ���𝐨 𝐫𝐨𝐭
synopsis: Trying to find peace at your job’s gala, but a familiar haunting shadow finds you once more.
pairing: dark!Carol Danvers x brown!fem!reader
ao3 // modern au // 5k words.
warnings: dubious wlw smut (forced stimulation, vaginal fingering), stockholm syndrome, toxic established relationship, domestic violence, mention of childhood abuse.
a/n: Carol’s outfit reference. title is a reference to the song, Mary by Alex G. requested 168. “Don’t get too close to that one, she’ll singe your fingertips and have you on your knees.” from this dialogue prompt list. dog metaphors, because I must write pain. Channeled my inner amy dunne for Carol. I’m sorry that I’m just finishing this 2 years later, but I hope whoever requested this, I hope you see this! <3
“She became the parent, the lover, the friend you’ve always craved for—- and yet, here you are,”
The truth can sting, just the sharp tip of a knife, flickering at the raw flesh. Poking and prodding till there’s small plots of ichor forming.
“——broken…” Her index finger arched, halting her words, still a vivid memory, “…. but not beyond repair.”
A scoff escapes.
“What is love without hate, I guess.” Unconsciously it spewed from your lips, the vowels felt like acidic vomit. A pregnant silence arose.
That all knowing head tilt, with those observant eyes—- always earned uncomfortable tension within you.
“Love isn’t meant to be confused with hate.”
The cigarette burns slow between your clenched fingers, nursing three fingers deep. Brown liquor swishes against the carved rocks glass, its clear silver grooves twinkles under the gala’s vermilion hues.
Fragments of words compulsively knock against the walls of your brain; as you mull at the gala’s open bar. A scorned woman who just wants peace, and quiet. Lingering stains of hurt that can last a lifetime settles to silence for once in a long time.
Showered an ugly duckling with affections, and built the pillars of security. Growing up in a childhood filled with anxiety and fear of attachments, lingering stains of abuse from the very beings who birthed you into this world.
She cleaned you, bandaged the scars, and assured you that she was the only one who adored you—- persisted that she was the only one who would.
Now, fighting violently in the legal battlefield of divorce, these past weeks have been mentally exhausting —- all whilst handling the burdening responsibilities of your profession.
Your very mind and hands helped craft this sophisticated gallery.
Your boss, Mr. Laufeyson, opened a new exhibit in the National art museum—- Norse history, one of his niche fixations. A man birthed on Norwegian soil, but raised in the monarchal land of England.
An established man who often seeks to explore the rich culture of his ancestors with much sophisticated adoration, and esteem. The Norse exhibit is now the largest section of the institution, with vast collections of rare artifacts protected behind hard stainless glass.
He breathed down your neck for long weeks, you had the task of restoring each piece that had been brought in, nearly breaking your damn back from all the hovering.
A gala bustling with a sea of middle-class folk, and self-proclaimed aristocrats of New York. You sought solace at the open bar, smoking a stogie—- and slipping into the whiskey.
It wasn’t a preferred choice, but it helps give a quick kick to your nerves. Seeking solitude away from pressures to gallant with faux professionalism, and an particular noisy friend, who should be presenting the Norse gods section.
Earlier, she was pestering with a thousand questions flying by the mouth —- if you ever gave thought to rekindling with Carol.
Dissociating into a mindless static, flickering at your clear square nails, as your cigarette burns slowly. At first, the mention of this exhibit with your boss months ago sent you into a frenzy of joy, but now—- it’s a dreadful experience.
All you long for is to start your weekend, to cuddle with your daug—-
“What an incredible scent you have—-”
Oh God, no.
“—- is that Histoires de Parfums, 1969?”
Fuck.
“I haven’t been around that perfume in a long time.”
It’s as if she can smell you a mile away.
A sensual, purring voice whispers near you. A shadowing silhouette eclipses the shimmering ceiling lights from your peripheral vision.
Your lips wrinkle, restraining the foreboding tears of frustration. Tightly nodding, swallowing a sob. Your breathing becomes heavier.
A hum, “It really smells wonderful.” With precision, the shadow sits onto the empty seat beside you.
“Thank you.” A forced smile curls at your mouth.
“With that scent, I’m surprised you’re not being hounded by the men here tonight.” A subtle wordplay, are you looking for anyone tonight?
As if your mind has forgotten all the bad, and reminisces on the good, all the fun, all the beauty that once blossomed.
“It’s not men I'm looking for.” You whisper, snuffing the cigarette into a provided ash-tray. A creamy hand strokes your knuckles, and your skin shivers under your blouse.
A jolt to your groin, and your breath hitches. All she can do is just touch you, and it’s as if you can get on your knees, and forgive her for everything.
“Why?”
You can see that pearly grin, from the corner of your eye, teasing and twisting.
“They’re too easy to hunt?”
You exhale a chuckle, eyes still trained onto the glistening counter.
“They bore me.”
“So—” Her voice lulls as a moan, “—- see anyone worthwhile?” Her fingers curl around your glass, twirling it by the rim. Your lipstick stain faces her direction, and bold as always, she lifts for a sip. Connecting the lip stain to hers, her eyes never leave yours.
It’s not tacky, nor forceful. How she moves is as if it is her nature.
Your eyes gaze over your shoulder, taking a full look. Finally, to drink in the force of nature that is your estranged wife—- Carol.
Her blonde tresses cascade on her shoulders, milky breasts on display. A pristine, black dress, that cuts and splits at the chest hem, polished nails, and clean skin. Her dress halts near her knees.
“Well, I have my eye on a blonde tonight.” You say timidly. Tenderly, your eyes glance fleetingly, a quick trace over Carol’s bodice, nearly losing your composure.
A pregnant pause.
That pretty pink mouth stretches smugly, as if the cat that got the cream. The hooks caught the flesh.
“You like blondes.”
Her tone lingers as an open question, guising the truth.
“Just one in particular.”
Sinking now, the hooks are tugging.
“Really?” Carol leans, her eyes hooded. “Which one?” Pretending to scan her eyes across the ocean of people.
But your eyes remain fixated on her. As if you were a lost puppy, just gazing at its human. Lucidly, influcating between the spaces of yearning, and guilt.
How at ease Carol is, as if nothing was wrong. The charming woman, the woman you thought she was. The woman she wanted you to think she was.
“The one in the black dress.” You say softly, and defeated brown eyes.
Carol’s eyes gaze back at you from the corner of her oculus, downcasting with a mirth, humming a chuckle. “Don’t get too close to that one, she’ll singe your fingertips and have you on your knees.” She shakes her head, an enticing warning.
A dangerous but delicious fruit hanging at your reach. She wants you to take the bait, urging you to—- to get you back in her grasp, and if she does, she won’t let you go.
This game, a cat and mouse play, is all too familiar. Playing as strangers, attracted together by lust, and curiosities—- the type of curiosity to feel the other’s flesh, subtle carnality. Act out, with playful words, pretend to be different people.
It slowly suffocates you, a twang in your chest, a reminder that this isn’t normal.
She isn’t normal.
Carol can be an array of personalities, she can be the doting wife, the whore in bed, the mother—- she can be the bitch with a violent mouth. Different faces for different folk, no one knows her true self, and she’s good at it —- real good.
So, when you tried to seek help from friends, they couldn’t believe it, nor did they want to. You’re not surprised that Carol snuck into the gala—- your co-worker, Maria, who you thought was a true friend —- the matchmaker from hell, let her in, unknowingly allowing the terror onto you.
But, that’s no surprise. Maria has been Carol’s right hand since their days in the Air Force.
None of your friends believe you—- and, it’s hurtful to admit, you’re too scared to speak about all the hurt Carol made you endure over the years.
Barely spoke of the discomfort Carol used against you, and all your shared friends thought you misinterpreted. All saying that Carol is just head-strong, and that you two are perfect together.
Carol feeds the fire with a ‘She’s just going through a tough time.’
Boundaries aren’t respected, everyone trying to push you back together, inviting Carol in social events —- to the point where you didn’t go out anymore, and just drowned in work.
“I like challenges.” Carol softly leans in, her breath fans the bare skin of your shoulder, “All the more fun when I win.” Her voice drops low, to a wispy whisper.
Her body heat engulfs you, and your eyes droop with haziness for a slick second. You can’t—- not again. No matter how intoxicating she can be, how delicious, it’s not worth your peace.
You’re too drunk for this.
“This cat is too tired to entertain.”
“Who said you were the cat?” Carol’s brow arches, halting you in your step. Carol’s infliction hardens, from the corner of your oculus, you can see the clench of her jawline. That pretty mouth morphed into a restrained frown, the same one you see before a punishment.
An offense has been made.
“I didn’t realize the roles were switched.”
The mask slips.
It’s always her way, her rules. Because no matter how clever, how coy the mouse can be, the cat always wins.
“You’re getting brave on me?” Carol asks.
And now the mask has been dropped.
“I think it’s best I leave.” You quickly collect yourself, a bit wobbly from the alcohol. Leaning against the counter to regain your composure, trying to stand upright.
Not this time. You won’t fall for her charm.
Carol sucks her teeth, “You’re seriously going to leave? Aren’t you tired of this childish bullshit?” Crossing her arms against her chest, lips wrinkling into a scowl. Carol talks as if scolding a child.
Your body twists in a haste, “My bullshit?” Your teeth are gritting harshly, hissing. Angry eyes pierce over the hill of your shoulder, fingernails digging into the leather of your purse; if not the leather, her eyes preferrable.
But this is a place of work, no matter how elegant the night is, you will scream if you have to—- just to escape her. You click your tongue, shaking your head in disbelief.
“I mean I’m usually amused by your brattiness,” Carol laughs sarcastically. “But, now it’s gotten too far.” Her fingertips graze your arm, toying with you, soft and playful—— her fingers grasp your arm in a clutch, earning a whine.
Her eyes are hooded, nearly tugging you downwards. A whine bubbles at the pit of your throat, too terrified to even move.
“You have to come back home.” Carol says, a strain to be sweet, but it’s as if a monster tries to be human. “I miss you.” She purrs, but her eyes … are cold, and agitated.
You remain silent, closing your eyes shut, gliding down in your seat. “Carol… have you signed the divorce papers, yet?” Your eyes stay glued to the sticky counter.
Carol chuckles, “You’re going to try to talk business to me, and you can’t even look me in the eye?” Her baby pink polished nails thump against the bar, thump thump thump.
“I don’t want to fight anymore.”
“And neither do I.” She sips her drink, smirking into the cup, “But it seems my wife likes to play games.” So light, so sarcastic, chastising you as if this was a running joke on your end.
“Carol, for fucks sake.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, “You made me go crazy.” You bite on those words, full teeth. Fingers curling into makeshift claws, vowels spilling as acidic vomit.
“Controlled me, like I was your puppet.” Your fingers curl and slither in gesture. “Manipulated me against the world, against our friends.” Your mouth opened again, the words weighing heavy against your mouth, but a hum interrupted.
“Look up at me when you talk.” Carol says, your eyes peer up through your lashes, owlishly. “If you’re going to lie, you might as well make it convincing.” She licks her lips, tasting the remnants of her liquor.
“I —- I—” you can’t find the words to even respond. You stare at her incredulously, she will never admit to it. Even now, she has you questioning your own sanity, if it was even worth fighting against her.
It’s not worth screaming about it. Not anymore.
“I have to go.” Swiftly, you stand up, with a bated breath.
“That’s how you talk to the mother of your child?”
Stiffening, as the hairs that align a cat’s spine, “Don’t you dare!” Your index finger pointing, shouting in a hush. “Stop using Kamala against me—” your voice wavers, throat nearly choking a sob, “You did enough of that in court.” Big brown eyes sheening wet, the last nerve shot.
Trying to maintain a level of calm, eyes fluttering back and forth around, seeing if anyone has witnessed your outburst.
“I don’t even have to do that,” Carol’s open palm gestures to your rigid stance, “she can see perfectly fine how erratic you’ve been.” Carol hisses, making your nose scrunch up.
Kamala adores — idolizes— Carol. So memorized by her strong, willful mother, since she was a waddling baby.
You haven’t dared utter a bad word about Carol in-front of Kamala, fearing to shatter the fragile bubble you curated as a shield for her. You wouldn’t let her witness the court meetings, especially the negotiations of joint custody.
By every fiber of your being, you’ve tried to make this separation as discreet as possible—- but Carol has been a devil, bulldozing those efforts. To make you appear as the bad parent.
You can’t stand her lawyer, Carol hired one who hails from Hell’s Kitchen—- fitting since he’s a thorn upon your rib. Subtlety bringing up your mental health, questioning your abilities as a mother —- no doubt, Carol was chewing his ear off about your past.
All Kamala knows is that her mothers are splitting up, with foreign lawyers, and that she now has to split weekends—- those pained brown eyes, her puffed cheeks, it kills you deeply—- all the guilt weighs on you, it feels as if you’re to blame for all the problems.
“You’ve taken so much from me, Carol.” You lean in, kneeling at her eye level. “My dignity, my peace— shit— even my sanity.” Your body anxiously fidgeting, breath quickening.
“But I will not, let you take my child away from me.” Your fingers dive into your purse, fumbling with irate, snagging the last cash you had—- with the finality of this conversation, slamming the money onto the marble countertop.
You carried Kamala, incubated inside you for nine months, fed her from your breast—- you will not lose her, not over your cold dead body.
“Goodnight, Carol.”
Sharply, you turn on your heel, leaving Carol without turning back. Walking with a gait, faking confidence, but truly at your core, a gnawing sense of uneasiness.
-
The corridor stretches as a miniature maze, the more you descend out of the gala, the less crowded it is. Turning left and right, trying to find the exit.
The ambiance is of grainy gray, the tinted blurred windows are foggy with the night’s shadows.
The echoes of clicking heels are faint, your mind doesn’t register, as your own feet and mind are stuck on auto-pilot.
“There she goes again,” an agitated voice snags your attention, brows furrowing, “always acting like the little victim.”
Not granted the chance to realize, in a flash, just as quick as you turned your head, rough hands grab you by the curve of your shoulders, throttling you against the chilled wall pavement.
Earning a hiss, and a gasp, stinging pain births and stretches along the muscles of your spine. Quickly, your fingers fruitlessly try to claw at Carol’s, but all it does is make her more enraged.
Carol thrashes you once more against the wall, and another for good measure; airy gasps of pain escapes you, tears beading at your lashes. That militant discipline seeps from her pores, it’s not a stranger to you, the rough edges of her touch is a familiar bruise.
“It may have worked with the rest of the world,” Carol barks in your face, nose to nose, “but it’s not going to work with me.”
Sniffling, your chin wobbles, trying to restrain a sob that burns your throat raw.
Carol hums, that tut of a sympathetic mother, “Look at us.” Her thumbs rubbing your shoulders, pressing on the blooming bruises. “I don’t like it when we fight.
Eerily, she influcates from predator to savior, “You always get erratic, and you know it upsets me.” Leaning in, her pink lips press a kiss on a falling tear.
“Where’s my special girl?” Carol whispers. Fear is beating inside of you, buzzing as tv static. Staring at Carol through your hooded lids, terrified, and confused.
Carol purrs, awaiting for an answer.
“I’m here.” Barely a murmur, you speak softly.
Carol thrives off of her aggression. But it’s not the traditional masculinity that some women possess in their personalities. She feels it’s the only gift her father ever gave her.
“It’s very cute that you try to fight me.” Carol mocks, her knuckles stroke your cheek. Carol hums, her eyes tracing over every facial feature.
“Let me see if she missed me.”
A string of no no no slip from you meekly.
One of Carol’s hands graze over your shoulder, twirling her fingers into your hair—- gripping between her fingers tightly. To then cup the nape of your neck, her thumb pressing slightly over your pulse point.
As she has you pinned by the scruff, her other hand flows down your cavlices, to your clothed breast—- she snags the collar to expose skin.
Groping a handful of your tit, she mutters still so soft, traveling down the path of your navel—- with a quick precision, Carol snatches your groin; more like clawing.
A sharp gasp escapes you, and all she does is laugh.
A quick glance at the end of the hallway, praying that nobody turns the corner. Carol snickers. “Afraid someone will catch us?” You exhale a huff, nose flaring.
“I remember you used to be quite adventurous.”
“That’s when I was young and stupid.”
Her eyes narrow, pinching your vagina in her hand even tighter. With her knee, she wedges her thigh between your shaky legs, spreading you more open.
Slithering her hand through the stitched fabric, her knuckles stroking your sensitive skin. Your breathing becomes heavier, and all she does is smirk.
Moving your panties to the side, Carol’s makes herself home to your body. Ashamed to feel yourself grow wet, and Carol moans.
“It seems she missed me.”
All unbridled frustration hits the hilt, you cry in a stretched whine, thrashing in her hold. In need to escape, you wanted to go home, away from her.
All these weeks of trying to flee from her, do the right thing to gain custody, to live a good life, give your daughter stability —- all of it goes down the drain by her simple touch.
Beating on her arms with fists, slapping and trying to knee her in a weak spot. Carol’s eyes darken—- as if she’s bored of the insolence.
Carol pushes her weight onto you, pinning to the wall. And her fingers don’t cease on her assault.
“I hate you.” You choke on a wail, your head tilting up as a child.
“I’ve saved you.” An expert circular motion of her fingertips, sending a jolt to your bundle of nerves.
“Who else can say that?” Carol leans in, her head tilting, as her lips meet your cheek.
Softly, she kisses you, caressing and grazing against the skin of your cheek.
“I took care of you, and you just want to leave?” Carol’s pink tongue slithers between her lips, licking and nibbling. Boldly, her fingers dove between your folds, playing with your wetness.
“You wanted a savior, baby, I’m it.” The bridge of Carol’s nose traces yours, humming at the wet sensation of your tears. “You were nothing before me—-” another finger plunging inside you, “—- and you will be nothing after me.”
“I — I — would rather be alone.” You say with a stammer, lips wet with tears. Mouth curling into a brave scowl, regaining some bravery, “I’ll be fine.”
Carol’s face leans a little back, tilting her head mockingly. “When I say nothing after me, I mean it—-” Carol’s teeth bare as fangs, “you’ll be buried six feet deep, before I let you go.” Her fingers grip the nape of your neck, tugging you in.
“No one can ever have you.” She whispers.
Your eyes are owlish, you don’t doubt her…. her time in the boot camp was extensive, you felt her trained strength many times—- she loves like a knife. Many bruises healed over the years.
Not brutal beatings, but very handsy.
A glimmer of fear suffocates you, your body keels as a leashed dog.
Her fingers slither against your peach fuzz, slipping between your mound, toying with your wetness. Splitting your velvety folds apart, Carol vulgarly strokes you with her fingers sloppily, staining the hem of your panties.
Carol grinds herself onto your thigh, you can feel a wet spot pooling at her silk panties. Your fingers are digging into her forearms. A rough dance of humping and grinding, both reaching for a high.
Your wet walls can’t help but suck her inside, clenching tight. Fiercely plunging in and out—— it’s been some time. Since the last time, you were touched. It’s bordering on painful, a bit tight.
You did entertain another for a while. A woman you met at a bar. Short dark chestnut hair, a soft posh english accent, a bold yet cheeky mouth. She said her name was G’iah, you never met anyone with such a name.
Despite the attraction, the idea of offering yourself physically was too overwhelming. But, the emotional energy was wonderful. It was a breath of fresh air.
You just couldn’t bring yourself to love another.
Skin screaming for touch, yet your heart is trying to fight back. The flesh only reminisces the good, but all the hurtful memories are chained to your mind.
Carol’s mouth ajar, hovering over the meat of your cheek. Your face scrunches, eyes tight, a whine boils at your throat. She breathes a chuckle. She always finds amusement in your misery.
Carol loves to play God—- the Old Testament God. In the carnal sense, and in spite. Worship her, and only need her, obey every command, but commit a sin—- and she shall see to it, that her pettiness will rule over your life.
Her fingers spread, your slick connects to her fingertips, flickering the gossamer thin threads between her expert fingers, diving into you.
Her teeth grazes your cheek, her warm breath cascading against your mouth. Torn between closing your thighs to stop her, or thrust your hips into her hand.
Carol’s tongue slips out, and kitten licks your parted lips. Her pink tongue licks your canines, inhaling your breath. Sweet scent of liquor coats your tongue, Carol suckles into her mouth, moaning at the taste.
A lewd pop comes from Carol pulling back on your tongue, as her fingers curl harsher. Bordering on pain, the pleasure is electric. Pulsing through you, as her thumb toys with your swollen clit.
Her moans are animalistic, you can feel her pussy splitting, a sensation of silk and waxed bare skin. Her clit is grinding fully onto your thigh. It feels so damn good.
A part of you wants her to cum on you. To use you.
Carol’s face tilts away from yours. Her brown eyes swirl with malice, narrowing for a split moment. A smile stretches.
“Kamala would be so hurt to lose her mommy—” Carol’s words earn a mean eye from you, but all she does is laugh humorlessly. “How could you abandon our child?”
Like a stab to your heart, Carol just twists the edge deeper. Her fingers still deep inside you, clenching in need for her to finish— to get you right at the precipice.
“I would never leave Kamala,” you speak with a strain, a rough slice at your throat. “I love her.” Bordering on pleading, your eyes water-sunk.
“Then why do you make her cry?”
“What?”
“Every night she asks why her mom isn’t home,” Carol leans more of her weight on your belly. Her fingers fucking you harshly, hitting that sweet spot so perfectly. Your juices are now soaking down her hand.
“She cries till she falls asleep. She thinks you hate her.”
Torn between rutting your hips into her palm, grinding and fucking her fingers as if it was one of Carol’s toys —- and the need for space, to free yourself from these clutches.
Salty tears fall to your wrinkling lips, shaking from silent tears.
“It doesn’t have to be this way,” Carol says, her voice smooth and affectionate. Her lips pouted, “We can be together again.” Her shiny blonde hair kisses her lashes, in the grainy city lights, she looks innocent.
“Don’t you want to be a family again?”
She pushes her fingers further, slowly playing with your clit— and then stops, edging you. She can feel your spongy walls nearly spasming. Carol knows how to play the strings of your flesh.
Damn her.
“I do.” Your voice gurgles in a sob.
You know she’s tricking you… and you enjoy it.
In some deep seeded—- an absolutely fucked —- part of you, relishes in it. Because it’s all you know. But, it’s that glimmer of tenderness, the kisses, and honeyed words that pulls you back in.
Back to mutilate yourself on her knife over and over again. And isn't that what love is? Carol would say, time and time again, after the dust settles from her fits of rage.
Wet squelching floods your ears, echoing throughout the empty hallway. Your hand trails to her waist, gripping her dress, roughly grazing the smooth skin of her waist.
Legs entangled, and Carol’s thrusts are getting faster, sloppy. Her moans are getting high-pitched, away from primal and more girlish.
You cling to her, in this moment, you just need to feel anything. And you know she needed it too.
A burst of euphoria, hanging onto each other, as if both would fall apart. Carol felt it, how you spasmed on her fingers. Clenching so tight, trapping her hand for a moment.
Bated breaths dance against each other, hair flying by the breeze of huffing. Yours are gasps of relief.
In a desperate plea, you reach for a kiss, but Carol pulls away.
“I hope you learned something …” Carol hisses, her fingers stroking between your slippery folds, agitating your over-stimulated clit. The meat of your thigh quivers, tailbone pinching as you try to mesh into the wall, far from her.
Carol takes her fingers out, leaving behind an empty feeling—- like a void. Without blinking, Carol unabashedly suckles on her two fingers, tasting you.
“I hope you make the right decision.” Carol whispers against her tips. Pulling her warm weight off of your bodice, a chill sweeps against the tepid sense of your belly.
Carol hums for a moment with a stony face. She tugs on the collar of your dress, the top of your bosom exposed —- it was a stiff gesture.
Without a word, Carol posed her spine, and walked away, a snide side-eye.
Leaving you behind with an ache between your thighs, love bites across your chest, and fresh bruises. Left behind in the chilled hallway, and in wrinkled attire —- as if you were a used whore.
Your head falls, crying into your chest. Your fingers pulling your dress down, your inner thighs tender. Your fingertips touch the wet spot Carol left behind near your knee.
A pause.
It’s wrong, but you crave her taste. Suckling your fingertips into the cave of your mouth.
You can still smell her fragrance lingering—- and yet, you crave it, hoping it clung to your dress.
-
Timid footfalls carry you through the high-end residential hallway. Bated breath, and in wrinkled clothes, you lift and loosely drop your luggage in your grip. Pacing back and forth, trying to salvage any scrap of courage to knock.
Your head is bowing down, chin to chest. A stop in-front of the door. The reasoning motivating your surrender blurs—- is it for Kamala only, or is it also that a loyal dog who always forgives?
A silent white flag has been waived.
A lonely dog always comes back.
Dull steps creep closer, syncing with the beat of your heart. One unlock, and another follows. Defeat seeps from your pores, a bone-rattling warning siren echoing in the rush of your ears.
The door knob slowly twists, as if she’s mocking you. But not a second more, the door creaks open. Green eyes blink back with mirth, and a smile.
No words are needed.
Carol hums, stroking your hair, fingers gliding down the terrain of your neck, guiding you inside by the nape of your neck.
-
Awaiting on the bed is a silk nightie, and skincare, curated by Carol’s choice. Pristine, wrinkled-free silk. Not one flaw in sight.
She knew you would come back. A cocky woman, and yet she’s never wrong. A stir of irate coils in your belly, but it’s snuffed before it can disrupt.
-
In the dark, you tip-toe down the hall. Elated and relieved, it felt like a century crept by, but it was only a week of separation.
Weekends weren’t enough. You needed to see her everyday.
Brown fingers slowly grasp at the knob, twisting open. The white walls are adorned by the flash of a night light that glows small stars glimmering against the ceiling.
A room of action figures, anime, music posters and a wall dedicated to her drawings. That familiar scent that never really went away, that baby smell that clung to her as an infant.
Kneeling into her bed, curling under the blanket. Legs curling underneath you, knees bent, as you caress Kamala’s scalp, furling her hair behind the shell of her ear. Your brown fingers melt into the onyx shine of her tresses.
Her sleepy cheeks puffed, she looks like a sleeping cherub. Silently, tears cascade against the hill of your nose, staining the pillow sheet.
For months, you’ve tried to conjure ideas on how to run away from this life with Kamala, but all your ideas end up in the possible reality of being arrested with charges of kidnapping, and never seeing your daughter again.
The truth of the matter is -— you will crawl skin bare in the deepest parts of hell just for her. Suffering silently in these marital ruins, for the sake of being able to raise your only child, is what you will do.
You don’t know what you want with Carol —- you don’t have anything else to offer as a wife, besides submitting your entire being as a sacrificial offering.
It’s all she ever wanted. Wholesome love is seen as a defect in Carol’s eyes, a trait taught to her by her father. Control over everything is what brings her peace. And being cared for is what brings you solace.
The only person in the world Carol doesn’t unleash her wrath upon, who she adores entirely, is Kamala. Never once has Carol raised her voice, nor her hand at Kamala.
It’s disturbing, to see Carol be so genuine in her affections.
But, you’re ever so grateful. Despite being a masochist, under all the rubble harboring in your cavity— is a little girl suffocating for tenderness. For anything, just for someone to hold her.
Carol is a peculiar creature, and yet she has driven you to the brink of madness over the last stretched months, because she can’t bear to lose you —-- that has to mean something, right?
But as you lay here, wallowing in the dead silence, staring at Kamala slumbering —-a thought came to you; a lingering fear. Paranoia gnawing at you, chewing away bit by bit.
You wouldn’t want Kamala to suffer like this one day.
#widowsofchaos wrote this#carol danvers x reader#dark Carol Danvers x reader#carol danvers x female reader#dub non con#dark elements#lesbian Carol Danvers
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The amount of review alerts that I've gotten that The Marvels was the MCUs "lowest ranking" movie has been absurd.
1. They released it during the Writer's strike and couldn't promote it properly
2. 2 out of 3 (3 out of 4 if you count the antagonist) are women of color
The movie- which I loved by the way- got little to no support. The actors couldn't even post bts photos until after the movie came out.
#the marvels#kamala khan#monica rambeau#carol danvers#marvel#thor the dark world is literally right there#brie larson#wandavision
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Anyways, enjoy these random pictures for my photos
#wandavision#natasha romanoff#nat x reader#natalia romanova#natasha#natasha romanoff x female reader#natasha romanoff x you#nat x you#natasha marvel#wanda maximoff#dark natasha romanoff#king valkyrie x reader#valkyrie smut#valkyrie x reader#king valkyrie#carol danvers#carol danvers smut#carol danvers x reader
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Taking a few requests for the following:
Dom Natasha
Dark Natasha
Dom Yelena
Dark Yelena
Dom Kate
Dark Kate
Dom Carol
Dark Carol
#I’ll take a few requests#dom carol danvers#dark Carol danvers#dom natasha romanoff#dark natasha romanoff#dark yelena belova#dom yelena belova#dark kate bishop#dom kate bishop#kate bishop x reader#carol danvers x reader#Natasha romanoff x reader#yelena belova x reader
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A midnight surprise//NSFW
Authors note: okay so this is my first EVER thing i've actually written and went through with, tell me if you want a part to or some shit, i did not proofread so like yeah be prepared, also i wrote this at 2am instead of sleeping it is now 3am, so god help me
(OKAY so this is the writer at a reasonable time, I wrote this 2-3am, so if it makes no sense, sorry, I was on an adrenaline rush [Also, I was just rereading this, and I think I completely changed the plot halfway through, still kind of makes sense.])
warnings: smut minors dni, possessive!wanda, mentions of drinking, toxic relationship, rough sex, semi-public sex, fingering, oral sex, knife play, mentions of drinking, strap-on sex, lesbian sex (obviously), manipulation if you squint
relationships: possessive!wanda maximoff x fem!y/n, natasha romanoff x darcy lewis x carol danvers x fem!y/n (platonic), jimmy woo x fem!y/n (platonic), darcy lewis x monica rambeau (mentioned), natasha romanoff x maria hill (mentioned), obsessive!exgf!agatha harkness x fem!y/n
summary: wanda is in love with y/n, like madly in love with her, they're practically already dating, just that, y/n doesn't know it yet! so when wanda sees your ex, agatha harkness, kissing you at a bar, her anger is immeasurable, so at midnight after the incident, she decides to pay you a visit. (btw they both work for s.h.i.e.l.d)
words: 1,922
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Wanda cornered you in the bathroom, "You're mine," she said, jealousy as clear as daylight in her eyes as she held the dagger to your throat, "I don't want to see you around that whore again." She pressed the dagger to your cheek, letting the the smallest bit of blood drop onto her dagger before licking it off. "W-Wanda, we broke up months ago, I'm not into her!"
It was hard to argue back when Wanda's hand was pressed hard against your throat, your words slipping off your lips. Wanda's eyes narrowed in anger as she leaned in closer, the dagger coming dangerously close to cutting through your throat. "Did you forget already that I can do that?" Wanda pushed down harder on the dagger, her expression slowly turning into one of worry, "You won't be forgetting about this anytime soon. You're mine."
She dragged you into your apartments bedroom and practically threw you to the mattress. A couple hours ago you were just relaxing at the bar with your friends, why'd Agatha have to be there, you broke up 10 months ago, and yet when she noticed you she immediately started flirting with you. Wanda jumped on top of you and pinned you to the bed with her arms, she started kissing you neck with anger and lust, "You're mine." She repeated, "Not Agatha's, not Nat's, not anyone else." Wanda's lips went further down to your neck. She placed kisses onto your collarbone before getting to your belt buckle and unclasping it, dragging it down along with your panties. She had already ripped your shirt off so she continued to unbuckle your bra, struggling as she had you pressed under her on the bed.
You tried to flip around so you wouldn't be naked, but Wanda just pushed up her body to the side, pressing her breasts firmly on your back while sticking her dagger in your back, making you whimper. You gasped as her hand covered your mouth, "Sorry," she whispered before planting a kiss on your neck, "But I just can't let Agatha touch you. She's not going to get away with this, if I have to kill someone, it'll be Agatha" She then went to take off her pants, only to reveal the surprisingly large strap she had hidden under them.
Your mouth dropped at the sight of it, so she took the chance to thrust it into your pussy, making you moan at the haste of it all, the perfect mixture of pleasure and pain. She put her mouth to yours and pushed her tongue inside to swallow all the noises you were making as she slowly started to thrust into you. Slowly soon turned into her bottoming you out as she thrusted deeper than you thought was possible. Her thrust were harder and faster than you've every experienced, and you were approaching the edge quickly. "You're mine Y/N!" Wanda hissed in your ear, her fingers digging into the flesh of your back before giving you one final thrust, sending you off the edge. The orgasm was so much that you passed out.
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You wake up the next morning to find you're still in the same position you were in the previous day, but now Wanda is gone. You're feeling slightly refreshed after sleeping in, but your back was really sore, and you don't feel the sheets that were covering your body. Your legs hurt from laying in the same position for so long, and your mind was more sore than your body was. You decide to get up and take a shower, still covered in sweat and smelling of sex.
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As the exit the bathroom, you think back to the night before, and your eyes darted to your bed. The sheets and bedspread were all folded neatly, but all the notes Agatha had been sending over the last few months were gone from your vanity, Wanda must have taken them. You were still unsure as to what Wanda was really up to, but you couldn't find the words to come to terms with her mind games, her manipulative actions. She practically broke into your apartment at midnight with her dagger, green jealousy radiating off her. You opened the door to see who was there and she just barged in and started walking you backwards, shutting the door with her foot, into the bathroom. It took you a while until you realized she was jealous over the fact Agatha was at the same bar as you last night and was flirting with you. How'd Wanda even find out, and more importantly, she liked you? You thought back to what happened at the bar.
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Natasha and Darcy were talking about their crushes, Maria and Monica, while Carol was observing, she noticed Agatha from across the bar and tapped your shoulder, recognizing your obsessive ex-girlfriend, you two were dating for 4 years, you had wanted to leave several times, but she always convinced you to say, eventually you had enough of her bullshit and left at night without another word. when she figured this out she was texting you for days before you blocked her. It had been 9 months since then and here she was, practically running towards you.
"Heyyyyyyy Y/N!! Howww have yoou b-eeeen!?" She was clearly way too drunk, as her words struggled to come out in coherent sentences and slurred around. "Uhm-" you tried to say, but Agatha interrupted you, "Y'knoowww, I'm reeeally sorrrrry aboout what happppednedd, I n-evvveerrr meannt tooo pusshh yoou a-awwayy!" Carol watched in silence as Nat and Darcy were trying to keep themselves from bursting out laughing, but they stopped when drunk Agatha gripped you by your suit's collar and pulled you in for a kiss.
It took you a couple of seconds to process what was happening while her lips were on yours, but when you did you pushed her away as fast as you could, "Agatha, I'm not into you, how many times must I tell you this, stop sending me your fucking letters, we broke up 10 months ago, go get laid by someone else!" You snapped, and the people around you were shocked, Agatha looked about on the verge of tears, she turned around and sped away. You immediately felt guilt rise up, but you pushed it away, Agatha should've known better. Little did you know, your other secret admirer, Wanda, was too in that bar, watching the scene unfold.
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After eating breakfast and getting ready, you headed downstairs to your car so you could head to S.H.E.I.L.D. headquarters. That is wear Jimmy stopped you, "Darcy told me all about what went down last night, what a coincidence!" He laughed and so did you, "Yeah but I didn't mean to make her cry, but I just snapped, I forgot how difficult she is to handle.." "Well, more reasons as to why not to get back together!" he responded, putting a smile on your face, he always manages to do so. "Well I'll see you later, I'm heading to work." "Later!!" You heard him yell back as you walked away.
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When you arrived at the headquarters, you immediately went to your private study, not wanting to talk to anyone else of the incident. When you walked in you locked the door, but when you went to turn on the lamp in the dark room you were pinned against the door with speed "W-hat!?" "Shh hon.." when your eyes adjusted to the darkness you saw Wanda. "Wands?" Wanda laughed a bit at your nervousness, "Yes love."
"Uhm, why are you here, what is happening, what happened last night, do you like m-" before you could fins rambling, Wanda shut you up with a passionate kiss, when she finished she responded "Well, I never got to finish what I started last night, since you passed out, never even got a chance to taste you!" Now that your eyes were just about fully adjusted to the darkness, you could tell Wanda's eyes were blown and darkened with lust.
She rose her knee to be firmly placed against your already soaked pussy, she grabbed your hips, pinning you to the door with her body, and began to grind you into her thigh, making you moan and whimper, you bucked your knees and began going faster, already close to the edge. Her grip on your hips tightened and she started grinding you harder and faster against her thigh, and when you were about to fall of the edge, she pulled away.
"Hey what the h-" before you could protest she grabbed your neck and started kissing you, forcing her tongue into your mouth as she rotated the both of you and dropped you in an arm chair, she then quickly tore your shirt off and starting palming at the back of your bra. When she got it off, she put her mouth around your nipple while taking off your pants and underwear. She started kissing your neck leaving marks as she teased you. Her hands groped your tits and clit at the same time, but she also grabbed your nipples and pinched. The pain was soon replaced by pleasure as her soft touches sent waves of pleasure through your entire body.
She moaned as you started grinding into her hand, feeling your orgasm start to rise. You moaned "Ahhhhh!" loudly and leaned into her touch, and suddenly your wall dropped and your climax hit. She decided this was the right time to stick three fingers into your pussy and started thrusting them hard and deep, through your orgasm. "Wands, sensitive, please" you mumbled, struggling to turn incoherent thoughts into coherent words. You could already feel the next orgasm coming quickly, she could tell from the way your pussy was clenching her fingers like she was their life line, "I saw what happened at the bar," she said as she was still thrusting into you, you moaning wildly, " I don't want you kissing anyone but me." and with one particularly hard thrust you fell of the edge screaming her name.
She wasn't done yet, she took out her fingers and put one to her mouth, tasting it, "Mmm, so sweet" she moaned, she put the other two fingers up to your mouth as she worked to sit between your legs, but you couldn't care less. "Try it" You opened you mouth and sucked on her fingers, groaning at the taste. "Yeah good I know right, can't wait for more" "Wait what do yo- OHHHhhHH" before you could finish, Wanda started devouring you, which you were not prepared for, Wanda was sitting between your legs and was sucking on your clit like a hungry infant, not only was her tongue going wild on you, her fingers she had just put in your pussy were slamming in and out and she took one and sucked on it. You tried to scream, but before you could Wanda took your clit between her teeth and bit down, feeling her teeth against your sensitive spot sent you to your climax, the only problem was you had no idea how.
You just fell in her arms, completely spent. Wanda crawled up and kissed you, leaning back against the wall with a smug look on her face. "Did you hear me, no more Agatha or anyone for that matter." "Yeah yeah, of course.." you mumbled as you lay comfortably in her arms. As you fell asleep, Wanda whispered in you ear,
"You're mine now detka."
#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x reader#scarlet witch#the scarlet witch#scarlet witch x reader#dark wanda maximoff#wanda fanfic#natasha romanoff#darcy x monica#darcy lewis#natasha romanoff x maria hill#jimmy woo#carol danvers#captain marvel#agatha harkness#first fic#possessive behavior
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Okay, everyone. On my way-- call you all back from space.
#comicedit#marveledit#gotgedit#avengersedit#captainmarveledit#themarvelmultiverse#cbnetwork#usergenosha#marvelcomicsdaily#marvelladies#comicwomen#carol danvers#captain marvel#gotg#char: carol danvers#type: comic edit#comic: captain marvel: dark tempest#queued#*original
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For Keeps (2/3)
Pairing: Dark!Carol Danvers x Female Reader
Summary: Carol sees you. Carol wants you. Carol gets what she wants.
Series Warnings: extremely dubious consent, strap ons (r receiving), sex (oral, vaginal), fingering, anal fingering, Dom!Carol, orgasm denial, spanking, violence (not really towards reader), manipulation, forced relationship, rough sex
18+ ONLY
Link to Chapter 1
Chapter 2
As you drag yourself up the stairs to your studio above the bar you reflect on whether living at home with your parents had really been that bad. This kind of thing didn’t happen where you were from and it had you thinking that perhaps it was time to revisit your long term plans. Coming back home after three months was kind of pitiful, but even that might be better than getting pulled into a world you have no business in. One filled with casual violence that made your stomach turn.
Especially since you were now dreading the inevitable phone call from Carol. You knew she would call and you knew you wouldn’t be able to say no to her. That was a dangerous road to start down. Better to nip it in the bud ASAP.
Calling an ambulance for Mel and closing down the bar mostly by yourself made for an extra late night and all you could think about was taking a hot shower (your meager attempt to wash the violence off of you and out of your mind) and climbing into bed. You wish you’d given yourself a glass of wine “on the house,” but after Carol’s display, it seemed like Mel really couldn’t spare the extra cash.
When you awake late the next morning it’s with a pounding headache and two missed calls from an unknown number. You also see a voicemail notification. Your mind quickly flashes over the events of the preceding night and you immediately wish you were still sleeping. For some reason you feel like you should be sitting up while you listen to Carol’s message, so you throw your legs over the edge of your sofa bed and drag yourself into an upright position.
As you suspected, the message was from Carol and she sounded like sin.
Beep. “Hey, baby. It’s me, Carol. I had such a good time with you last night, and I can’t wait to see you again. How about I pick you up tonight at 7pm for dinner and a show? Call me back with your address as soon as you get this. Ok, bye baby. Talk to you soon.”
You squeeze your eyes shut and press 7 to delete the message. You never should have given her your number. And you definitely couldn’t go out with her. She’d hurt Mel! In the three months since you’d moved to the city, Mel had been--well, not a friend exactly--but a stable acquaintance. He’d given you a job and a place to live, and only price gouged you a little. But the commute to work was unbeatable. You generally liked Mel and wanted him to be ok. Carol, or whoever she was representing, could have offered him some kind of payment plan. From what you could tell from his tearful blabbering while you waited for the ambulance, he’d made an honest mistake.
You also knew that while you might be telling yourself you were refusing to call Carol back out of some source of solidarity, the simple truth was that Carol scared you shitless. She also didn’t seem like someone who handled rejection well. And you aren’t interested in standing up to her and risking her undeniably brutal wrath. You don’t think that she would hurt you like she’d hurt Mel, but you also don’t think she’ll simply accept your answer and leave you be. So, to your bleary brain, ignoring the problem is the next best thing. You busy yourself with laundry and tidying your small apartment; your distractions work well until Carol’s next two calls at 5 and 6pm. She doesn’t leave any more voice messages and you hope that she got the message that you weren’t interested and that she would lose interest in you. You spend the evening with a bottle of cheap red wine and Netflix. You tumble into bed around 2 am and fall into a fitful sleep. When you wake up in the early afternoon the next day, 6 hours before your 7:30 pm shift at Mel’s, you nervously check your phone for more messages. To your relief, there are none.
Carol’s good mood fizzles in the 24 hours after meeting you. The morning after Mel’s Tavern she’d woken up in high spirits. After a quick 6 mile run, she’d showered, eaten a hearty breakfast, and started planning her date. She’d settled on a location for dinner, made reservations, and bought tickets to a popular live show. She’d called Y/N to tell her all about their night, then called again to leave a message. By 5pm, Carol was irritated, and by 6pm she was worried. She’d even driven by Mel’s around 6:30pm to see if you were working. If Carol had known your address, she wouldn’t have hesitated to drop by. By 7:30pm Carol was back in the gym, sparring just a bit too viciously with Natasha.
“Damn!,” Nat huffs out as Carol puts her on her ass for the fifth time that evening. She sits up while rubbing her side and looks at Carol through the red sheet of hair that has fallen over her face. “Did I happen to do something to you? Because, if so, you should know I’m very sorry. Can you please stop beating me up? ”
Carol sticks out her hand to help Natasha off the mat. “Sorry. I’m a little distracted today so I wasn’t really paying attention.”
Natasha, now standing, looks quizzically at Carol and then laughs, “I feel like I should be insulted.”
Carol smiles. “Never, Nat. You always give me a good fight." The next moment her smile turned sour. “I’m just frustrated and a bit pissed. I met this woman last night and she gave me her number, but then started avoiding me. She won’t answer her phone and stood me up for a date. That’s actually where I’m supposed to be now. But I know she likes me. I saw the way she looked at me and reacted when I touched her. But, she’s just too nervous to admit it.”
Carol rolls her eyes and throws her head back as she releases a frustrated grunt.
“Ok, woman troubles. Now that I can help with,” Nat chuckles. “If she’s too shy, then you need to be bold enough for the both of you. Don’t let her say no.”
“You know what Nat?,” Carol grins, “it’s like you read my mind.”
Carol strides into Mel’s Tavern at 9 pm the following night. She walks directly to the bar, ignoring everyone around her and heading straight to you.
As she approaches, your heart starts racing and the room feels much hotter than it had moments ago. She was just as breathtakingly beautiful as you remembered and your mind empties for just a moment. She didn’t look happy, but she also didn’t look like she was about to fling a knife into your heart or drive a fist into your face. That had to be a good sign, right?
“Hey, Carol,” you choke out quietly. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“No, Y/N. But I would very much like to speak with you.” Carol states calmly, hands braced against the edge of the bar and body leaning over the counter towards you. “Why don’t you take your break now?”
You gesture aimlessly to the few scattered patrons in the bar. For the second time in as many shifts nobody would look at you. They were all suspiciously interested in the glasses in front of them, even if those glasses were empty. You grit your teeth and say, “Someone might need me.”
Carol frowns, looks around and asks the room loudly, “Anybody here need anything?”
A chorus of “nos” come back to her.
Carol raises one of her perfectly arched eyebrows and beckons you over to her with a softly crooked finger.
You scoot to the section of the bar directly in front of Carol, cross your arms and look down. Carol reaches across the bar with her right hand and, taking your chin between her thumb and forefinger, pushes your head up until you meet her eyes directly.
Your brain races through excuses frantically. You knew it was a possibility she’d show up and you should have prepared better. Maybe you could say that things have been a little crazy in your life and you don’t have time to pursue anything... with anyone? Not just her? It was a pitiful excuse, but the best you could come up with.
Carol looks at you, head tilted slightly, brows furrowed, and eyes narrowed as her thumb gently strokes your face. Her expression could only be described as frustrated yet determined. “Baby,” Carol began slowly, “I’m confused. When I came in two nights ago, we had an instant connection. That doesn’t happen often, does it?”
Your head jerks quickly back and forth, signaling no.
“Ok, that's what I thought,” Carol continues. Her voice hardens slightly, as does the hand holding your face. You wince at the sudden pressure. “So why didn’t you call me back? Why did you make me call you four times with no response?”
Your head feels dizzy and your lips stay glued together. You're on the verge of a panic attack and all you could think of is getting her to let you go.
“Answer me, baby. Now,” Carol commands, as her grip on your chin tightens further.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. Your eyes squeeze shut and your upper body is leaned back as far as you can while your face is still being held by Carol.
Carol abruptly releases your face and you have to take a quick step and set your hand on the bar to rebalance your body.
Carol’s hand snakes out and grabs yours, holding it firmly so you can’t walk away. Her voice softens some, but still sounds slightly harsh .“Ok, I’ll forgive you this time. But don’t let it happen again.” From her back pocket she whips out a piece of paper and a pen. “Write down your address so I know where to pick you up tomorrow.”
Once Carol pockets your address, she reaches for your hand once more. “How much longer do you have on your break, baby? Let’s go outside.”
After walking you outside, Carol immediately presses you against the brick wall and pushes her lips against yours in a forceful kiss. Her tongue slips across the seam of your lips until you open to allow her entry into your mouth. She sets to exploring every bit of you, sucking your tongue into her mouth and nibbling on your lips until they are tender and you are breathless and dizzy. Then she’d promptly untucked your shirt, unbuttoned your jeans, and slid her hand down to your slippery folds. When you try to move away, her free hand tightens on your waist and shoves you back, making your back scrape against the wall.
“Mmmm, is all this for me?,” she murmurs, nuzzling your ear, as her fingers part you and begin gently rubbing from your clit to your slick opening. You squirm on Carol's fingers, and Carol slides her thumbnail over your sensitive clit harshly, making you yelp. “Did I tell you to move?”
“No,” you whisper.
“When we're together like this you call me Ma’am,” Carol growls. “No, who?”
”No, ma’am” you gasp out while trying desperately to stay still. She slides two fingers into you and your walls flutter furiously around Carol's fingers, searching for relief. “Sorry, ma’am.” It comes out as a whimper.
Carol pushes her fingers deeper up inside of you and you choke. Her free hand slides under your shirt, over your waist and ribs, before spreading and tightening under your breast, fingernails digging into the hollows between your ribs, scratching your soft flesh. Carol thumbs your taut nipple, and a moan bubbles up in your throat as you fight your every instinct in your attempt not to move. Her warm breath fans over your neck as she shifts your body flat against the wall, caging you in.
Carol pinches your nipple sharply as her fingers begin to push into you harder and faster. She focuses her thrusts, curling her fingers inside you to rub your spongy flesh until she hits that exquisite spot that makes you moan and shiver. The slick sound of her fingers pumping in and out of your pussy fills your ears. That and Carol’s murmuring are all you can hear. Her voice pitches you higher as she calls you her good girl, her sweet girl, her hot sticky tight little girl.
Your heart pounds in your chest as you feel the relentless rising in your core. You approach the edge of a wicked orgasm, and just as you feel yourself begin to teter over, Carol slides her fingers out of you and starts slipping them, in a whisper soft motion, over your clit, just barely brushing you. The abrupt emptiness has you whining sharply.
“No, no, no,” Carol whispers in your ear. She presses her body firmly against yours, “No coming for you. You were a bad girl. Do bad girls get orgasms?”
“No,” you gasp.
Carol pinches your clit sharply once before going back to her soothing motion, “No, who?”
“No, ma’am,” you whimper.
“Good girl. We’re going to do that a few more times while you apologize to me, ok? Hold on, baby.”
Feeling lost, you loop your arms around her neck and drop your head into the crook of her neck. Carol’s long slender fingers push roughly back inside of you, furiously rubbing you as you whine and squirm against the wall. Before long you hear yourself apologizing for not answering her calls, for worrying her, for standing her up.
She tortures you throughout your broken apologies, bringing you to the edge over and over only to force you back down.
Finally, finally, she must decide you’ve apologized enough, and she whispers in your ear as her fingers pick up again, “Shhh, now, I’m going to let you come baby. You’re being such a good girl and you apologized so nice. But don’t you ever ignore my calls again. No matter what.” Her voice hardens and her slippery fingers pinch at your clit gently--making you jump and yelp--before pushing them back inside you, “You understand me?”
Your brain is fuzzy and can’t seem to string together enough words to form a sentence. When you first saw Carol enter the bar you definitely didn’t intend for this to happen. You’d hope that you could somehow weasel out of a date with her without her getting mad. Things had obviously not gone according to plan. You must take too long to respond, because Carol’s free hand reaches to twist your clit harshly, making you howl.
“Answer me. Now.” The fingers inside you don’t stop.
The sharp pain from her twist radiates up your body, and temporarily mutes your rising orgasm. “Yes,” you sob pathetically. “Yes, I understand, ma’am.”
Carol uses the entirety of her body weight to push you up against the wall. Your back scrapes the wall as her fingers pick up speed and she coos softly in your ear. Her fingers push you violently over the edge, and you buck harshly between the wall and Carol's solid form. Carol’s fingers fuck you through your orgasm as she nuzzles your neck, licking and nipping at the tender skin there as you come down.
Carol watches as you readjust your clothes and wipe at the mist in your eyes before she walks you back into the bar. She drops a possessive kiss on your mouth before heading toward the door. At the last minute, she turns and looks you dead in the eye. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Right, baby?”
You look back at her and nod. “Yes, ma’am,” you whisper under your breath.
After dropping you back at work, Carol walks to her car with her lips curled into a smile. She is sure that she’s on the right track with her sweet, shy little baby. She's even hopeful that she might be able to trade in her unused tickets for show credit that she could use for her date tomorrow night with you.
Chapter 3
A/N: Thanks for reading and for any feedback you give. Please do let me know what you think so far. It's much appreciated. Also, I know need to work on my dividers.. haven't quite figured those out yet. Thanks for bearing with me.
#dark carol danvers x female reader#dark carol danvers x reader#dark!carol danvers#dark!carol#avengers smut#marvel reader insert#dark marvel au#marvel fic#dark! carol danvers#tw dark fic#carol danvers x female reader#carol danvers x reader#smut#tw dubious consent#tw dubcon#for keeps series
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Fortnite getting all these super high quality lego renders is funny to me idc
X-Men ladies by epic games
#for your use as jovial little pfps#fortnite#marvel#marvel comics#lego#lego games#captain marvel#carol danvers#xmen#x men#x-men#jean grey#dark phoenix#rogue#domino#laura kinney#x-23#wolverine#betsy braddock#psylocke
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Illicit affairs wanda :D
💖- Happy headcanon
😋- Funny/stupid headcanon
🥖- Food headcanon
🛌- Sleep headcanon
🏡- Domestic headcanon
🗡- Badass headcanon
Damn this took way too long and it is 2 am. By the end I got too tired so there might be some mistakes. In my defence i am sleepy as hell. Hope you enjoyed it!! Have a good day or night.
🗡️ Badass canon
You knew Wanda was going to kill you for this but when Darcy offered you to teach how to ride a bike, you couldn't say no. For once you wanted to be the one who could be the badass and damn you did it so well. Calling Wanda outside while riding the bike to where she was. At first the protective side of Wanda wanted you off the bike but even she had to admit how hot you were looking in your leather jacket and the helmet which the moment you took off to give her your million dollar smile, she couldn't help but think of you as a cute puppy. The same puppy who decides to run off everytime she would hold off tightening the leash.
"What do you think you are doing?" She asked crossing her arms and you watched in panic as her expression changed from amusement to the familiar strict look you were used to getting, you opened your mouth to say something but know words came out as you already worried the punishments she could list off but when the older girl started laughing you pouted, "I hate you." You muttered and put your helmet back on. "Where are you going, silly?"
"away from you." You muttered and Wanda rolled her eyes, "not gonna take me out on this?" Wanda asked in a flirtatious tone,her fingers dancing around your arm. You gulp and handed her the helmet.
The sad part being you and Wanda only made around the block twice before Wanda told you to cut it out, scared both for her and your life as she dragged you in, still very much aroused of this badass look you had seemed to adopt. The first time she almost wanted to thank Darcy for her little help.
--
🛌 sleep Headcannon
Wanda and you have almost started sharing her room now. Each night you would now refuse to leave her bed, begging to stay the night and as much as Wanda enjoys her game of push and pull she would let you stay, letting you cuddle close, telling you how she would not allow this tomorrow but even you knew that Wanda from few months ago would have hold onto her words but now even she enjoys your presence too much. Waking up to you in clinging to her, begging to stay a bit longer but just one command and you would be back in line. She loved the power she had on you even when you weren't fully conscious, it was a big boost to her ego but sometimes when she would be feeling too generous she would let you sleep longer, pull you closer and run her hand through your hair making you feel safe.
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🥖 food headcannon
Wanda hated how much of a picky eater you were before you and her started this whole thing. At first Wanda thought it was just few of the specific but when she realised it pretty much included every leafy vegetable, she called a 'no' and decided to purposely bring you smoothies of kale and spinach or beetroot. A part of her of course enjoys exercising the power she had on you but a big part of her cares about your health too. When you noticed the two glasses of smoothie in her hand when she walked over to the bed one morning, your stomach set in a dread, "Um..maybe you are right, I should spend some nights in my rooms too, I will start from now. Bye!!" You quickly got up to run but Wanda grabbed you by your collar before you could run past her. "Get your ass back here." Wanda pushed you back on the bed, ignoring your pout as she sat on your lap, "Finish this first." All your begging was turned to a deaf ear as she finished her own drinking, raising an eyebrow when you didn't begin immediately. After much gagging and begging when you finished, Wanda had a big smile on her face, clapping her hands in cheers before kissing you, telling you how proud she was of you. maybe in that moment the bitter taste of the smoothie turned into something much sweeter.
💖 Happy Headcanon
Wanda knew your obsession with cookies and when you finally listened to her all two weeks, sleeping in your room focusing more on your studies, giving your exams with perfect scores. She decided to find a perfect day to use the kitchen when no one was really around in the house, she took the opportunity, starting to bake your favourite chocochip cookies. Wanda wouldn't admit but she had grown to love you in her own way, enjoying how much you would appreciate every little action of her and how obedient you were becoming yet having some fight here and there that would keep Wanda entertained. You were the perfect partner for her. Scared of her. Loved her. Appreciated her. She wanted to do something special for you.
That night Wanda brought you cookies to your room and helped you study herself that you didn't understand if you liked or hated because with Wanda teaching you something, you could hardly focus. All you cared about how beautiful her lips looked when they were moving but that night your sole focus was on the cookies placed next to her which the woman was only giving on right answers although it only took two kisses from you to hand over the plate and even going as far as putting up a movie saying you deserved the break with how good you have been. Needless to say Wanda did show you how good you have been for her in various other ways that night.
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🏡 Domestic headcannon
Wanda and You have been sharing the room now. It was not even a question. You spent all your days there to the extent that there were your clothes in Wanda's wardrobe. Your books on her study table. Your pillow on her bed. Even though she drew the line at your Nintendo switch coming into her room but you managed to snuck it in. Though Wanda would threaten to kick you out from time to time but she wouldn't fall through with her threats. She wouldn't admit but you have grown on her and she enjoys your presence way too much now to push you away. Plus that way she reassures herself that she could keep a closer eye on you than before but everytime you would walk out of the washroom with your hair still wet and just in a tshirt, she would know all over again why she was having trouble putting you back in your room.
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😋 funny/Stupid canon
You hate to admit it but Wanda was right about you blindly following all of Darcy's plans so when she asked you to help pull a prank on Carol and Natasha , you agreed being happy that atleast Wanda wasn't the victim of her little stunt. She told you all you had to do was empty their shampoo bottles and you thought that was it, that was her plan but boy you were wrong. The little devil had mixed a purple dye in it. So the next morning when Carol and Natasha barged into Wanda's room with Wanda already in a sore mood teaching you something and you hardly paying attention, you knew you were doomed.
"what the fuck happened to you two?" Wanda burst into laughter and you couldn't help but follow insuit until Natasha went to grab you, "No! I am sorry!" You yelled clinging to Wanda who could still not stop laughing even after Natasha telling her that it was you and Darcy, the woman only pulled you closer away from the duo who wanted to drag you. "Nope. Leave her alone." You really didn't understand if it was really Wanda or someone else in her body because was she really protecting you? But when you looked at her, she was still adorably laughing at the two now even taking pictures with her phone.
Natasha and Carol only called her a bitch and turned to leave but the moment they turned, Wanda burst into another fit of laughter when she saw how Carol's back had "This is me Dora, blind bitch" written on it. You only was mesmerized by Darcy's guts to take on Natasha's punishment and doing all this just for some dare she had with a another sorority girl. "What is it?"
"nothing you two just look even gorgeous from behind." Wanda replied laughing. The duo only showed her finger and left. The moment they left you were ready to defend yourself, telling how you thought only emptying the shampoo was prank but the older girl dismissed your concern, telling you that you were safe and to get her water while she post something on her group chat.
You couldn't help but mentally thank Darcy's and her plans to save you not only from studying but a punishment as well. Alas you couldn't say the same for her.
___
#answered#anon#illicit affairs au#reader#natasha romanoff#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff x reader#mcufic#wanda x y/n#lesbesapphicwrites#wanda maximoff#sorority mcu#sorority leader! wanda#sorority wanda au#wanda fanfic#wanda x natasha#carol danvers#wanda#dark wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff angst#wanda x you#wanda maximoff smut#wanda maximoff x yn#wanda maximoff x femreader#mean wanda x reader#wanda maximoff x female reader#wanda x fem!reader#reader insert#wanda mcu
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Captain Marvel: Dark Tempest #1 (Marvel, July 2023) Hellfire Gala Variant Cover by Jen Bartel
#captain marvel#carol danvers#hellfire gala 2023#hellfire gala#jen bartel#hellfire gala variant cover#captain marvel: dark tempest#variant covers#marvel#comic covers#comics
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you drew stars around my scars, but now i’m bleeding
SUMMARY - your relationship with natasha had been perfect from the start. she had been distant lately, but you knew she’d never cheat on you, right?
WARNINGS - dark!natasha, cheating, abuse, slapping
AUTHORS NOTE- reposting this one on this blog as its probably my fave fic i’ve wrote idk
Natasha had been more distant than usual lately, and she always somehow had a different excuse for her absence. They were believable enough for you, her poor wife, to fall for them and so Natasha could get away with her lies. Again. She knew living two lives wasn't ideal, one with you and your two shared kids in your shared family home, the home she would come home to every single nigh for dinner and affection, and the lie she lived whenever she supposedly left for work. You knew that when you accepted her proposal, most of her time would be spent at her company, and you were okay with that, as you were promised her love at the end of the day.
Everything was just perfect only a few weeks ago, but recently, everything had got too much for Natasha. But she loved you, and that was all that mattered, right? You had a simple schedule. Natasha would leave for work and bark orders at you like you were just a house maid, and with your mind fogged up by your love for her, you would comply everytime. The orders were mostly easy. Make dinner, wash the clothes, clean the dishes, raise the kids. That was the one that really got to you.Your kids looked up to Natasha as if she was a god. They loved her to pieces, so they took it very hard when you had to sweetly explain to your two young kids who didn't know any better about how their mama wouldn't be around as much, and comforting them through their soft cries for their mother. That was the worst part. They thought she was an angel that fell from heaven, and it took a heavy toll on you when you realised they blamed everything on you.
Some nights Natasha didn't even come home, and couldn't be bothered to tell you until the morning and leave you on edge and restless all night. And the nights she did, weren't any better. She would join you for dinner with the kids, and entertain them with a softness no one else ever saw. A softness she used to use with you. When she would decide she had enough of her dinner, she'd take the kids to their bedroom and tuck them in. After she'd come and join in once you had washed the dishes, and act like everything was how it was before.
The spark wasn't completely gone, and she took advantage of that. She took advantage of the hold she had over you, and wrapped you around her finger. That was how it always went. Natasha's absence turned you into a new person. Sure, you were still the same person, but were you really? Her harshness changed your appearance over the years, and soon you become unrecognisable. All your friends warned you about Natasha and you ignored them, but now all you wished for was to go back and listen. It isn't like Natasha doesn't love you, she just doesn't how the best ways of showing it, that's all.
So When Natasha started to come home later than usual, your suspicions grew, but you know she loves you, and that's all that matters."I'm gonna be home late again, baby." Natasha confessed one night when you were finishing your dinner after the kids went up. Natasha didn't know how to put it, so she was just straight up. She knew her words would affect you for the worse whichever way she put it, so she didn't stall any longer.
"What? Why?" You knew to expect this. All you wanted to know was why. Surely work couldn't be so important that she had to say overtime almost every single day? But even if something was different, you'd never be able to tell through Natasha's poker face. You were sure Natasha could lie with anything and get away with it. In fact, most of what she'd promised you were probably all lies, but you'd never be able to tell with her. "Carols asked me to stay late again.. something about unfinished paperwork. You know how busy the company gets sometimes. I'm sorry, baby."
You nodded. Her excuses were always something you couldn't say no to, but they were always painfully obvious that it wasn't the full truth: but even if you questioned her on it, she would become fully defensive and shut you out, accuse you of not believing her. "You don't believe your own wife?" She always had a way of making you feel guilty, it was almost like she was made to manipulate you. Maybe she was. Maybe she enjoyed the way you cried yourself to sleep over her, or how your revelled in the pain her harsh words gave you. Maybe it made her feel powerful. Even though Natasha had a way with her words, she would never lay a hand on you. She promised to the grave.
"Oh. Okay." You continued to poke at your food, and Natasha noticed your discomfort. "I'm sorry, babygirl. I know you hate when i have to work late. But you need to understand, without this i wouldn't be able to buy you all the luxuries i know you love." This was what Natasha always did. Guilt-trip you into believing her and bathing in the comfort she gave you. After that night, you knew Natasha was lying about her work. It was painfully obvious, but it wasn't like you would ever act up on it.
The thought of upsetting Natasha was a hard one you hated to think about, for two reasons: firstly, what Natasha would do. The woman didn't take accusations about her lightly, and would do anything and everything to clear her name. And by anything, literally everything. Secondly, you could never dream of leaving Natasha. She provided you with everything a girl could ever need: a lovely home, children, money, all the luxuries and the world, love and comfort.
Natasha could be sweet when she wanted to be, but only to you and the kids. No-one would ever believe you if you told them about the complete different woman Natasha became with her children. They loved her to the moon and back, and more. And that was what hurt. She was their role model, because they only saw one side of her. The confident, strong loving mother, completely different to the one the rest of the world saw. Oh well. They would find out when they were old enough, if she was still even present then.
Again, another night came where you were alone with just the bottle of expensive champagne stored in the back of the cupboard, waiting for Natasha to return. But what you didn't know, was that this would possibly be the worst night of your life so far. But without Natasha by your side and your side only, you didn't know any better. She was the only comfort you had, and the only calloused hand you could hold onto. You had stayed up all night, the alcohol taking effect on you as you cried for your wife.
So when you finally heard her keys jingle in the door, you were happy. Happy that your wife could give you the comfort only she could. But when you heard giggles from a woman you had never met in person but who's voice you knew, you immediately froze. Natasha hushed the woman as she quietly closed the door behind them, and it wasn't long before the woman's hands were around Natasha's neck loosely, pulling her in for a seemingly passionate kiss, which meant absolutely nothing to the red-head. But would you know in your distressed state? Of course not. So there you stood, watching silently from further down the hallway with a straight face as Natasha slipped her tongue into the other woman's mouth.
The woman moaned loudly, and Natasha immediately cursed her out. The former spy followed her instincts and quickly eyed the hallway, freezing when her eyes met your own teary ones. "Baby.." Natasha turned to you, the other woman quickly reciprocating her actions. Natasha's first instinct was to kick the woman out, and that was what she did. With the woman gone, there was nothing else to say. Natasha ran over to you, cradling your small body in her muscular arms that could crush you without a second thought.
"Don't.. don't touch me." You managed to try and whisper out, and get yourself of her embrace. Luckily for you, her grip was surprising loose and it was easier then you expected. You weren't in a mood to fight with her today after what you'd just seen, but you knew you had to. Everything was clear to you now. It was so obvious before, how could you not see through Natasha's act. Before, love clouded your senses for the woman, and now, it was all worse."I thought you loved me."
Natasha gave you a look that made you feel almost stupid and like a child, like it was the most obvious thing in the whole world. Natasha almost felt pity for you. After all these years of marriage, you never thought she could betray you like this. In reality, Natasha could not care less about this, you would always and forever be hers because she was in control. And she will destroy anything in her path for it to stay that way. It's almost funny, really. If anyone were to disrespect or upset you, Natasha would do anything to make the person who hurt you's life a living hell, literally. She could do to the end of the world to protect you, to keep you safe in her grasp.
Maybe that was the problem. Maybe she isn't as safe as you initially thought. Natasha's a hypocrite. All these promises to protect you, when she's the one causing you the most harm. If someone were to bring her up on this, they wouldn't live to see another day. You were Natasha's baby, and she would fight until the end to keep you as hers. To make sure you could never escape.
"Don't be stupid, of course i do, baby. She means absolutely nothing to me. You and i till' the end, doll." Natasha's statement angered you, the way she thought that would make every thing she's done to you better. Her tone of voice made you shiver, but the look ok her face of hoax comfort put you in distress. You were to far gone to think anymore, and Natasha revelled in that.
This was her plan from the start. To pull you so far, just to grab you back so you were good for nothing but her and only her. So from all the pain you received, all you wanted was comfort, and you would welcome her back into your heart with open arms, and you would become one perfect family again. As Natasha had planned, all the distress she caused you out you in a bad mindset, but she never thought it would cause you to lash out. "You make me feel so fucking stupid! Like I'm actually crazy or something!" You ran your hands through your hair, panicking as your breathing rate on died and trashed. Loud sobs escaped your lips as you shook and cried further. Sure, you might've upset her with your words, but you didn't actually realise the extent.
A loud crack invaded the quiet hall, and you didn't feel the harsh sting on your numb cheek until Natasha pulled back. She had slapped you. Hard. Your eyes caught sight of her bloody palms, and the dog in your brain cleared out like a pathway. The pain quickly became more evident as your cheek throbbed and you fell to your knees. Your sobs grew louder as you folded up on the floor, hiding your head between your legs, forgetting about the young children residing upstairs. Your body shook and your limbs ached, but you couldn't think about that.
You couldn't think about anything except Natasha's calloused hands. Red with blood. Your blood. It took a moment to register in your brain Natasha's actions, and what she had promised not to do when your marriage was still pure. Natasha truly didn't mean for it to happen, the anger and rage she felt just got to her head and she couldn't control herself. She crouched down on the wooden floor to join you, gently moving your hands out of your face to stroke your cheek with her deadly ones. She smiled softly in faux concern which you believed in your state of mind. More tears escaped onto your mascara stained cheeks, and all the red-head could do was shush you to be quiet. It didn't work.
Natasha froze when she heard the thuds of small feet making their way down the stairs. She quickly rose to go check on her daughters, cursing you for being so loud. Natasha was already waiting at the bottom step when your youngest daughter appeared. She rubbed her eyes, smiling gleefully when she saw Natasha.
"Mama!" Natasha immediately picked the little girl up, placing a small kiss on her face as she giggled. She rocked the young girl in her arms, sighing as she heard you go completely silently, hugging her daughter closer. "I'm sorry, baby. Did we wake you?"
The little girl nodded, and Natasha frowned. This wasn't a part of her plan. She didn't know how your little family would recover from here, but she knew it would. Well, it was her choice, you had no say in it. Really, all she wanted was the best for your little girls, and she knew she was the only one who could give them that. The stress of being a single parent would be too much for you, and she would never dare to leave you. Everything would be perfect in her mind. She would have you safe, just how she wanted you.
"Is mommy okay?" The little girl babbled, and Natasha smiled. "Mommy will be okay, baby. She's just a little upset right now," she continued to rock the young girl in her arms, humming a familiar lullaby to her daughter which made her smile a toothy grin. "Right, it's time you get back to bed, isn't it little love? Want me to tuck you in?" The girl babbled in Natasha's arms, and the former spy held her closer. "Good girl, Cmon let's get you back to bed."
Once Natasha had her daughter back in bed and safe, she could refocus her attention back on you. She quietly made her way back down the stairs, unsurprised to see you still in the exact same position from where she left you. She crouched back down, seeing the dried tear stains on your link cheeks nearly made her cold heart break. Natasha used little effort to pick you up and rest you in her arms bridal style, carrying you up to your shared bedroom. She closed the door gently behind you, letting go when she heard the soft click of the lock. She rested you on the bed and you complied, too far gone to fight back.
No words had been said since she took you up to bed, but she wasn't complaining. She didn't need any added stress. Natasha left you on the bed to go brush her teeth, and when she looked up in the mirror, a sadist grin was resting on her face. It wasn't that she was happy that she hurt you, it was just that she finally had you where she wanted you. And now she could give you what you wanted to her full potential, you just had to let her in.
#natasha romanoff smut#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff#natasha marvel#dark!natasha x reader#dark!natasha romanoff x reader#carol danvers x reader#carol danvers smut#captain marvel x reader#jock!carol#captain marvel#carol danvers#yelena belova#marvel#wanda maximoff smut#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff#dark!wandanat x reader#dark!wanda maximoff
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The Last of the Marvels
#it’s kinda on point that Mar Vell will always be that one man she can’t get over#but there was that whole weird thing with Michael Rossi#so weird how that was handled#dark mar vell#captain marvel#carol danvers#marvel comics#marvel comic art#comic art#comics#comic books#comic book art#comic panels#comic book panels
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