#lesbian carol danvers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

widowsofchaos · 2 months

Note

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 𝐭𝐨 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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skyler10fic · 4 months

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Seasons Meetings

By Skyler10

Summary: Daisy brings her new girlfriend home to meet her parents, and Phil and Melinda are thrilled.

A/N: Wrote this on the plane home alone to a less accepting family and edited on the flight back, so I hope this helps all of us who have parents who wouldn't react in this welcoming of a way. *hugs

Read on Ao3

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Melinda May was in awe looking back at her past holiday family photos. She’d aged, despite her husband’s protests to the contrary. He had too, but gracefully, carrying the wisdom and laugh lines of experience, complimenting his gentle kindness. Their tiny baby transformed through each photo—first into a delightful and hyperactive little girl, then to an adorkable preteen, then to a depressed teenager with long hair dyed even blacker than her natural dark brown and with matching nails and thick eyeliner. She smiled, but it barely covered the truth. Those were rough years for them all.

But the photo tradition had continued. The longer Daisy was in college, the more she bloomed. She matured into a radiant young adult, if self-deprecating and with still a bit of that old insecurity when she ran into old classmates when home for the holidays. Former teachers and senseis and parents of friends asked every time when she was going to bring home a boyfriend, how she could possibly still be single, and didn’t she want to give her parents grandchildren?

Melinda always redirected the conversation, with a protective arm around her daughter’s shoulders. Both Melinda and Phil were quick to reassure Daisy that they were proud of her regardless of her relationship status or whether she ever had children. Daisy was grateful but said no more on the subject. She mentioned boyfriends here and there, and a girl or two, but none made it to Christmas or to meeting her parents. Melinda and Phil worried that Daisy's teen years were still haunting her all these years later.

In Daisy’s senior year of high school, she came out as bi to her parents in a tearful outpouring of secrets at the lowest point of her depression, but it proved to be a turning point. To Phil and Melinda, it was also a relief as it answered so many questions. It wasn’t just her ADHD, the high expectations on her as a tech genius, and the stress of moving away to college soon. She’d had her heart broken a year earlier by a girl who wasn’t ready to be out and denied they had ever had anything between them. The girl's friends shamed and bullied Daisy for months, but eased up over the summer and the fall semester. But as pressure mounted in the spring before graduation, Phil and Melinda found Daisy in her room crying so hard that dark streaks of mascara stained Phil’s shirt as he pulled her close. She’d been photographed flirting with another girl, and the photo had made its way around social media with meme text about sin and “confusion” in “our schools,” with the cyberbullying perpetuated by the girl from the previous year who had now joined an evangelical youth group.

No one could blame Daisy for staying away after high school graduation. She spent her summer breaks in impressive internships until one of those internships turned into a job at the end of those four years. But through university and now as a working professional, she always came home for Christmas.

This year, however, she wouldn’t be coming alone. She said she had a special guest, but she wanted it to be a surprise.

Melinda and Phil lit up when they saw their precious girl appear from the airport terminal. But the bombshell blonde with her made their smiles even bigger. The blonde caught Daisy’s scarf as it fell off and they stopped so she could wrap it back around Daisy’s neck. Daisy pecked a kiss to the blonde’s cheek and took her hand.

“Mystery solved then,” Phil quipped to Melinda. Melinda sent him an amused look of agreement before they waved to catch Daisy's attention.

After reunion hugs were exchanged, Daisy introduced them to the blonde who was politely waiting behind her.

“Okay, don't be weird,” Daisy warned, “but this is my girlfriend, Carol Danvers. Surprise! Carol, this is my mom and dad.”

Daisy's nervous smile told Melinda all she needed to know. Daisy was in love. This was no mere holiday invite because Carol didn't have plans. This was an official Meeting of the Parents.

“Wow, girlfriend, huh?” Phil stuck out his hand to shake Carol's. “I'm Phil.”

“We're so glad to meet you.” Melinda shook her hand next. “I'm Melinda.”

With this warm welcome, they walked together to the baggage claim.

“So this is the mysterious Carol,” Melinda began. “We've heard you've been spending time together…”

“… But we didn't know about the girlfriend part,” Phil finished.

Carol turned to Daisy in hesitation, “Wait, did they know before now that you're—”

“Oh! Yes.” “Old news.” “Yes!” The three hurried to answer.

“Just not that you two specifically were together in that way,” Phil explained his comment. “Carol, we can't wait to get to know you. We're really excited you're here.” Phil tried to rein in his enthusiasm to not embarrass Daisy, but Daisy and Melinda laughed at how obvious it was. Carol didn't, though. She seemed to relax.

“Thank you,” she said simply. Carol didn't hide it as well as Melinda did herself, but this girl clearly had some armor up. Melinda made it her mission to help Carol see her defenses were unnecessary here and that she was genuinely welcome.

“We weren't sure who this surprise guest would be so we made up the guest room,” Melinda explained. “But if you'd both be more comfortable staying in Daisy's room, that's fine too. Her bed is big enough for two.”

There, that was obviously supportive.

“Mom!!” Daisy groaned and blushed.

Phil shrugged. “This is our first time doing this. We don't know what you want.”

“Okayyyy,” Daisy turned to Carol, “now you see why I wanted it to be a surprise.”

Carol smiled at Daisy's childish embarrassment. “I think that's very kind. I'm okay with sharing if Daisy is.”

Daisy nodded and relaxed at how well this was going so far despite her anxieties, and Carol continued.

“Daisy told me it's the first time she's brought anyone home to meet you two. And she told me about all your Christmas traditions.”

Phil offered, “Do you have any of your family's that you would want to do while you're here, Carol? And are they okay with you being with us instead of with them this year?”

Carol exhaled heavily and looked to the still-quiet baggage carousel. “Yeah, they … will be fine.”

Daisy filled in, “Carol and her parents don't really get along.”

Ah.

Phil and Melinda nodded in understanding, and Phil offered, “Well, you're always welcome with us.”

He wanted to hug Carol, Melinda could tell, but the bags started to arrive. He was always finding young people in need of a mentor or father figure and helping them believe in themselves, whatever path lay ahead of them.

With their luggage acquired, they were ready to start their holiday. The four ventured out of the airport for a first Christmas together that they would each treasure for the rest of their lives, despite all of the awkward moments and hard conversations—and the heartbreaking realization that Carol had been worried about Phil and Melinda’s reaction to Daisy bringing home a woman. But Carol's courage and love had shown through, even in that misplaced fear, by being willing to come home with Daisy anyway. Which, of course, only endeared her to them more.

Even that same Christmas, after dropping the two young lovebirds back at the airport, Phil and Melinda mentioned it as soon as they were alone in the SUV. There was mutual agreement that this was The One for Daisy, but also that Carol clearly felt the same. She was the only person who could be worthy of their daughter, from the way Carol adored Daisy to the way she always looked out for Daisy's best, from that scarf in the first moment they saw her to handling Daisy's luggage with care when unloading at the dropoff on the way back.

“That girl’s going to be our daughter-in-law someday,” Melinda had remarked as they watched Carol disappear with Daisy through the airport sliding doors.

“You okay with that?” Phil asked just to be sure.

“Definitely. And you know I wouldn't say that about anybody else.” Melinda raised an eyebrow pointedly. “You?”

“Me too.” Phil smiled and pulled the SUV away from the curb and into an opening in the airport traffic. “One week and we already feel like a family of four.”

“People always asked me if we'd regret not having more kids,” Melinda confessed. “But I think this was the one we were waiting for. Not a sister for Daisy but a wife.”

Phil recounted this story as the father of the bride a year and a half later, in their wedding toast.

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sapphicfanfics · 6 months

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Hello! This is an alt account where I will be posting fanfics!

#carol danvers #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers x y/n #lesbian carol danvers #carol x brunhilde #valcarol #the marvels #the marvels 2023

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blackhiil · 2 years

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BLACKHILL BAND AU: that’s the beauty of a secret (you know you’re supposed to keep it)

PART ONE

E! News: It’s no secret that Lesbian Fury and Russian Roulette are dominating the charts right now and currently fighting for the number one spot. Here’s everything we know about the two bands.

Lesbian Fury composed of Maria Hill, Maria Rambeau and Carol Danvers are signed to SHIELD Entertainment. The 3 women are very open in their sexualities as lesbians and many fans have spoken about how seeing the 3 in mainstream media has helped them be comfortable in themselves.

Carol Danvers (aka Captain Carol) and Maria Rambeau (aka Phonton Maria) have been in a relationship for 10 years. The two women — who were friends long before they were together —have been married for 7 years. The couple is often seen with their daughter Monica Rambeau-Danvers. Carol recently admitted in an interview that Still Into You was written as an anniversary present for her wife.

“It was a spur of the moment song. I had just been thinking of how we were nearing our 10 year anniversary and Maria never fails to give me butterflies, even now. So, I went to Maria [Hill] who helped me finish writing and producing.”

Speaking of Maria Hill, the lead singer, she told Vogue she is married to a mystery woman. Maria often speaks of her wife in interviews so this isn’t anything new; however she said the songs Strange Love and Trouble were written about her wife. We all hope one day we will see the woman who managed to capture the singers heart.

“Strange Love was written about my wife . There was a party we were at and people were wondering if we had hooked up in the bathroom and I don’t mean to be crass, but we totally did. So whoever bet on it, because I know they did, they always do, you’re gonna get your money. During this time, people were also constantly talking about my love life and calling my wife strange and weird and I was sick of it because it’s none of their business and she’s perfect how she is. Thus, Strange Love was created.”

Russian Roulette composed of sisters Natasha Romanoff and Yelena Belova, and Sokovian native Wanda Maximoff are signed to Avengers Inc. These 3 queer women (Natasha is a lesbian, Wanda is pansexual, and Yelena is an asexual lesbian) recently opened up in a Vanity Fair interview about how they became comfortable in their identities and fans loved it.

In this interview, fans found out more about Yelena and Wanda’s relationship. The two have been in a loving relationship for 5 years and recently got engaged. Yelena admitted that the song Everything I Wanted was especially written for Wanda as an engagement gift.

“I had this recurring this dream — it was a nightmare really— that Wanda would one day leave me. Her leaving was a thought that was always in the back of my head, especially after I came out as asexual. However, the reality was completely different. Wanda was so accepting of it and even did research to get a better understanding of what asexuality was and how to navigate our relationship. I just wanted to show her my love and appreciation toward her, so I put it in a song.”

Onto the redhead Lead Singer Natasha (or Natalia as Yelena calls her). Natasha admitted that she’s been married for since 2013 to a mystery woman. When asked about her wife, Natasha just said her wife loves her very much and she’s always happy around her. She even opened up about Cinnamon Girl, a song Natasha previously refused to open up about in many interviews.

“Cinnamon Girl is actually a song my wife and I wrote together. We had been together about 5 months and I was still healing from a very bad relationship that I had 2 years prior. At the time, she didn’t know many details of that relationship, just how it affected me, but she was so patient and loving and it was new to me. I didn’t know how to express my feelings, so I wrote them in a song which she heard me playing. I opened up to her that night and a few days later, she helped me finish it.”

Fans of LF and RR have suspected that Maria [Hill] and Natasha are each other’s secret wives because of the secrecy of their relationships. However, the two women have never even interacted online, so we may never know if they’re together or not.

————————————————————————

Lesbian Fury Tracklist: Strange Love; Halsey The Shining; The Neighborhood Still Into You; Paramore Trouble; Twin Heat Waves; Glass Animals Make Up Your Mind; Florence + Machine Haunting; Halsey Don’t Blame Me; Taylor Swift Sweater Weather; The Neighborhood

Russian Roulette Tracklist: Coming Down; Halsey Sober II (Melodrama); Lorde Everything I Wanted; Billie Eilish Cinnamon Girl; Lana Del Rey Flaming Hot Cheetos; Clairo Love in the Dark; Adele Sorry; Halsey Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince; Taylor Swift Supercut; Lorde ————————————————————————

Very excited for this series, mainly because it is apart of my blackhill bingo, but also, this idea is so fun. It’s going to be a social media au but also have little stories. Wanda x Yelena is a ship I really enjoy, therefore they’ll be together. If you have anything to say about that, well don’t! cause this is my page and I can write whatever I want. That being said, I really hope you guys have fun with this <3

This will have its own tag; TTBOAS so it’s easier for you guys to find it.

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headcanonsfromavengerstower · 2 years

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No lesbian Carol yet? Odd… -Trash Apple

(Credit me if you use.)

#anon ask #anon request #my icons #lesbian marvel headcanons #lesbian carol danvers

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rhfffas · 6 months

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same energy

#goose the cat #the marvels #captain marvel #carol danvers #cats #cat #brie larson #lgbt #lesbian #queer #wlw #lgbtqia #gay #sapphic #lesbian culture #500 #1k #2k

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morgangalaxy43 · 13 days

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Saying that Maria Hill and Carol Danvers aren’t lesbians is like saying water isn’t wet

#maria hill #lesbian maria hill #blackhill #carol danvers #lesbian carol danvers #danbeau #valcarol #marvel

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cha0ticlesbian · 4 days

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Happy lesbian visibility week to my favorite lesbians ❤️🧡🤍🩷💜

Carol Danvers -Mcu

(Not canon)

Robin Buckley -Stranger Things

(Canon)

Charlie Bradbury -Supernatural

(Canon)

Quinni Gallagher-Jones -Heartbreak High

(Canon)

Vanessa Shelly/Afton -Fnaf movie

(Not canon)

Chloe Price -life is strange

(Canon)

Pamela Isley -dc

(Semi canon)

(Depends on media)

Alcina Dimitrescu -resident evil

(Canon)

Greta Gill and Carson Shaw -a league of their own

(Canon)

#lesbian #lesbian visibility week #wlw #lesbian carol danvers #carol danvers #robin buckley #charlie bradbury #quinni gallagher jones #quinni heartbreak high #vanessa shelly #vanessa afton #chloe price #pamela isley #poison ivy #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #carson shaw #greta gill #a league of their own

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vee-nyx · 6 months

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i just want to thank whoever decided that this ridiculous hat should be the lesbian colors:

carol danvers lesbian truthers we officially have friends on the inside

#WE WON #i was giggling in the theater yall #pulling up to the planet ur technically a princess of but u gotta remind everyone ur gay #the marvels #lesbian #carol danvers #brie larson #captain marvel #monica rambeau #teyonah parris #kamala khan #iman vellani #ms marvel #mcu #valcarol #teehee

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fockingstedebonnet · 6 months

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Carol Danvers + lesbian tropes

1. She’s a “crazy cat lady” and all crazy cat ladies are lesbians. That’s just a fact. Come on, she literally lives alone with a cat (and probably a ton more cats by the end of the movie).

2. She’s in a marriage of convenience with a man, and historically many lesbians have been in marriages of convenience with men for reasons of safety, survival, and so forth.

3. She wears Crocs, and unfortunately many lesbians are obsessed (for reasons completely unknown to me. 🤢) with that particular type of footwear.

4. She helped raise a child with her “best friend” (*cue “historians think they were really good friends” quote here*) and keeps pictures of said woman and her child literally everywhere.

5. She gives basically every woman she ever encounters that deep, almost pained look of lesbian longing.

6. She can work the hell out of a tank top.

Please feel free to add more! 🤣

#carol danvers #brie larson #captain marvel #the marvels #mcu #lesbian #lesbians #women of marvel #wlw #marvel #lgbtq+#the marvels spoilers

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skyler10fic · 4 months

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Jezebel is back and more correct than ever

#carol danvers #lesbian carol danvers #dare I even say sapphic a-spec carol danvers?#captain marvel #the marvels

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blackhiil · 1 year

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Strange Love

summary: blackhill as rockstars (ft. danbeau and wanda/yelena)

warning(s): none

written for blackhill bingo: free square

lesbian fury interview with vogue

You’re married?

MH: Yes, I’ve been married for almost 10 years now and no, I’m telling anyone her name.

Do you like her wife? Without revealing any details about her, what is she like?

CD: She’s a pain in the ass. [laughs] But, I love her; she’s like a little sister to me.

MR: Maria’s wife is great. She’s a troublemaker like Carol here, so it’s chaos when they’re together. I don’t know how Maria and I put up with them.

CD: We aren’t that bad!

MH: You once pranked the entire studio with glitter and confetti. The confetti was easy to get up, but the mic was sparkly for 3 months!

In one interview, Carol said she writes songs about Maria [Rambeau] and vice versa. Which songs were written about who?

CD: Still Into You. It was a spur of the moment song. I had just been thinking of how we were nearing our 10 year anniversary and Maria never fails to give me butterflies, even now. So, I went to Maria [Hill] who helped me finish writing and producing. After she finished laughing at me.

MH: You were shaking like a chihuahua and you were so nervous. I should’ve taken a picture.

CD: It’s not funny, Hill. I hadn’t been that nervous since my wedding day.

MH: It was a great song, you should be thanking me.

MR: Anyway, The Shining, the 3rd song on our new album, was written for Carol. Maria’s wife actually helped me with it. She even helped compose parts of the song.

MH: She did? She never told me that.

Maria [Hill] have you written any songs about your wife?

MH: I’ve written a lot of songs about my wife, she’s my muse after all, but our recent song Trouble is about her.

Why did you name it Trouble?

MH: No real reason, I just happened to enjoy the title and like Maria [Rambeau] said she is a troublemaker.

Your 4th album Fury of the Gods is currently doing well on the charts? Trouble is number 2 and The Shining is number 4. How does that feel?

MR: It feels amazing. This isn’t our first album to do well, but so much goes into them that we appreciate everything our fans do to make them do that well.

Your 2nd tour starts soon, is it going to be international or only domestic?

CD: It’s going to be international. We’re going to start in Maria [Rambeau] and I’s home town of Louisiana and end in Maria’s hometown of Chicago.

What can fans expect from the tour? Any surprises or new music?

MH: Both. I have a big surprise planned at the end of the tour.

Could you elaborate?

MH: Nope.

MR: [laughing] You’re not going to get anything out of her. She’s like a vault.

Your fans have often stated that you 3 are lesbian icons and being in mainstream media has helped them be comfortable with themselves. How does it feel to know that?

MR: There weren’t many people who looked like me in the media, let alone were lesbians too. When I get letters from fans and or meet them, they always thank me for making them feel seen, and I realize I’m the role model I never had.

CD: When I grew up, there weren’t any lesbians to look up too, so I’m happy to be the person I never had.

MH: Like Carol said, she’s happy to the person she never had and so am I. I didn’t grow up with a supportive family, so if I can be one person’s support system, then I’ll be that.

russian roulette interview with vanity fair

When you hear the phrase ‘Russian Roulette’ you may think of the deadly game played with a gun; but if you’re a music fan you think of the Eastern European band. The band composed of Russian sisters Natalia ‘Natasha’ Romanoff and Yelena Belova, and Sokovian native Wanda Maximoff are signed to Avengers Inc. These 3 queer women (Natasha is a lesbian, Wanda is pansexual, and Yelena is an asexual lesbian) dropped their 3rd album Melodrama on Friday and fans are obsessed.

Band Members Wanda Maximoff and Yelena Belova are in a relationship and have been for 5 years. The couple recently got engaged. Natasha’s relationship status is unknown.

“So, Wanda, Yelena, who proposed to who?”

WM: Yelena actually proposed with an acoustic version of Everything I Wanted. This was before anyone aside from her and Natasha had heard it, so I was shocked to say the least. [laughs] I cried like a baby.

That sounds beautiful. Yelena, what was the inspiration behind the song?

YB: I had this recurring dream — it was a nightmare really — that Wanda would one day leave me. Her leaving was a thought that was always in the back of my head, especially after I came out as asexual. However, the reality was completely different. Wanda was so accepting of it and even did research to get a better understanding of what asexuality was and how to navigate our relationship. The song was an expression of how I had been feeling at the time.

Natasha, the song Cinnamon Girl is on this album. In previous interviews, you said the song would remain unreleased. What changed your mind?

NR: It felt right. I was finally ready to let it go and share it with the world.

What was the inspiration behind the song?

NR: When I wrote Cinnamon Girl, I was healing from a bad relationship that had happened 2 years prior. I had also been in a relationship for 5 months with the woman I’m currently married to. At the time, she didn't know many details of that relationship, just how it affected me, but she was so patient and loving and it was new to me. I didn't know how to express my feelings, so I wrote them in a song which she heard me playing. I opened up to her that night and a few days later, she helped me finish it.

How long have you been married?

NR: Since 2013, and that’s all I’m saying on the matter.

Natasha, Lesbian Fury singer Maria Hill recently revealed she’s married. Many fans have speculated that since you run in the same

circles, that you’re her wife. What do you have to say to that?

NR: My wife’s gonna be pissed. [laughs] However, I will say that Maria Hill would be lucky to have me as her wife.

Melodrama came out Friday and so far the top 3 favorites from fans have been Sober II, Sorry, and Love in the Dark. What are your favorites from the album?

YB: Coming Down. I rarely say this because she gets a big head about it, but Natasha is an excellent song writer and Coming Down is some of her best work. Which isn’t surprising considering she wrote it about her wife and Natalia always writes the best songs about her.

NR: That is the nicest thing you’ve said about me all week.

WM: Supercut. I just love it. And I think it’s beautiful. I’m actually the one who picked it for the album because it’s my favorite.

NR: Simple, Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince.

Can we expect a tour soon?

YB: You’ll just have to wait and see.

Your fans have talked about how you’re all so inspiring to them and how being unapologetically yourselves has helped them; what do you have to say to that?

WM: Honestly, if we can help even one person feel like themselves, then it’s worth it. I love knowing that our music and personalities help others.

YB: When I was figuring out my sexuality, Natasha was the only one who knew and even then, I was scared to tell her. She helped me come to terms with myself and if I happen to be the person that they need, then I’ll be that.

NR: Everyone needs someone and if we’re not able to reply to all the fans, or see them in person; knowing that we’re able to reach all of them is everything I’ve dreamed of.

natasha and maria’s house; location unknown

Maria walked into her and Natasha’s house exhausted. She loved her job but it could be tiring with all the press and media. It’s even worse because she can’t be seen with Nat out in public so they haven’t been able to have much time together even though they were at the same place at the same time. She left her suitcase by the door, she’d get it later. Right now, she just wants to be with her wife while she can.

”Nat, you home?” she called out into the quiet house. Natasha was supposed to be home before she was.

“Upstairs!” Natasha called back. Maria ran up the stairs, taking two at a time. She finally got to their room and saw Natasha lying on the bed watching a movie.

“Mia!” Nat exclaimed when Maria jumped on her. “I haven’t seen you in almost 2 months, you’ll be okay.” Maria mumbled against her neck. Natasha smiled softly and ran her fingers through dark locks. “I missed you too.”

“C’mon, I have a surprise for you.” Natasha said after a few minutes. Maria sat up and allowed Nat to get up. Natasha held out her hand for Maria to take and led her to the bathroom. There was a bubble bath drawn and Maria’s favorite candle was lit. “We haven’t had any us time and I thought this would be perfect.” Natasha smiled sweetly. They took their clothes off and Maria got in first and Nat said in her lap.

“I love you. And I feel like without our jobs we don’t see each other enough, so I don’t get to say it in person as much as I want to; but I love you with all my heart.” Maria whispered to Nat. Natasha blushed, a soft smile on her face. “I love you too and I’ve been thinking…I want to announce our relationship. Our 10 year anniversary is coming up and I think it’d be perfect.” Natasha was kind of nervous about Maria’s reaction. When they decided to go to their respective bands, they made the decision to not talk about their relationship for privacy reasons. Now, they don’t really care. They have such little privacy already being celebrities, the only difference is, they’d actually be able to be seen together.

“I think we should and I have the perfect idea. Maria, Carol, and I have been working on a song and we wanted a feature on it. I think you’d be perfect for it, especially because I wrote it about you. We’re going to perform it for the first time at the end of our tour, which would give us more than enough time to get everything set. What do you say?” Maria explained. She had been thinking about this for a while and couldn’t decide how to bring up the topic to Natasha and was happy she was able to do it in person.

Natasha turned a little so she was facing Maria. “I think it’s perfect. The fans aren’t gonna know what hit them.” She smiled before giving Maria a kiss.

Tonight, they would enjoy the peace and quiet they had right now as a couple cause in 2 months, that peace and quiet would be gone.

#blackhill #blackhillbingo22 #blackhill bingo #maria hill #natasha romanoff #maria x natasha #lesbian maria hill #lesbian natasha romanoff #marvel wlw #martasha #wlw #band au #ttboas #lesbian maria rambeau #lesbian carol danvers #lesbian yelena belova #pansexual wanda maximoff #wanda x yelena #carolmaria

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