#nothing i enjoy more than a person who is INSISTENT that you can “train yourself” out of severe allergies to food and that drinking tap

[brightokyolights]

.

[kissofthemis]

hii! can I request the nxx boys with a reader who used to be in an abusive relationship (now an ex) and an example situation when one of the boys raises a hand the reader thinks their going to git them so they flinch or when the boys cook the reader a table full of food the reader starts to sob because they're not used to eating in big amounts (ik I have that problem) all separate pls c:

srry if it's a bit too much u don't have to accept the request!

Hi friend! Sorry for the wait! This type of request is not a problem for me, but I will put it under a "read more" to be safe!

TW abuse mention; implied abuse; PTSD

❤️ Artem ❤️

Your first instinct upon seeing all the delicious dishes that Artem placed on the table was for your mouth to start watering.

Your second instinct was to consciously shut down that response before Artem could notice, and you managed to cut it off before even a drop of saliva could escape your lips.

You'd trained yourself how to do that in your last relationship, a long time ago.

When Artem finally sat down to join you, you didn't make eye contact with him. You just dipped your head politely and began to eat from the plate he had placed in front of you. If you avoided looking at the other dishes he'd placed on the table, from colorful grilled vegetables to aromatic jasmine rice, then you wouldn't crave them as much.

Artem needed more food than you anyway. He was larger, smarter, busier. He needed the energy, and you should be grateful he whipped up a plate for you at all.

That was what you had learned a long time ago. To be grateful for what you had and not to beg for what you didn't deserve.

Perhaps you ate too quickly, however, because your plate was empty within minutes. You sat quietly, waiting to see if Artem would stir up conversation. (He wasn't a highly talkative person, so you were equally content with sipping from your water glass in silence.)

Finally he spoke, and nothing could have prepared you for the concerned murmur of, "If you're still hungry, you can take more. Everything here is for us to share."

"... Huh?"

Now you couldn't help yourself from gawking at him, wide-eyed and perplexed. "N-no, I'm fine. You already made me a plate!"

Artem pensively prodded at a pepper. "Only to start you off," he explained. "I wasn't sure what your favorite foods are, or what you would enjoy most, so I gave you a little bit of everything and decided to put the rest here in their original dishes so you could decide on your own what you wanted to eat." His brow knitted in consternation as he added, the worry in his tone subtle but unmistakable, "Did you think that was all I would let you eat?"

The worry on his face dramatically increased in mere seconds. He nearly jumped out of his seat as he leaned over with a napkin to dab at your eyes. "You're crying. Are you crying?"

Clearly he hadn't expected this reaction from you, and honestly, you hadn't expected to react this way either. The only person more confused than him right now was you. All of this? For you to eat as you please? Any dish, any amount?

"I... You... You're so kind, Artem," was all you could manage to mumble out between your tears.

"I'm nothing special," he insisted, his deep ocean gaze gentle but firm. "I care about you. A lot. So please... eat up and take care of yourself, alright?"

~♡~♡~♡~♡~

💛 Luke 💛

"Luke, we're going to be late!"

Running on the same wavelength as the brunet sometimes did more harm than good. You had both arrived way too early for the escape room that you planned to do today with some friends, so you had camped out underneath a shady tree and watched ducks floating by on the lake.

Who knew counting ducks could make you fall asleep just like sheep?

"It's like a 5 minute walk! The building is right there!" Luke protested, but even his amused grin couldn't hide the hint of concern in his voice. "That's nothing for me!"

"Okay, then you will be on time, but I don't follow the Luke Pearce cardio regimen!" you whined. "And if you leave me in the dust, I'll never forgive you!"

You knew he wouldn't run off without you, so your "threat" was mostly in jest, but the fear that flickered across his eyes almost made you feel guilty.

Almost, but not guilty enough to stop you from sprinting ahead.

"Wait, wait!" Luke cried out suddenly as you began to dart off without him.

His words stopped you in your tracks, and you spun around as fast as you could to turn back towards him.

The heat coursing through your adrenaline-pumped veins immediately froze as a large hand came flying towards your face.

No. No! I messed up! I'm sorry!

With a shriek, you dropped to the ground, arms raised defensively above your head.

I took it too far. I wasn't funny. He's mad. He's mad he's mad he's mad and I deserve this. I deserve this.

Cowering on the ground with your eyes squeezed tightly shut, you braced yourself for impact. Maybe it'd be a smack, maybe a slap, maybe a punch. You weren't sure, but you knew it was coming.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

... why wasn't it coming?

Hesitantly you opened one eye, expecting to see rage ablaze in Luke's passionate coral eyes.

But instead you saw pure fear on his face, as his skin had gone white as a sheet and his hands pulled in close to his chest, shaking.

"Did I... scare you?" he asked carefully, his voice hoarse.

Why was he afraid? Wasn't he mad? Wasn't he...

Maybe your gut reaction was... wrong?

"I'm sorry," you whispered, and you slowly lowered your arms.

Luke looked as though he wanted to step forward, but he held himself back so as to avoid startling you. "You had a leaf in your hair," was all he said. "I wanted to get it out."

"I'm sorry," you repeated. You felt like a broken record, but as shaken as you still were, what else could you say?

Luke lowered himself onto one knee and tentatively reached a hand towards you, like he were coaxing a small animal. He seemed relieved as you inched a little closer to him.

When you finally got close enough for him to remove the leaf, he instead pulled you into his arms.

"Who do I need to kill, [Y/N]?"

"Luke, no."

~♡~♡~♡~♡~

💜 Marius 💜

You tried to keep your eyes off the clock, but the more time that passed, the more difficult that became.

While you had no doubt that Marius von Hagen, of all people, could easily get another reservation at a high-end restaurant, you knew he had been looking forward to taking you to this particular spot for weeks now. But luck had not been on his side this week, as Pax was swamped from left to right with deals to close and disputes to settle. Marius had been sleeping even less than usual; he wouldn't admit it to you, but even if he covered the bags under his eyes with makeup and chugged coffees, you could see the fatigue in the way his eyes had lost a lot of sparkle.

You loved the mischievous gleams and artistic sparks in his eyes, and if this date was only going to cause him more stress...

"Hey, Mar--"

"You will see me at 2:00 tomorrow, or you will find another buyer! Capice?"

Everything else in the room melted away all at once. The clock. Vincent's apologetic face. The Pax sign behind the desk. The huge windows revealing the sunset. All of it, all of it faded into oblivion as soon as that deep, loud, angry voice hit your ears.

Like a thunderstorm had let loose a ferocious flash of lightning and deafening clap of thunder just above your head, all your senses kicked into high gear to focus on one thing:

Stay alive. Stay alive. Get low, get quiet, stay alive.

You weren't sure when Marius hung up the phone. You weren't sure when Marius walked over to you. You weren't even sure where you were.

Perhaps it was for the best that you couldn't see what Marius saw right now: the person he loved most in the world, crouching behind a couch with hands clapped over their ears, eyes squeezed tightly shut, and murmuring quietly and rapidly in an effort to stay grounded.

Marius von Hagen had money, power, and influence beyond what most people could dream, but even he couldn't stop a trauma response in its tracks.

You flinched as you felt a large weight drop on top of your head, but slowly you unclenched your jaw as you realized it was a large but gentle hand, stroking your hair rhythmically.

You dared to open your eyes, slowly fluttering your eyelids open until Marius' concerned, exhausted face came into clear view.

"I'm sorry I yelled," he murmured.

You shook your head, and as you pulled your hands away from your ears, you tried to reach out and pat him on the shoulder. But your hands were still shaking, and you cursed yourself silently as you realized you wouldn't be able to comfort him like this. "You've been under a lot of stress."

Marius let out a low, self-deprecating chuckle. "That's no excuse. I can't fulfill my very important role if I lose my cool like that."

"The President of Pax isn't allowed to get upset?"

Marius snorted. "Not that role. Nobody cares about me as president, anyway. I mean as your lover."

Before you could even fully process his words and tell him how touching and sincere they were, Marius gently flicked your forehead.

"Besides, I'll be less stressed now that I called off the deal with that old curmudgeon. Ready for dinner, babe?"

~♡~♡~♡~♡~

💚 Vyn 💚

Stealth. Stealth. You were the embodiment of stealth.

Phase 1 had been easy. Since you were staying in Vyn's guest room tonight as he had to get up early (or at least attempt to) tomorrow, he hadn't noticed you tip-toeing out at midnight. That room was around the corner from his own bedroom, after all, and his closed door meant he couldn't see you sneak over to the stairs.

Phase 2 had been a little more challenging: the stairs themselves. In order to avoid any creaking that could give you away, you had decided to crawl along the side and test each step to figure out where the sturdiest part was. (You had also made a mental note to inform Vyn that the third step from the bottom definitely needed to be repaired, because it squeaked like a rusty hinge.)

Phase 3 was almost complete and going off without a hitch. You had just turned the corner into his kitchen, and now the refrigerator door was in plain sight. The hardwood was a bit of a pain compared to sneaking around on carpet, but your socks should be sufficiently muffled on the kitchen tile. You inhaled deeply and gave your stomach a reassuring pat.

'Soon. Soon we will be appeased.'

Gingerly you stepped across the tile, gently you opened the door, and with a victorious smile, you inspected the glowing contents of Vyn's refrigerator.

Jackpot!

As you debated whether to grab yogurt, cheese, or some celery to scoop up peanut butter, a low voice sounded behind you.

"If you want a midnight snack, might I recommend something low sugar so that you can fall asleep shortly after?"

You nearly screeched as you slammed the door shut and whirled around with your back pressed against its cold metal surface. Suppressing a whimper, you raised your arms defensively in front of your abdomen and face as you looked up to an amused pair of glimmering golden eyes.

"I... I'll go back to bed. I'm sorry. I didn't..."

Excuses swarmed your head like a mess of bees, but you doubted any of them would spare you from your inevitable fate.

They had never saved you in the past, after all.

"Please don't be mad...."

You regretted the words as soon as they came out of your mouth. That would just make Vyn angrier! You couldn't bear to look at him, so you turned your head away and held your breath as you waited for his response.

"Why would I be mad?"

Surprised by these words and how genuine they sounded, you dared to take a peek at Vyn. He didn't even look sleepy as he gazed at you with knitted brow and a fretful frown on his pale face. "If anything, I'm... disappointed." He sighed softly and extended a hand to you. "Let me help you up, darling."

You weren't sure your quivering legs would support you even with Vyn's help, so you kept one hand on the refrigerator door as Vyn helped you to your feet. "Disappointed?" you echoed, unable to quash your curiosity.

"Of course. I am, after all, an excellent pastry chef, if I do say so myself." His gaze softened as he guided you slowly to one of the seats behind the kitchen counter. "The thought that you'd rather snack on cheese instead of a fresh tiramisu, matcha tart, or mille-feuille... well, that is quite the blow to my self-esteem."

Was he... trying to lighten the mood? You couldn't be sure if he was serious or joking. "I... shouldn't be hungry. You gave me plenty to eat."

Vyn didn't seem bothered by that. "No 'should' or 'shouldn't' applies here. You are hungry, and I simply cannot allow that." He chuckled and opened the refrigerator, tutting softly as he reviewed its contents. "I'll have to regretfully inform you I am low on eggs, but perhaps next time I can make you a crème brulée."

As relief flooded over you, you allowed yourself to smile. "... I don't think I trust you with a torch at this hour, anyway."

Vyn drummed his fingers against the counter. "Harsh, but understandable." He sighed. "Now then, please select a dessert, unless you want me to psychoanalyze everything that happened just now instead."

"Strawberry shortcake, please!"

[partycatty]

dom bi han x dom reader?

no one wants to relinquish control

(English is not my first language)

wait this is so me fr

bi-han > give in

arguments, spars, and insults come to a head when you're alone with the grandmaster

warnings: mostly plot, ur both meanies, BI-HAN BOANURRRRRR 🚨 , short smut at the end

notes: shoutout to my pookie bear @doki-doki-imagines for fueling my insanity and giving me such yummy ideas about this <3

[ masterlist ]

• if there's one thing bi-han hated, it was someone who thought they were better than him. that, and your entire existence.

• not a day goes by where you wouldn't fight to the death for the lin kuei, but you just always felt the need to speak up and take charge where bi-han fails to meet your own expectations.

• who the hell do you think you are, trying to beat bi-han at his own job?! he's the grandmaster, you're a grunt, but you exude the confidence of a member with influence. this irks him beyond belief.

• "someone should put you in your place," he'd growl at you in frustration, grabbing a fistful of your shirt to hold you close. you're not afraid of him, though, and simply stare at him with a condescending unamusement that makes the veins in his forehead pop.

• "i'd like to see you try," you purr in response, holding eye contact to show there is not a single ounce of fear in your body. damn him for training his recruits to be so fearless.

• and try he does, pairing you with him when it comes to training. but the fight is so evenly matched, a tie is drawn almost every time. you're as strong as him, and your biggest advantage is that you fill him with so much rage his movements become sloppy and loses its calculated touch.

• when it is determined to be a tie, bi-han grunts out loudly and throws his ice weapon to the ground, making it shatter and dissipate. he storms off, leaving you feeling even more confident that you're a little parasite in his skin.

• a day rolls around where a mission is to be planned, and you stand alongside the brothers, insisting your opinion was just as valid as a higher up.

• "and so we strike along the south-" bi-han moves a figurine to the south side of the map, ready to further his debrief before you chime in.

• "the west had less guards," you interject, planting your index finger along the parchment. "if we enter through the west wing and make our way down south through the tunnels, we-"

• bi-han tries to talk over you. "if you'd use your eyes, you'd notice that the west wing is also the hardest to approach stealthily."

• "even so, grandmaster, that's not to say that the south side is equally as quiet, i presume? you said so yourself that the south is bordered by a cliff-"

• "will you shut your mouth and listen to me?"

• "will you come up with a better plan, then?" you smirk and lean against the table, enjoying your verbal sparring. bi-han, however, is fuming. kuai liang and tomas stand to the side, exchanging tiny smiles at the display.

• "easy, brother," kuai liang will step in, putting a hand on his shoulder. "perhaps it is best to approach the mission from multiple angles."

• bi-han shakes his brother's hand from his shoulder, scowling. he places an accusatory finger your way.

• "this brat has been nothing but a thorn in our sides," he growls, eyes fixated on you darkly. "why we invite their knowledge to our private meetings baffles me."

• "like i'm not the most useful person here?" you retort, putting your flat palm on your chest. "if you recall, grandmaster, it is i that led our army to battle the last few times, while you were busy groveling in your princess chambers. i step up where you can't. i deserve to have a say."

• bi-han turns around to leave, not before pivoting back and trying to throw a sharp, icy spear into your shoulder, one that you dodge as it lodges into the wall behind you. grumbling insults, he leaves from the conversation. maybe planning can happen another time?

• "that was incredible," smoke compliments. "nobody stands up to the grandmaster like that."

• "for good reason, tomas," kuai liang steps in. "he is our grandmaster. at times, it may just be best to follow his command, reader."

• "like hell," you reply, hands on your hips. "one of you should be grandmaster. would serve the clan good." all they can do is shrug neutrally, but one of them suggests to defuse his anger by following bi-han out. reluctantly, you follow the cold breeze until you lean against the door of his personal office.

• it was suspiciously tidy, and you wanted to make a jab at his lack of usage for his office, but the truth was likely that he preferred things orderly and simple. just like him, you snickered to yourself.

• "out," he commanded, his back to you yet he knew the sound of your loud, annoying footsteps.

• "not happening," you groan, eyeing him up from across the room. "what's your deal with me? honestly?"

• "where would i even begin?" he grumbles, fists clenching hard. "final time. out."

• you opened your mouth wide, replying with a firm, flat "no." you weren't really trying to act like some kind of brat to him, you genuinely did not take his order seriously. if you wanted something, you'd do it. and you wanted to stand your ground. "tell me what your issue is." you take more steps toward him, waiting for an answer in the center of the room.

• something inside of him snaps and he spins to face you, shooting a thick sheet of ice around your ankles and trapping you where you stand.

• "you are the most obnoxious, annoying, pretentious, self-entitled, stupid, incompetent, arrogant, useless—" bi-han DRIVES insults into you, jabbing a finger into your shoulder harder and harder with each descriptor. you're dumbfounded as you watch your grandmaster spew cold air from his lips, growing angrier by the second.

• your eyes flicker downward, and you feel your lips curl up devilishly at a new realization. under his pants, a thick tent was evident through his fuming anger.

• "i know why you're mad," your voice drops an octave, biting in your bottom lip to stop a grin. "you like me."

• bi-han's berating stops abruptly, the accusatory finger still in your face. a reddish blush creeps up his cheeks, reaching the tips of his ears.

• "what?" he asks curtly, tilting his head to see if he heard you right.

• "you heard me," you chuckle, leaning in. "you're mad you like me. because i'm better than you."

• "s...stop talking."

• "stop lying, then."

• "i'm not lying, you—!"

• "so you're just hard for no reason?" as you ask, bi-han's scowling lips drop into a tight line. his hand falls in front of his crotch, trying to casually conceal the bulge, but the damage was already done. your shit-eating grin only heated him further.

• the ice around your ankles melted as bi-han stood there at a horrified loss for words. you confirmed your newfound suspicion with so much ease it's a mystery how this man was considered enigmatic.

• how you got here exactly felt like a sweaty blur. your hips swiveled mercilessly against bi-han's, tugging on the ribbon that was one his sigil-bearing armband around his thick neck. low grunts and pants spill from his lips as he tries to gather as much of the flesh of your ass within his palms, squeezing and massaging the skin like it would disappear should he even consider loosening his grip.

• "yeah, you fuckin' like that, don't you?" you ask, slamming yourself onto his thick cock. your other hand couldn't help itself as it swung out and placed a crisp slap to his bare cheek to knock him back into reality. he returns the aggression with a hard buck upward, making you lurch forward and kiss the tips of your noses together.

• "you disgust me," bi-han groans, now taking control of the thrusts as his hips come up to ruin your momentum. as your lips part to gasp in surprise, he spits a thick wad of saliva into your mouth. "i'll use you for all you're worth."

• it feels like an obscene, sinful heaven as he fucks up into you while you choke him. it feels like a sick competition to see who would give in first, who would fold and beg for more.

• being sick and tired of your weight holding him down, bi-han, in one swift motion, manages to flip you over and get you on all fours. before you could protest, he freezes your knees and hands to the ground.

• "fucking annoying..." he mumbles, running a hand up your spine with the other landing a slap your ass. his soft pants become more frequent, and you feel him begin to spasm inside of you.

• "you're real close, grandmaster," you coo playfully, tight moans coming from your lips with each thrust. "i can feel how much you need me."

• "i don't need you," bi-han shamefully mutters, his moans getting increasingly higher, though still quiet. "i don't... hhh—"

• "admit it, you fuckin' liar," you giggle, bouncing your ass back onto him, relishing in the way his dick manages to hit the sweetest points in your walls.

• your banter falls silent as you both reach your high, caught off guard from the overwhelming pleasure as your bodies are used for each other's personal benefit. bi-han bites down on your shoulder as his hips snap forward, spilling his seed inside of you. his mouth is colder than a normal human's, and you find yourself enjoying the goosebumps it creates.

• after several seconds of deep breaths, bi-han pulls out and you feel terribly empty. his cum drips down your folds, tickling your inner thigh. he really filled you up.

• he pulls his pants back up, but you notice that the ice on your limbs remains as you stay on all fours completely nude. as bi-han smooths his hair and reties his armband, you crane your neck to speak to him.

• "h-hey," you shout out, brows knitted together in worry. "you gonna unfreeze me?"

• "no," he replies bluntly, crossing his arms.

• "wh... the fuck you mean, no?!" you wiggle, trying to break free but the ice is unusually thick. "we were in a meeting!"

• "and it'll go just fine without you," he says, cupping your ass with nails. "consider this a lesson."

• "i'll teach you a lesson when i shove my foot up your—" bi-han coldly silences you, literally. his hand wraps around your mouth and creates an icy barrier, preventing you from speaking your mind.

• "you're much more tolerable when you're not talking," a smirk toys at his face as he seems pleased with his work while you squirm in frustration.

[silver-pieces]

she loves it

Pairing: dom!Wanda Maximoff x (afab) fem!reader

Word Count: 6.6k

Synopsis: Your secret arrangement with Wanda is getting harder to hide in front of the others. Wanda pushes her control over you to new limits.

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, smut (sex w/ magic, fingering, orgasm denial), spanking, dom/sub, consensual mind control, roleplay, heavy exhibitionism

A/N: Part 2 of You Will Beg. Shoutout to my ⚡️ anon for giving me ideas for our reader’s superhero name. Name idea came from her OC’s superhero name, Voltage 🥰 I’m so happy with how this turned out and so nervous to share it to the world! Reblogs & comments are especially appreciated. I hope you enjoy... 

Divider ❊ Masterlist ❊ More Wanda ❊ Taglist

one < Series Masterlist > three

“You’re really killing it out there, Sparky.”

You shoot Natasha a look that says seriously? but she just grins and leans back, swiping her drink from the table.

“I really hate that nickname.”

“What? It’s cute, right ladies?” she insists, looking to the others for support. To Wanda, who has been sitting across from you all night.

Mouth suddenly dry, you down, twisting your hands in your lap.

From beside you Maria snorts and mutters, “sounds like a dog’s name,” to which Natasha makes a sound of outrage while the rest of you break out into giggles.

“Wanda, back me up on this.”

Shit. You look up sheepishly.

Wanda meets your eyes and shrugs nonchalantly. “I like it.”

“Yesssss!” Nat claps her hands in victory, but you barely notice, rooted in place by Wanda’s gaze. She lifts a bottle to her lips, not breaking eye contact with you until she has to tip her head back to take a proper swig. You follow the movement of her throat as she swallows, before looking down at your hands again. A tiny pulse runs along your palm, matching the spark you feel inside.

When you’re alone with her, everything feels perfect. You can submit to her completely, knowing you’re safe because she’s in control. But the moment you’re around her in public, you go back to that shy, awkward novice that can barely meet her eyes.

As agreed, no-one else knows about the two of you, but you’re afraid you’ll give yourself away if you’re around her for too long. She’s trained you too well, made you too damn submissive.

Like right now, all she did was look at you and say she likes your nickname, and you’re undeniably wet.

God, you’re so fucked.

“But seriously, the media has like ten different names for you. You’ve got to have a preference right?” Maria nudges you.

You blink. “Yeah, I guess Voltage has a nice ring to it?” You glance towards Wanda on instinct. Seeking her approval on everything is quickly becoming a habit.

“Well, it’s definitely better than ‘Iron Man’,” Maria says, making the others laugh again.

The conversation shifts to other people’s superhero names, and you breathe a sigh of relief to be out of the spotlight.

All the fame and attention happened fairly quickly once you got control over your powers, and it’s safe to say you’re definitely not a part of the stealthier side of the Avengers anymore. These days, your name gets mentioned alongside Captain Marvel, Wanda, and Thor.

You might not like it, but you've come into possession of a wild power - one that demands to be unleashed. Nothing else works; meditating with Bruce, stretching with Nat, combat training with Sam, running, swimming, boxing, nothing stops the buzzing once it starts.

Nothing, except for Wanda.

This morning, she stopped by your room and spanked you over her lap before the day had even begun.

Afterwards, she teased you until you begged and promised you’d be good for the rest of the day. You swear you can still feel the orgasm she gave you, the stretch of her fingers inside your tightness.

“Fuck me, who has time for all that?” Natasha scoffs.

You look up. “Huh?”

“Relationships,” Maria says to you. “You know Miss Romanoff, some of us can multitask.”

“Oh? And who is this lucky person you’re ‘multitasking’ with?”

“Hm, no, I’m afraid you’ll have to pry that information out of me.”

Nat leans forward. “Oh you know I could.”

“I know exactly what you can do, Miss Romanoff. I’ve read your file.”

“Oh, shit,” you laugh. “Have you got some kind of mind reading ability we don’t know about?”

She shoots you a grin and shrugs. “I’m sure Wanda’s better at it than me, but I have my ways.”

“Huh...”

Maria sets her drink down on the table and points. “So: I’ve got someone, Romanoff’s too ‘busy’... what about you, Maximoff?”

Fuck. You stiffen in your seat.

Wanda barely reacts, simply regarding Maria with a blank look. “What about me?”

“Oh, interesting.” Nat leans forward, eyeing her up and down. An unwarranted flare of jealousy sparks within you. “You’re seeing someone, aren’t you?”

Wanda shrugs. “No, I'm not actually.”

Nat doesn’t seem to get the message. “Ah ha! The only question is - are you top or bottom?”

Maria chokes on her drink.

Oh my god. You try not to squirm in your seat and give yourself away, ignoring the way your mind is racing. Nat is too smart for her own good.

Wanda’s jaw sets, a glimmer of steel in her gaze as she stares Nat down. “You do realise I could just read your minds and know exactly who you’ve all been boning, right?”

Nat slaps the table. “Definitely top.”

“Mm-hm,” Maria agrees.

Wanda’s steely demeanour breaks. She cracks a small, exasperated smile, and chuckles. “You two are away out of line.”

“What? Hey, we’re all proud of you for finally getting some!”

She raises her hand in defence. “I’m not - ”

“But if you were, hypothetically, then we’re all very happy for you. Right guys?” Nat gestures to you and Maria.

“Oh, of course!” Maria says.

You give a short nod. All that is going through your mind is the familiar sensation of Wanda bending you over her knee, her palm heating your ass, wetness running down your thigh. The feeling of ultimate submission - 

“So do you use your magic on them during sex?” Nat’s question interrupts your thoughts.

“I would,” Maria intones, sounding just a bit tipsy, “If I could. Really make them feel my power, you know?”

Nat nods in agreement. “Come on, Wanda, you know you want to share.”

You sink down in your seat.

Wanda’s gaze catches on you for a brief moment, before she looks away, folding her arms and sighing. “If I tell you some things, will you finally leave me alone about it?”

Nat raises her hand solemnly. “What happens at ladies’ night stays at ladies’ night.”

A knot forms in your stomach. You don’t know what’s worse - if she’s about to talk about you, or someone else that you don’t know about. The arrangement you have with Wanda isn’t exactly a ‘relationship’, but the thought of her being with someone else... your heart sinks.

She shrugs. “There might be someone.”

Nat claps and whoops and Maria leans forward in interest, while you just keep your eyes lowered, wishing you could be anywhere but here.

“Do you... use your magic on them?”

Wanda flicks her gaze to Maria. There’s a glimmer in her eyes, her head tilting as she considers the question.

Don’t, you think, but you can see it already - her demeanour has shifted; no longer laid back, but proud and powerful, and perhaps a bit cocky too. It’s like Nat and Maria have flicked a switch inside her.

She concedes with a nod. “I have.” 

“Oh shit! And they let you?”

“She loves it.” She says the words so smugly it sends a prickle down your spine, and she briefly glances at you before leaning back in her seat, chin raised and a smirk on her face. “She’s very submissive.”

Heat pools in your core. You bite your lip, holding back the curses you desperately want to let out.

“Damn,” Maria breathes, clearly impressed. “I’m jealous.”

“I thought you had someone?”

She waves her hand. “Yeah but not a submissive.”

“What about mind stuff?” Nat waves her hand around her head. “You know, like the shit you pulled on us.”

Wanda tilts her head. “Not yet.”

A thought flickers in your mind - your dreams. The vision of her, standing across the room from you, lit up by the red sun. You never asked her if she put them there.

Maria laughs. “Girl, if I had your power, I would be exploring the shit out of my fantasies. I mean, if you’re both into roleplay, imagine the possibilities.”

Wanda gives her an assessing look. “Like what?”

“Yeah are we speaking from experience here?” Nat adds, grinning at Maria.

“Hey, I’m just saying.”

“Saying what?” Nat prompts again.

Maria shrugs. “You could... make them say the things you want them to say, you know? Give them the freedom to actually live in the roleplay without having to, you know, act,” Maria says. “And with the visions you can make others see? I mean...”

Your eyes dart between the three of them, struggling to keep up. Roleplay with mind control? Fucking hell. The heat is flaring beneath your skin now, an ardent mixture of mortification and electricity. Your power buzzes beneath your skin in response.

“So how serious is this?” Nat asks, lowering her voice. “Are we ever going to meet her?”

Wanda’s smirk becomes fixed, and she pulls out her phone, as if to signal she’s done with the conversation. Her brow furrows as she begins typing. “I don’t know about that.” Your heart sinks just a little, before she continues, “she’s very shy.”

“Aw, cute.” Nat scrunches her nose.

“Bring her around!” Maria says with a dismissive wave. “I’m sure she’d fit right in.” And she nudges you, as if to say right?

You stiffen and nod in agreement. “Yeah.”

Nat turns to you as if a thought just occurred to her, her face alight with excitement. “What about you?”

“Me?!” you squeak.

She nods. “Your love life! Tell us all the goss.”

“Right.” You look to Wanda, who barely glances you way as she puts her phone away. “Uh, I’m not seeing anyone right now.”

“Yes!” Nat raises her hand to high-five you. “Singles for the win!”

You force a smile and slap her hand, somewhat amazed she didn’t see right through you. “It’s like what you said - I just get too busy.”

“You know you’ve got folks lined up though, right?” Maria asks. “Being The Avenger’s new darling and all. Voltage.”

You duck your head, just as your phone buzzes in your pocket. “I suppose.” You’ve never really thought about it, between learning how to handle your new powers, and your time spent with Wanda, you haven’t had the time or mental capacity for much else.

You check your phone in your lap, and lose your breath when you see it’s from Wanda. You open it under the table.

When we get back, I will find you in your room naked on the bed with your ass in the air.

You almost drop your phone. Instead, after swallowing your sudden shock, you look up, across the table, to Wanda.

She’s leaning back in her seat, paying attention to their conversation and ignoring you completely.

Slowly, you tuck your phone away, and try to ignore the sudden rushing in your ears.

Wanda takes her time.

At first, you debate whether or not to obey her instructions. This whole night has thrown you off guard and you’re not sure if Wanda deserves your submission. She told other people what she was doing to you, and she was smug about it.

You know you should be mad at her. Instead, you find yourself eagerly stripping down and laying on the bed after only five minutes of deliberation. Maybe it’s fucked up, but you need this.

She makes you wait on purpose, you’re sure of it. It’s a mind game she likes to play - a way to remind you who’s in charge. Your mind races, wondering what you did to deserve this extra punishment.

The room is silent, but somehow you can sense when she arrives, as though her magic reaches out to you on instinct.

Eager to be good for her, you keep yourself in position on the bed, completely still. Your naked ass shivers in the air.

Finally, you feel the skim of her hands over your back. A sensation of warmth spreads through you as she begins to adjust your posture; spreading your legs a fraction farther apart, pushing down on the small of your back, tilting your ass higher for her.

You bend to her will, loving how attentive she is, losing yourself in her presence.

She breaks the silence, her voice soft and low. “Tell me what you thought about, tonight at dinner.”

You’ve been submitting to her control long enough to know that she expects a quick, honest answer. “I was embarrassed that you were talking about me,” you say.

“Is that it?” she drawls.

You bite your lip, viscerally aware of the wetness growing between your legs. “I was wondering about that mind control thing. If we could... if it could maybe help me control my powers.” Honestly, controlling your powers was the last thing on your mind, but you had to scramble to find some excuse for the roleplay other than I just want to try it with you. “And... if you’ve maybe done it to me before?” you add.

Her magic twines around your wrists gently but firmly, pulling them together on the small of your back. “What do you mean?”

You swallow. “I sometimes have these dreams of you. Actually just one dream, the same dream, over and over. I meant to ask...”

She’s silent for a moment. “If I told you it wasn’t me, would you believe me?”

You nod. “I would.”

“Hm. Well, it wasn’t. At least, not consciously.” She sighs, tracing a finger up your thigh. “Sometimes, though, I think I don’t know half of what I’m capable of. Perhaps my subconscious reached out to you.”

Your mind races. If she did, then she’s been doing it subconsciously for a very long time. Weeks before the two of you started meeting like this.

She murmurs softly in your ear, “tell me the truth, solnyshko. Did I cross a line tonight?”

The hairs on the back of your neck raise on end, her low lilting tone brushing against your ear like magic. “No,” you respond. “I thought about it and I decided I trust you... I just don’t want you to tell them it’s me.”

She hums in amusement, smoothing her hand over your head. “That’s one decision I’ll still let you keep.”

You half-smile into the sheets, face pressed into the bed.

The mattress dips beside you. “You’ve been a very good girl so far. On my lap now.” Her magic bindings release.

Flushed with heat at her praise, you move to follow her instructions, placing yourself over her lap and trying not to keen too much when she strokes your head like one might a cat. Sometimes you think she likes to treat you like a pet, giving you one-word commands, praising you when you obey, forming magic collars around your throat. All in the name of controlling your powers, of course.

A hard spank jolts you from your train of thought, and you force yourself to start counting before she can scold you for being too slow. “One.”

“This time, after you count, you beg me for the next one.” She spanks you again, a firm slap on your bare ass.

The number comes out on instinct. “Two!” What did she just say?! Fuck.

You struggle to form the words. Heat flares between your legs in delicious humiliation, and you swallow down your remaining pride. “... please spank me again.” The words come out low and quiet, thick with embarrassment you can’t hide. It’s always harder at the start.

But she doesn’t say a word, merely obliging your request and heating your backside with another firm spank. The heat goes straight to your aching, needy cunt.

You tense your thighs. “Fuck... three!” And you bite your lip, rocking yourself over her lap to try and ease some of the tensing growing between your legs. The heat is enflamed and sore and unforgiving.

It’s the ultimate mental struggle. You have to beg her for the next one, because she’ll add more to your punishment if you don’t, but saying the words means you’re giving in.

You’re still struggling to find the words, when Wanda murmurs from above, “What do you say?”

A spark of electricity jolts between your fingers. “Just give me a moment!” you snap.

Then regret instantly washes over you as you realise. Fuck, you’ve disobeyed. “Wanda, I’m sorry, I was just - ”

She releases her magic from your wrists. “Off my lap. Onto the floor.”

You huff nervously, already cowed by the sharp tone of her voice, and obediently slide off her lap and onto your knees in front of her.

She cups your chin, tilting your head up. A beautiful, terrible goddess looking down at you kneeling before her. “You talked back.”

“I’m sorry - ”

“Ah ah.” She tilts her head, eyes glowing red in warning. “I didn’t say you could talk now.” And you feel a collar of her magic forming around your throat.

You close your mouth and look down in deference. And although you’re being punished, you can’t help that warm feeling inside you that glows brighter every time she exerts her dominance over you. You’re losing yourself in her again, and it makes you feel free. There’s no room for anything else in your head but her.

Her fingers creep up your face, pressing lightly against your temple.

You lean into her touch, her palm cupping your cheek.

“You said you wanted to try mind control, solnyshko. I think I’ll use it to punish you for talking back.”

Your eyes flare open and you look up at her, at the red glow simmering in her eyes. You want to speak, to ask so many questions, but you can’t, not unless she allows you to.

She draws in a shaky breath. “Remember, tell me if I cross a line.” The reminder is gentle, promising no anger or backlash if you do.

But all you feel is nervous excitement.

Keeping your eyes fixed on hers, you nod, and brace for her to enter your mind.

Wanda hesitates, her fingertips hovering over your temple.

You’ve put your trust in her completely, and she’s never been more high on her own power, yet cautious about using it. Mind magic is a delicate, dangerous skill to use on someone. To her, it’s always been a defensive instinct. To the Avengers, it’s a useful tool, occasionally a weapon. But to you...

Roleplay. Punishment. A million possibilities run through her mind, of the different things she could make you do, the visions she could make you see.

But none of them seem right. Your infraction is insignificant really, Wanda was just waiting for any excuse to get you like this. The way you had squirmed in your seat tonight, flustered and so fucking submissive, was an intoxicating, heady rush of power. She couldn’t think straight - she just knew she had to have you again.

So she sends tendrils of her magic into your mind with one path - to seek out your darkest desires and make them a reality.

On your knees in front of her, your eyes glow red, and your breathing shallows, as she invades your mind.

Your thoughts become hers, a rush of memories and emotions that centre almost entirely on her, on Wanda, her dark eyes and stern voice. She sees how you lie in wait for her every morning, how your eyes follow her during the days, how you dream of her at night.

A proud thrill races through her.

She clears her throat and pushes past that, to where she can find your darkest desires.

There are several, but one practically jumps out at her - a strong desire, one you’ve thought about recently. One where...

Oh, yes.

Wanda’s magic flares, and she makes your desire into a reality.

“Are you listening to me?”

You zoned out for a second, but, looking up at Wanda, everything becomes clear again.

Some part of your mind registers that you’ve entered an vision in your mind; a strange new reality all created and controlled by Wanda. It’s obvious, because you know for a fact you weren’t wearing clothes a second ago, but now you are.

You frown, trying to recall what led up to this moment, but the memories before this moment are vague, and a small voice in your mind whispers that it’s much easier to just accept your new situation.

The collar around your neck is warm on your skin. It’s connected to a red thread of magic that winds through the room and ends at Wanda’s fingertips. From behind her, the sun is setting behind a wall of glass.

It’s your dream. Only Wanda isn’t standing this time, she’s lounging on a throne, elevated over a simple stone dais that overlooks the scene.

There are people in the room, even though you’re caught in Wanda’s gaze, you can see them in your periphery, in beautiful dresses and tailored suits. The buzz of people talking, the clinking of glasses, the swell of laughter from one group or another, echoes around you. None of them seem to care about the collar around your throat.

"Come here.” Wanda speaks from across the room, but you hear her voice in your mind as clear as day.

The urge to obey her compels you forward on instinct. You mind tells you she is the ruler of this strange place - a dark conquerer to be feared, and obeyed. And she’s giving you an order.

Heart in your throat, you approach the dais. Some people give you a passing glance as you weave your way through the crowd, but no-one outright stares, despite the fact that you’re wearing a collar of Wanda’s magic.

You walk up the steps and stand in front of Wanda, hands clasped behind your back - for some reason, that feels like the correct position.

Her face is unreadable as she takes her time looking you up and down.

You try not to squirm beneath her gaze, but you can’t help the feeling that you’ve done something wrong.

Her eyes soften. “Relax.”

You open your mouth to speak, but find that you only have a select few phrases you can choose from. It’s a strange feeling, having Wanda’s magic in your head, dictating how you can act in this world. For a moment, you panic, but the words the line is there, in your mind, ready to be spoken just as she promised.

You force yourself to take a deep breath and remind yourself that this is all just an illusion, and from the context, you seem to be playing some kind of servant. This is your punishment.

“I’m sorry,” you say, speaking the words her magic dictates, and casting your eyes down demurely. “How may I serve?”

“I want a demonstration. Turn around and display your powers for everyone.”

Trying to swallow down your nerves, you give her a nod, and turn around to face everyone.

“Everybody,” Wanda calls, barely raising her voice, and yet everyone stops to turn and look. A hundred faces turning in your direction. You shift nervously, glancing behind at Wanda on her throne, as she announces you. “A demonstration of my little Voltage’s power.”

The way she says that name is so patronising, heat rises to your face.

A murmur of excitement runs through the crowd.

You lift your hands up to the ceiling, and, as ordered by Wanda, you light up the ceiling with your powers. A rush of electricity channels through your arms, and the entire room is bathed in white light.

The crowd looks on in awe, but you hear none of it above the thunderous waves of your power, travelling through your arms and out the palms of your hands.

It feels good, letting it out. You could keep this up forever, you think to yourself, letting your power flow out more and more. You don’t want to stop.

“Enough.”

Her command washes over you, and you feel your powers cut off instantly, against your will. The electricity dies off, and brilliant light fades, casting the room back in sunset red. You look at your hands in confusion, before realising what happened.

Wanda cut off your own powers with a single word.

Holy fuck. That’s just the vision, right? She’s not this in control of you in real life... is she?

As the fake crowd of beautiful people applauds her light show, you turn and send her a confused look.

She’s smug, sitting on her throne. Curling one finger, she pulls you toward her by the collar on your neck.

You struggle not to lose your balance as you’re drawn in front of her again.

“Good girl,” she croons, “your powers are beautiful.”

None of the words you want to say are allowed. Her magic cuts you off from saying them, steering you towards the approved script. You know you have the option to tell her she’s crossed the line, but you aren’t there yet. So despite struggling against it, you find yourself saying, “Thank you for letting me use my powers.”

And as you say the words, a pulse of heat thrums in your clit, and you can no longer ignore the fact that you’re incredibly wet. Knowing she’s in complete control of this, of you.

She shrugs. “I wouldn’t have, but I wanted to entertain my guests. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about your punishment.” Her magic flares in her hand, and with a twist of her wrist, the collar around your neck flares and tightens. The little gasp you make is involuntary. “Some of our friends are here. I want you to entertain them for a little bit, then come back to me, okay?”

But before you can respond, you feel her magic somewhere else on your body. You realise, as her eyes are glowing with a hint of red, that she’s stimulating your pussy with her magic. It feels like she’s shoving her fingers inside you and rubbing your clit, despite the fact that she’s not even touching you.

Fuck.

Her dark eyes gleam viciously. “Can you be good for me?”

You shift your legs, desperately trying not to react. “Yes, Wanda.”

“Go, then.”

Your mouth goes dry as you cast you gaze on a familiar group of people.

Natasha, Bruce, Maria, Steve, and Sam, are sitting in a lounge area to the side of the room, smiling, laughing, drinking, and talking among themselves. And as you force your feet to carry you towards them, Wanda’s magic invading your tightness, you can’t seem to convince yourself that this is an illusion anymore.

Wanda thinks you're the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen, walking around in public with her collar displayed around your neck. Even though none of these people are real in this vision, it’s a deeply satisfying feeling, showing you off, as hers, for once.

She sits back and watches you approach your little group of friends. Her magic is slowly pushing in and out of your tight little channel, and rubbing against your clit, using the perfect amount of pressure she has learned from experience makes you come.

“Hi, guys,” you say, and you sound adorably flustered. Wanda increases the pressure just for a moment, and is rewarded by the sight of you subtly pressing your legs together.

Wanda makes Natasha the first one to acknowledge you. The spy gives you a friendly smile, her gaze briefly sliding over your collar as she scoots over and beckons you over.

You sit on the edge of the seat beside her, the tiniest furrow in your brow.

“That was really something, wasn’t it?” Bruce says, a gleam of fascination in his eyes. “I mean, your powers are really flourishing under Wanda’s touch. Do you think she’d let us see it again some time?”

You shoot a brief glance in Wanda’s direction. “I don’t know. You’d have to ask her.”

Wanda is unable to hide the smirk on her face as she listens in to your conversation. She’s growing quite attached to the thought of a world where everyone would have to ask her for permission to see your powers. And the fact that she drew this vision from your mind, that on some level, you’ve thought about publicly submitting to her control like this, is a welcome surprise.

She strengthens her magical grip on your pussy, pushing deeper inside of you as you struggle to sit still and engage in the conversation.

A quick peek in your mind, just to check everything is okay, tells her all she needs to know. The top layer of your thoughts are a steady stream of WandaWandaWanda and don’t come don’t come don’t come - 

With a flick of her hand, she focuses all of her energy on the most sensitive areas of your body beneath your clothes. Phantom hands cup at your breasts and lave at your nipples. A trail of heat runs down your behind, evoking the sting of a spank on your ass. It strokes inside your pussy and rubs at your clit, thick stripes of magic flaring up and down through your wet folds.

Sitting on her throne, Wanda waits patiently for you to fall apart.

You’re going out of your mind.

Wanda’s magic is setting you on fire and consuming you from the inside out, and you desperately need to come. But you can’t, not in public, and definitely not without her permission.

This is your punishment.

“Wanda,” you whisper, knowing she can probably hear you in this vision she created. “Please.”

“Did you say something?” Natasha asks from beside you.

Hot, lazy strokes on your clit. Wanda’s magic thrusting up into you. You force yourself breathe, and shake your head at her. “Just talking to myself.”

She chuckles and turns back to the others.

Wanda’s voice sounds in your head, a low drawl. “Do you remember why you’re being punished?” 

You desperately try and cast your mind back, to anything that happened before this world existed. It’s all fuzzy and distant, escaping your grasp every time you try and reach for it. It doesn’t help that your body is on the edge of release, and Wanda’s magic is unrelentingly exploring every inch of your skin beneath your clothing. “No, I’m sorry,” you breathe silently. “Please, I can’t - ”

“You will not come,” Wanda orders with a growl in your ear.

You whimper and turn to look at her from across the room, where she lounges on her throne.

Her dark eyes pierce yours. Slowly, she lifts her hand and curls her fingers. In response, her magic flares on your body.

You’re lost. The sensation of her magic laving, pinching, squeezing, spanking, thrusting, is too much. You stiffen in your seat, biting back a moan. Looking around at the others, you feel a wave of mortification at the thought that you’re about to come. They haven’t noticed yet, Natasha laughing at something Sam said as you shift and stiffen on the edge of the seat beside her.

“W-Wanda - ” you whimper.

Suddenly, your electricity flares. No, you think as you look down at your hands, but it’s too late. It’s vibrating beneath your skin, demanding release.

The dam breaks.

White beams of light jump from your hands and dart around the room, missing the people around you but zapping at the walls and ceiling above.

Blissful hot waves of orgasm ripple out from her magical touch, flooding through your body as Wanda stimulates your release. Your eyes roll back, the moan you’ve been holding back escapes your lungs, and you give in to the mortifying feeling of wetness seeping between your legs as you start to come, hard.

Then, just as quickly as it came, her magic retreats from your body.

The withdrawal jolts you out of your bliss. Your orgasm starts to fade, leaving a terribly unsatisfied feeling in your core, and you clench your legs together. The electricity pouring from your hands dies down. Blinking, you look around. Your friends are ducking down low in their seats, some looking at you in shock. “What...”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticing a parting in the crowd.

Wanda stalks towards you with a look of anger in her eyes.

Your mouth goes dry; guilt and shame washing over you. You came, the one thing she told you not to do.

“I’m s- ”

Before you can finish, she flicks her hands. Her magic lifts you up out of your seat until your feet are off the ground, and despite your instinctive struggling, you are suspended in the air before her.

She twists her hands again, and her magic flares, and your clothes rip apart, exposing your bare skin.

It’s just an illusion, you desperately tell yourself, but you’re already growing hot under the attention of the other people in the room, many of them openly staring. But it’s your friends’ reactions that get to you the most. As they recover from your outburst of power, they cast you disappointed glares, or simply ignore you altogether. As though this is normal.

You’re too shy for this.

You open your mouth to say the words, the line, but something holds you back. Curiosity, perhaps, or just a desperate need to feel Wanda’s dominance, the aching need between your legs ruling over your head.

“I’m - ” you start to apologise again, but the words are cut off in your throat.

Wanda tilts her head menacingly. “I think a well-deserved spanking is in order.”

Your pussy throbs with need.

Her magic flares, and suddenly you find yourself bent over the arm of the lounge, putting your behind on display to Wanda and the crowd behind her, while you’re forced to face Natasha and the others.

Just an illusion, you remind yourself, as you briefly meet Natasha’s condescending gaze, before looking away as a wave of submissive shyness comes over you. Just an illusion.

Wanda spanks you without warning.

You let out a high-pitched gasp, and clench your thighs together as the sting goes straight to your pussy.

“Have you forgotten how to count?” she snaps.

“One,” you rush out, and bite your lip, rocking your hips over the arm of the lounge.

“Too late, we’ll have to start over.” Fuck. “After each one, I want you apologise for being a bad girl.”

Your pussy flares with arousal again, and you think you might come just from Wanda’s dominance alone.

She spanks you in the same spot, and your skin flares with stinging heat.

“Oh...” you moan, the arousal in your pussy heightening. You need her to touch you there. “One! I’m sorry for being a bad girl.”

Spank.

“Two,” you gasp, canting your hips. It’s so hot and wet between your legs. “I’m sorry for being a bad girl.”

“Louder,” she demands, slapping your ass again.

Your eyes almost roll back at the delicious shudder running through your body. You make sure to project your voice louder like she asked. “Three! I’m sorry for being a bad girl!”

She keeps going. Each spank rings out a satisfying slap of skin on skin, the added mortification of being out in public only heightening your arousal. Murmurs go through the crowd, a few people returning to their conversations. A few times she spanks you several times in a row, and to your dismay, she tells you you’re only allowed to count them as one spank.

Despite your very obvious, desperate, pathetic arousal, you go untouched.

You apologise over and over for being a bad girl, for disobeying her, for daring to do something without her permission. You’ve never been more remorseful for your actions. 

“Thirty-seven, I’m so sorry for being a bad girl, Wanda,” you sob, tears streaming down your face. You need her forgiveness, to hear her call you her good girl again. You’ll do anything.

Wetness starts to drip down your legs.

Wanda pauses, and growls. “Goddammit, fuck. You’re so turned on by this, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Wanda,” you respond. “I’m sorry.”

She inserts two fingers inside your pussy without warning.

You go stiff, arching your back for her and spreading your legs as pleasure wracks your body. “Wanda!”

“You want my forgiveness?” she snarls, curling her fingers inside you.

“Yes, yes, yes, please!”

“Don’t. Fucking. Come.”

The order washes over you, and you groan as you realise you can’t physically come, not unless she gives you permission. But it doesn’t change the fact that she’s shoving her fingers inside your tightness harder and harder.

It’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to endure. You desperately want to come, but you need to be good for her.

Your legs remain spread. You’re not even sure if it’s by Wanda’s magic, or if you just feel compelled to present to her fully like this, so she can punish you.

The tension in your core is drowning out anything else. All you can think is Wanda’s command. Don’t. Fucking. Come.

But the pressure is too much. She’s too good, and you’re so close, but you can’t come without her permission. She dominates you effortlessly, bending you over and spanking you and bringing you to the edge with ease.

You break.

You go limp, let go of everything, and just accept what is happening to you. Wanda is in complete control of you, and there’s nothing you can do. You realise you should be grateful to receive this punishment, to be the centre of her attention.

More murmurs from the others echo around you, but you ignore them. Wanda’s fingers invade your pussy faster and harder until your thighs are shaking and your core is a mess of tension and torture.

You close your eyes, and take your punishment.

You’re not sure when exactly the scene shifts, but at some point, you notice that the sounds of the other people have faded, replaced by the rushing of water on the shore.

The pressure in your pussy stops, leaving you on the edge of an orgasm with no release.

Wanda is letting you rest your head on her lap, running her hands over you. The sunset across the water bathes you both in light.

You go to speak, but Wanda cuts you off with a hush. There’s a warmth in her eyes as she cups your chin, thumb stroking against your cheek. “Relax, solnyshko. You took your punishment well. You’re warm, and safe, and there’s no-one around but us.”

“Is this another vision?” you murmur.

“One of mine,” she confirms, a small smile on her face as she casts her gaze around the scenery again.

“It’s beautiful.”

She looks down again at you, a dark gleam in her eyes. “You’re beautiful. And all mine.”

You nod.

It’s not a question, she’s just stating a fact.

You’re calling.

Wanda stares at your caller ID photo for a few moments, the photo taken when you weren’t looking, looking down in shyness. You are adorable.

Something has shifted in your dynamic. It’s not just your punishments that belong to Wanda now, but you.

“You’re supposed to be radio silent,” she says as soon as she answers the phone, eager to admonish you, already planning punishment for you when you return.

“Wanda I - ” you stutter, “I...”

“What?”

“I need you to give me permission!” you cry out, sounding desperate. The sounds of an explosion echo through the speaker.

Wanda frowns. “What are you talking about?”

“My powers, Wanda. I need you to tell me to use them. I can’t...”

“You can’t what?” she prompts. “Use your words.”

“I can’t use them - I think you did something to them. Please, I need to help! The others are fighting.”

A dark wave of satisfaction comes over Wanda. This is wrong, this is too far, this is out of control, but... fuck. You really are hers.

“Okay,” she says. “Use your powers to help them.”

You breathe a sigh of relief. “Yes, Wanda.”

one < Series Masterlist > three

[tired-teacher-blog]

I've been struggling lately with my writing because nothing seems to be good enough. So I thought, what's better to get through this than to try a little something with my two favorite teachers? This is going to be like a little practice round to get me back on track, so I apologize in advance if it sucks 😞

Title : Relationship headcanons

Characters : Aizawa/ Yamada/ Fem reader

Genre : NSFW/ 18+/ Fluff/ Headcanons

Please do not read if you're a minor

Masterlist|Second Masterlist

Aizawa :

SFW :

You have talked about your desire to start a family together, he has even mentioned how many kids he wanted you two to have: "as many as possible" is what he would say everytime the subject is brought up. He just craves the idea of having mini versions of the both of you.

He pretends to hate it, but Aizawa Shōta loves the feeling of your fingers moving through his hair. He groans and pouts everytime you play with his locks, but dare to stop and he'll demand you do it again. It's cute, witnessing the cool and laid-back Shōta sleepily whining about the loss of your touch. It makes you feel special, being the only one who gets to see that side of him.

More often than not, you wake up in the middle of the night to his cold empty spot, but you have never wondered about the reason because you know. He has lived through too many horrors that had left him with a chronic insomnia, and although it has gotten a lot better after meeting you, he still occasionally wakes up covered in cold sweat and ends up unable to fall back asleep until morning. On nights like these, you follow him outside to find him either training or working in his office. And no matter how hard he insists, you always refuse to leave him alone.

He is possessive, and doesn't hesitate to show it whenever someone is being a bit too friendly with you. He would simply walk up to you and wrap a protective arm around your waist while glaring daggers into whoever dared to approach his woman, and that's always enough to scare away any unwanted attention.

He loves kissing your neck, even more so because he enjoys the reactions you make everytime his stubble grazes your sensitive skin.

He's the kind of person who would express his feelings for you through actions rather than words.

He loves seeing you interact with Eri, especially since he knows how much you adore her.

NSFW :

He's not really a kinky guy. That said, he does have a mild breeding fetish.

He is extremely dominant in bed, he takes his time pleasuring you and studying your reactions to everything he does.

He loves it when you moan his name everytime you twitch around his cock with pleasure.

His tongue is magic. He knows the effect the sneaky muscle has on you and uses the fact to draw out the sexiest moans out of your throat. He does it for both of you, he loves knowing that he's the only one who's able to give you that much pleasure.

Bite marks, fingerprints, hickeys... He likes marking you, especially in spots only he has the right to see.

With your permission, he occasionally uses his binding cloth on you.

Except for the deep groans, growls and heavy breathing he lets out when he's deep inside of you, he's not really vocal. But all of that changes when you take him into your mouth: "fuck babe! Yeah keep going", "take me deeper sweetheart.. just like that", "you're driving me crazy", "you're mine you got that?"

He worships every single fiber of your being, so there is no room for insecurities with this man. He would teach you -all night long- how to properly love yourself.

He is the king of aftercare. Sex with him can -and would- get intense, so he makes sure to pamper you afterwards. For instance, he would kiss and trace every single bruise left on your skin, he would gently clean you up, whispers loving words into your ear, makes sure you drink plenty of water and fixes you a snack in case you were peckish.

Yamada :

SFW :

Everyone knows about your relationship because Hizashi loves showing you off. He is so proud to have you and considers you to be the single most important thing in his life, which is why he makes sure everyone around you knows you're taken. Yes, he is possessive.

He gives you special greetings and shout-outs during his radio show and dedicates some of his favorite songs to you.

He loves taking you out on dates, it's his chance to spoil and show you all his favorite places in town.

That's not to say that he doesn't enjoy spending quiet evenings with you at home. He likes those just as much, especially since he gets to be more touchy feely with you.

He confessed his love for you first. He asked you to meet him after hours and shyly admitted his feelings. It was precious and out of character. And even after all this time, you still remember that moment like it was yesterday.

He's playful, and a tease. He enjoys flustering you and the best way to do so is by sneaking kisses and touches when you're on a meeting or outside with friends. He's also really good at it and never gets caught.

Tummy kisses are his favorite. He loves dragging his lips and teeth along your belly just to marvel at the sound of your sweet giggles and the feeling of your fingers through his hair.

NSFW :

Body worshipping is his thing. He vocalizes everything he loves about your body and the things he craves doing to you: "look at that cute puffy cunt inviting me in", "you're so soft honey, I can't get enough", "yeah babe keep bouncing on top of me.. fuck! Your boobs are so distracting", "delicious.. so fucking delicious."

He loves eating you out. He enjoys the way your thighs squeeze around his neck right before his sinful tongue pushes you over the edge.

He usually uses his quirk as well to send blissful vibrations up your core.

You have tried quickies in the teachers' office or in one of the empty classrooms at least a few times.

Titty fucking is one of his kinks. Having you underneath him as you engulf his throbbing dick in your soft boobs is guaranteed to drive him insane.

He loves it when you pull on his hair, even more so when you whine and moan his name as you do it.

You have watched porn together too many times to count -his suggestion- but nothing against your will. You're so comfortable with each other that sometimes you indulge in trying some of the things you see in those movies. It's always fun and helps you learn more about each other's preferences.

[igotanidea]

Be careful who you bring home: Morpheus x OC PART 2

You asked for it and I promised to write, so enjoy a little preview of part 2 to this story.

I got a feeling this will not end here.

Special dedication goes to @mypsychoticlove who accused me of teasing :D

“You seem distracted today.”

“Distracted?” I scoffed in denial “you think. I am completely focused.”

“Mhm, sure” Raynor clicked her pen and wrote something down

“Oh, come on, doctor.” I throw my hands in the air in utter annoyance “is that what they teach you in your psychology school? How to make a patient impatient? Pun intended.”

“If you have something to say now would be a good time”

“Fine” apparently crossing my arms was not a good enough sign of my internal thought “I think this is a complete waste of time. What do I have to do to get clearance and get back on field?”

“The same thing as everyone else. Talk. “

“I believe we are talking?” slight tilt of head was indication of irony, but Raynor either didn’t catch that or decided to ignore me, one way or another her watchful gaze was becoming a bit intimidating “Oh, give me a break” I surrendered and looked down first.

“ I heard from a good source that you got yourself a pet lately.”

“What?” well that was a surprise “Who told you?!”

“So it’s true?” well played, doctor, I fell right into your trap.

“No. Of course not. It was just a stray cat. Nothing permanent. My niece insisted on taking him home.”

“I see.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“I don’t know. It’s your office, I’m your patient. Is I see all you can say now?”

“It’s your time, agent. Your chance to talk to me, not the other way round.”

“Ok” I nodded my head, pondering “Can I ask you a question, then?"

“That’s unusual, but go on.”

“Who the fu….”

“Language, agent!”

“Who the fuck told you about me taking home an animal?” Screw the language. I’m already on the psychologist’s couch and apparently her job is to fix me so let her do that fully.

“I already told you, it does not matter.”

“It matters to me!”

“So you can find that person and do what?”

“Have a little conversation how rude it is to talk about other people behind their backs.”

“Conversation, hmm? Like you had a conversation with Barton?”

“That was different. We were at training!”

“Of course you were. You know, maybe getting an animal is a bad idea for you after all. You would kill the poor being within two days time.”

“You wanna bet on that, doc?” I knew what she was playing now. The inverted logic was quite popular technique and I knew it well enough from SHIELD interrogations, being the one who used it.

“Yes, in fact I do. “

***

„I’m telling you, boss….”

„This discussion is over, Matthew.”

“But I think….”

“Enough of it. I am not going back to cat form.”

“Well I think it’s worth a shot.” Third voice, far more cheerful than the previous two, came into the discussion

“sister” Dream sighed heavily, feeling like she might want to push him into doing something he would not like.

“hello, brother” she grinned “I heard about your little adventure.”

“Who told you?!” the younger endless raised his gaze and eyed Matthew with a warning

“Doesn’t matter. What matters is that you get to see human interacting with animals. This should have been good to you. Most of them become more … gentle with pets.”

“I don’t see where you are going with this, sister.”

“Oh, you are a terrible liar, Dream. You know exactly what point I’m trying to make here. You need to explore more of the world in your cat form.”

“no.”

“you are taking this way too serious. Come on, Dream. Live a little. Life is full of surprises and you don’t have to be moody and sulking all the time. Come on” she nudged her brother’s arm “I’m telling you….” She flashed a smile again

“You two are unbearable.” He muttered

“So, think about it” Death took his arm and forced him to start walking with her “if you do, we won’t have to have this talk again. Doesn’t that sound good.”

“It does.”

“Why do I feel there’s a but coming?”

“But I don’t believe you would not talk about it again.”

“come on, boss, we promise, don’t we, Lady Death. And who knows, maybe you will enjoy this so much that…..”

“Enough, Matthew” Morpheus stopped abruptly and his Raven, who was flying close behind nearly bumped into his back. “I shall not listen to my subject.”

“Well that was painful. Remember who helped you get out of hell, boss.”

“That I do. But is does not give you any power, whatsoever.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Dream. Why can’t you just listen to your friend?” Death asked shaking her head in disbelief over her brother’s stubbornness. He already opened his mouth to interrupt her train of thoughts, but she was quick to continue “yes, Dream, a friend, but we all know you are in denial. However, if you cannot bear the thought of listening to Matthew, how about you listen to me, hm? I’m older, wiser and more experienced with humanity. Oh, and did I mention, older? “

“Twice.”

“That’s good enough of an argument” she shrugged “you want to bet you will like it, Dream?”

“I made a bet with you once” he reminded, his voice turning lower than usual.

“And you loved and still do love every second of it” she raised her hands stopping him from talking again “even if you will never admit it. So, how’s its gonna be?”

***

The second I left Raynor’s office I started to regret making that bet. Damn my stubbornness and tendency to prove people wrong. Some may say that was a bit of a masochism and ironically the source of this self-torture was my psychologist. Ha, ha, ha, laughing hard. In case you didn’t catch that it was high and thick irony. Now, I had to get myself a pet and take care of it for a while without making any part of this relationship go crazy. But how the hell am I supposed to do that. In my life I did not have much experience with the animals, blame the line of work. SHIELD was not really a pet-friendly environment. Ok, fine, there were some rumors about Fury and some cat named Goose but a cosmic being cannot be counted as a home pet. Maybe we should rank Spider-man or Ant-man as ones. But seriously, cats and dogs and even hamsters or parrots I knew were messy, loud and joyful animals, none of this trait appealing to me. The cat Jemma found yesterday was seemingly different but it’s not like I can summon him to me again.

“Shit!” I muttered to myself or at least I thought so.

“Look who’s here!” a familiar face came into my view.

“Oh, hello, Sam. Wonderful to see you, falcon” I grinned, sudden animal though coming into my head.

“Is it? “ he frowned and took a step back “I hate it when you smile like that.”

“Like what” I took a step forward, ready to make a dance.

“Like crazy. Seems like Raynor is failing on her job again. The same was with Buck.”

“One soul gazing exercise and you call him by nickname?” my raised eyebrows made Sam realize he made a mistake and said too much “what’s next? Gossiping about girls?”

“Actually….”

“you know what, I don’t want to know. What are you doing here, Sam?”

“What do you mean, it’s a park. Everyone can walk in the park.” Suddenly he became a bit defensive

“Mhm, right, sure. But what I found suspicious is that you live on the other side of the city and you have three others park nearby, so why this one?”

“I like this one.”

“Since when?” I insisted

“Since one of my friends lives here.”

“Sam…..”

“What?”

“Why are you spying on me?”

“What?” he shrieked and then coughed and then scoffed “Why would I do that?”

“You just affirmed it.”

“I did not……”

“Cut the crap, Sam. Tell me ….. oh, wait” sudden realization dawned on me “it was you. Shit, Sam.”

“You are not making any sense, agent.”

“what happened to friend?” I mocked “I’m going to ask you one question. Did. You. Tell. Raynor. About . The cat. I. Took. Home?” Since I made every word a sentence it was my chance to take a step closer toward him with every other one. Now I was standing impossibly close to him, looking straight into his eyes with my most intimidating look.

“Damn! You act like Buck, ekhem I mean Barnes now. Is that what they teach you to become and agent?”

“Well I learned it in the process, yes. That’s something you could use as well. Now, answer the question.”

“Fine, fine! I told her, but only because I’m worried about you, ok? I mean how would you react upon seeing someone you care about running around a park and taking stray cats home?”

“That is not what happened!”

“I did not say that was what happened. But it might. In the future. If we don’t act now.”

“Sam…” I rubbed my forehead in disbelief.

“What? I am worried about you, really. And I do want to help you. Missions without you are not the same. I miss your sarcasm and teaming up.”

“You know I appreciate it, really do. But why didn’t you come to me in the first place?”

“Would you listen?”

“Hmmm” I wondered about the answer “Probably not, but….” There was something on my right, a small, black, furry shape. It could not be……

“What is it?” Sam followed my gaze.

“It’s nothing. And I’m fine. I gotta go Sam. See you soon” I walked away from my friend trying to test a crazy theory.

“This girl is crazy.” Sam muttered to himself, shaking head.

***

Third person POV

“Oh no, it’s him again” she thought upon spotting a familiar figure.

 “Oh no, it’s her again” meowpheus thought at the same moment.

Dream should have known better, because where else could have they spotted the girl once more if not in the park that was nearest to her apartment. As for her, she couldn’t have known that, but her park was the only place Morpheus knew so far so the chances of meeting again was 100%.

As their gazes met, she knew there was something different about this animal, however not sure what. But the way he was moving around like he owned the place, the way he was avoiding people and, god forbid, kids, but not hiding was not a typical animal behavior. It was more humane.

“Are you stalking me?” she whispered in his direction.

Do you think yourself so special? You are just a human.  

***

I am going crazy. I hear a cat talking to me. Yes, I’m mental. Maybe if it was the first time I would let it pass, blaming the stress, anxiety, lack of sleep and hundreds different reasons, but it was happening again. Maybe I was dealing with some demon. Or even the devil himself. Or a familiar of some witch…..

Not quite so much.

“Ah!”  I almost jumped because of that little inside voice. Girl, get yourself together! You are an agent. You though criminals, villains and aliens and now a cat makes you doubt yourself?

Are you scared?

“What? No!” I scoffed. It was an instinctive answer, but what seemed natural to me was not like that from other people view. Of course they did not hear the cat so in their opinion I was talking to myself. To make it just a bit better I quickly put out my phone pretending I was talking thought the headset but they were still gazing at me suspiciously. Ok, now I gotta get out of this place. I rushed towards the gate, steady but quickly in my best intention to get home, but the cat followed me like a shadow.

Wait.

Just ignore him.

I think we can both use each other’s help.

A cat’s help. Right. Keep walking.

Wait!

Now he was not just talking, he was commanding and I was forced to stop and turn around since sudden darkness and coldness crept inside me. I was looking at the cat and he clearly was looking at me.

You are troubled. Now I remember your dreams.

I’m sorry, what now?

I know you.

That was not creepy at all.

And I hold power over your sleeping hours, so you will listen to me.

I raised an eyebrow in mocking expression and crouched next to him.

“You are a cat. How can you possibly command me this way?” I whispered “if anything it’s the other way round. I could do anything to you.”

You would not dare touching me.

“Really? Let’s see about that” I reached for him and before he could break away I was already holding him close “not so combative, now, are you?” I teased.

Put me down, immediately!

“Let me think about it…. No. Now I am in control. And I will not let go until you explain yourself. Who the hell are you, because you are not an animal?”

I do not need to…..

“I think you do ….From what I remember you are not a great fan of being embellished. You remember my niece? Wonderful girl. She loves pink and she loves glitter . And so it happens I can call her anytime and invite her in….”

Stop it

“did I mention she loves animals?’

Stop it!

“Explain. Actually, don’t. Not here. Let’s get to my apartment and then we’ll….. um, talk, I guess.

If only the poor girl knew who she was taking home……

 

 @somest1 @pinksirensong

[sadraccoon061]

So, here's a thing!

The first part of my new Sims Story*.

Inspired by Shadowrun & Cyberpunk worlds & themes etc. Basically, my Alien squad getting up to shenanigans that I have decided to mash into a story for funsies:

Newt moves in with new roommates VexX and Ambergris, all aliens living on Simterra*. Newt hopes to make a new life for himself and pursue his medical training, and maybe make some friends along the way. Little does he know that VexX and Amber are actually part of a Runner crew, taking on jobs that frequently involve the underworld and shadier elements of the city...and it often leads to trouble.

*Insert clever title here...TBC *My name for the Sims planet

Anyway, if you check it out, hope you enjoy it!

【Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ　１：　Ｉｎｔｒｏｄｕｃｔｉｏｎｓ】

Newt: Well, here goes nothing. I got this? I got this. Okay Newt...just like we practised...Oh! Should I have brought some kind of food as a gift? Have I got time to run to the shop? I wouldn't even know where the shops are here...ugh Well, that's that then. Guess I'm doing this, gift or not...

Newt walked into the apartment, and was immediately greeted by a man in dark sunglasses with deep grey skin with red markings, and with red hair to match. Newt was an alien himself, but this man looked like no being he had ever seen before. He was so intrigued and realised that he was staring, and his carefully rehearsed introduction ended up tumbling out in a garbled mess... Newt: Oh...um...helloit'snicetomeetyou, mynameis- ???: Woah! Slow down, kid! You're Newt ain't ya? Newt: Y-yeah that's me! I live here! Well, sort of. I will live here...um...I'm moving in today!

VexX: [VexX chuckles] Heh, I knew it! Take a breath, Newt, ya found the right place. 'm VexX. Guess we're officially roomies now! Newt: G-good to meet you! [Newt automatically reaches out to shake hands, and VexX returns the gesture] VexX: Careful kid, that's my eyeball you're squeezing. One of 'em, anyway! [VexX winks]. Newt: Oh, I'm so sorry! Um... [Newt withdrew his hand, flustered, which only seemed to amuse VexX]

VexX: [VexX laughs] Relax, 'm only jokin' with ya. Seriously, don't worry about it. It ain't like ya expect eyes to be there, y'know? Even with people like us! [VexX eyed Newt's bag and suitcase] Is that all ya stuff? [Newt nods, and VexX nodded back in understsanding] 'kay then, here, let me grab that one for ya and I'll show ya t'ya room. Newt: That's okay I can manage...don't trouble yourself...um... Newt quickly realised that his protests were pointless, and he surrendered the bag to his insistent, helpful new housemate.

VexX: So I'll give ya the grand tour later but for now, my room is at the end there, you're next to me 'cause...well, Ambz will explain 'm sure...there ain't all that much to see but it's home, y'know? Newt's gaze swept over the apartment as his new roommate lead him to his new room, excited. His new home. VexX was right that there wasn't much to see - from here he could see most of the rest of the apartment. His attention snapped back to VexX. Newt: Sorry...uh, Ambz? VexX: Yeah, Ambergris, our other [VexX cleared his throat, looked over his shoulder and raised his voice as if addressing someone who wasn't present. The increased volume made Newt jump] ANTI-SOCIAL roomie - I'll drag his ass out of his room so he can say hi, don't ya worry. Newt chuckled softly - he already felt far more at ease than when he first arrived. He hadn't imagined it going this smoothly! One roommate met, one to go...

VexX: And here it is! Your own personal space. [VexX gestured around the room] It uh, might not look like much but- Newt: [In almost a whisper] It's perfect. VexX: I mean uh, I wouldn't go that far but whatever powers your uh, light-speed drive I guess. Newt nodded, taking in his new space. The furniture was sparse, a shabby bed and chest of drawers and a pokey desk. But to him, it may as well have been a luxury hotel suite. He could work with this - besides, it wasn't like he needed much space anyway. VexX: I'll leave ya too it so can settle in a bit, and I'll go drag Ambz out...we'll be in the livin' room when you're ready. Ambz might not even be awake, so take ya time. Newt: [Newt chuckled and smiled] Thanks, VexX. It's been great meeting you. VexX flashed Newt a grin, showing off rows of spiky teeth. Newt also thought he saw a hint of an otherworldly looking tongue, but it could have been his imagination. VexX: Yeah, you too - welcome to your new home, kid!

VexX left Newt alone in his new room, clutching the handles of the small bag of belongings he had brought with him. His suitcase was still by the door, but he could grab it later. VexX seemed friendly, even if he looked intimidating. Though he wasn't entirely sure how to feel about the nickname "kid" yet. Especially when VexX didn't seem *that* much older than he was - he hoped it wouldn't stick! But, those were all things to worry about later. For now he had a space of his very own. Yeah, things were going to work out just fine.

Uhhhh thanks for reading!&lt;3

Special thank you to @occultradio for encouraging me to Do The ThingTM and for being a massive inspiration tbh :).

Thank you to all CC & pose creators!

Onward!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Azul, Jack: An Honest Effort

The first thought I had about the Groovy is… MAN’S BARELY OFF THE GROUND (as expected). I imagine that Azul aggressively insisted to the photographer they should lie on the ground to get a high angle shot of him on the broom just to give the false impression of him being higher up than he actually is.

I wanted to write about Azul coming to terms with accepting who he was, as well as shed a light on how hardworking he is. He didn’t just take the easy way out, he actually worked his ass off in all that he does. There’s many instances of Azul going above and beyond go improve, even for things he sucks in or for inconsequential things (flying in his P.E. Uniform vignette, rolling the dice in his School Uniform vignette). He deserves recognition for that.

A Boy in Bloom, and his Flowering Future.

“What do you do on your days off?”

“I don’t much like to be idle. Time is money, and I would prefer to not waste either,” Azul expelled a breath. “If you must consider it a ‘day off’, then... I wake up early, prepare myself a drink, and peruse the papers. When there is no work to be done, it’s all about self-maintenance.”

“I agree it’s important to take care of yourself, but... You’re basically still working at that point.”

“You could put it that way, yes. However, sharpening one’s mind is not just busywork. It’s also like a kind of training to strengthen the brain, similar to how one would train to strengthen their muscles.”

“Now that, I get.” Jack nodded. “There’s nothing like the burn after a good, honest workout.”

At this, Azul winced. “I fail to see the appeal of such a thing. It’s hardly a sensation that I’d call pleasant. However, I suppose it can be nice to physically feel the results of rigorous effort.”

“You should try it sometime then. You’d appreciate training the muscles if you worked up a sweat yourself.”

“... I do.”

The effect on Jack was immediate. The beastman’s eyes popped, jaw hanging open and fur standing on end.

“HUH?! Azul-senpai, you... train?! Seriously? I never thought I’d hear the word from your mouth!”

“Yes,” Azul replied, bristling. His voice was set in frost. “Is that really so difficult to believe?”

“It’s just--” Jack stopped himself and reconsidered. “You’re not the type of person I picture doing that kind of thing.”

“What does it matter if I am or not? Anyone is capable of exercise, and it is well within my right to do so.”

“Er… yeah, you’re right.” The shock quickly turned to shame, and Jack’s ears flattened, tail dropping. “Sorry. I got caught up in the moment and said something careless.”

“As your benevolent upperclassman, I will overlook your transgression and accept your apology made in earnest.”

Jack gave a small smile. “So tell me more about your training. What kind of exercises do you do? What made you want to start?”

“I try to work a little of everything to ensure that my body is evenly toned. As for what motivated me to begin… I suppose you could say that I was, in your own words, looking for a ‘good, honest workout’.”

“But unlike me, you’re not in an athletic club. You don’t like P.E. class either. When you talked about it earlier, it didn’t sound like you enjoyed training. I don’t think you’d go out of your way to do it for fun.” Jack folded his arms and furrowed his brows. “If you only wanted to get stronger, wouldn’t it be easier for you to make a deal and take someone’s strength?”

“Is that truly what you think of me?” Azul frowned. “You miss the point. What use is it to steal what you desire most rather than earn it for yourself? Would I really be able to call those traits my own? There is no pride to be had in that.”

“You didn’t have an issue with it before winter break.”

“Well…” A complicated look clouded the birthday boy’s features. “I was a different person then. Those things don’t have the same value as they once did. They’ve depreciated.”

In spite of the coldness of his words—the pointed truth of them—there, too, was a soft sadness slipping past his lips. Acknowledgement, and painful sympathy.

Azul was looking at Jack, but not clearly seeing him. His eyes seemed to be trained on something else, someone else, far off in the distance.

A sad little boy curled up in a pot, clouds of inky black tears coloring the water.

“… I was a different person then,” Azul repeated, this time more firmly. “I endeavor to be someone worthy of admiration through my own efforts. If I can be satisfied with my abilities, then it will steer me from walking along that dark path again.

“Be it flying, strength, or luck of the draw… I have always been aware of those shortcomings, in life, but what good comes out of it were I to stop there? What good comes from wallowing in doubt? That is why I will make something for myself, and why I must find my own strength through honest effort.”

I will accept the past and use it to guide me to the future. The “me” I wasn’t able to accept then… Someday, I will become strong enough to embrace him.

Jack stared at him hard. “Are you being honest with me?”

Azul chuckled faintly. “Why wouldn’t I be? What would I hope to possibly gain by deceiving you about my personal ambitions?”

“Towards the end, it didn’t sound like you were…” Jack paused, cocking his head to one side. “Are you even still talking about your Overblot anymore?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I was referring to that incident. What else would I be talking about?”

“You’re dodging the question again,” Jack sighed. “It’s good that you’re motivated to keep up that training though. With that kind of attitude, I’m sure you can reach the heights you’re dreaming of.”

“Urk! Must you phrase it like that?” He hurriedly glanced away, mumbling to himself under his breath. “And here I was, so carefully redirecting the conversation away from that!”

“Heh.” Jack allowed himself a smirk. “So even Azul-senpai has this kind of side to him, huh…”

“Wh-What side?!”

“You know, like a point of weakness. Vulnerable. Kind of squish—”

“AHHHH, DON’T SAY ITTTT!!” Azul pleaded, his volume and pitch spiking into a loud whine.

Jack deadpanned. “Yup. There it is, the squishiness.”

“A-Ahhhh… You went and said it anyway…” the birthday boy groaned, a hand to his forehead. He took a deep gulp of air and slowly exhaled. “… Excuse me, forget you heard that.”

“Why? Isn’t it good to be aware of your weaknesses? That way, you can find strength from them.”

Azul warily eyed him. “You’ve got some bite in you after all.”

“You keep me on my toes. Wouldn’t want you catching me off-guard someday.”

“My, I’m honored to hear that. I’ll have to work hard to keep up with that strong moral character of yours.”

“Good luck. You can work on that along with the muscles. Maybe I’ll see you at the gym or on the field sometime. Until then… show me what you’ve got.” Jack nodded at Azul’s broom.

“Hmph, very well. Prepare for me to deft your expectations, and bear witness to the fruits of my labor!!”

The merman mounted his broom, tensely straddling the handle between both legs. It was a posture he has practiced for hours on end—perfected and polished like a mirror, if not a little too stiff.

The moonlit air around him heated with magical energy, sparkles flickering among the flowers. Very slowly, his bouquet—and his feet—lifted from the ground.

And…

… Azul sluggishly chugged forward, only a few centimeters off of the ground.

“Uh… good job? … I think.” Jack searched for a compliment. “It definitely ‘defied’ my expectations like you said it would.”

Azul flushed.

“… N-Not a word of this to anyone, Jack-san!!” He sputtered back. “Solemnly swear to me that you will not share this with a single soul!!”

[whisperofsong]

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: Bob prepares to embark on a mission and you’re determined to demonstrate how much you care about him.

Note: After (finally) watching Top Gun: Maverick, I couldn’t help but be drawn to lovable, endearing Bob.  Thank you for reading my work; I hope you enjoy it😊

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It’s a rowdy night at the Hard Deck as the aviators ready themselves for the upcoming mission.  Although you’re not part of Top Gun, your close friendship with Natasha “Phoenix” Trace has its perks, one of them being that you’re often included in get togethers with the group.  The din in the bar is comprised of clinking glasses, raucous laughter, and music emanating from the front of the bar as patrons participate in enthusiastic renditions of songs through karaoke.

While some of the guys inflate their egos with a competitive round of pool, Bradley Rooster Bradshaw, Bob Floyd, Phoenix, and you sit at a small table and converse about the impending mission.  Although you’re doing your best to listen to all of your friends’ contributions to the discussion, you find yourself focusing on one person in particular: Bob.

“I’m just saying that this mission feels different.  Sure, each mission entails risks, but with the way Maverick was talking this morning…I don’t know.”  Rooster shakes his head as if to dismiss this heavy thought, but it’s evident that it continues to linger in his mind.

“Maverick’s an intense guy, Rooster.  Plus, he knows he’s assembled a competitive group, so if he talks it up, we’ll be inclined to work harder.”  Phoenix takes a hearty sip of her drink, slightly grimacing as she shallows and places the glass back on the table.  “Think of it this way,” she declares with authority.  “Now that you’re locked down in a relationship, you have someone to come home to, someone waiting for you here.”

Rooster’s mouth quirks up in an impish grin as he considers her words.  “She is worth coming home to, that’s for sure.  Any guys catch your eye, Phoenix?”

She smirks at his inquiry and briefly glances at her almost empty glass before responding.  “No one special, but there is a guy I’ve been seeing casually.  We’ll see where it goes.”  She shrugs before regaling Rooster with a humorous incident that occurred during training the other day.  While they interact with one another, your eyes flicker again to Bob who is extremely quiet, more so than usual.  You lightly kick his foot underneath the table, pulling him away from his thoughts.

“What’s on that brilliant mind of yours, Bob?” you ask playfully, shooting him a soft smile.

Bob gives you a small smile in return and adjusts his somewhat crooked glasses.  “I-it’s nothing.  Really.” He waves it off sheepishly, which only piques your curiosity.

“C’mon, tell me.  I wanna know,” you say in a genuine tone.

“Well…it’s just…I-um-I don’t really have…anyone waiting for me.”

You give him a quizzical look, not understanding what he’s implying.  “Waiting for you?”

Y-yeah. You know.  When I come back from the mission.”  He averts your gaze and takes an especially large sip of his water, which you suspect is a nervous reaction after his recent admission.  A couple minutes pass as you study Bob, seemingly uneasy as he anticipates your response.  You reflect on the time you’ve spent in his presence over the last several months and realize how much fondness you hold for this man.  The one who insists on holding the door for you whenever he can. The one who makes a point to inquire about your day and prompts you for details instead of settling for generic answers.  The one whose sweetness isn’t a ruse or a ploy to charm women, but rather a sincere characteristic that makes him…him.  

“That isn’t true, Bob,” you correct in a firm voice.

His eyebrows close in and he stares at you with a puzzled expression.  “What?”

“You said you don’t have anyone waiting for you, but that isn’t true.  You have me.”

Bob’s cheeks are now flushed and his pupils are enlarged as he absorbs this striking revelation.  “Wh-wh-what?  I…I don’t’ understand.”

“It’s pretty simple.  When you come back, I’ll be here waiting for you and, the whole time you’re gone, I’ll be thinking of you.”  You smile at him warmly, deriving both amusement and pleasure at his stunned features.

Before he can reply, you stand up from the table.  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have something I need to do.”

“Wait-“  However, you don’t stop to provide Bob with an explanation because you’re already on your way to the section of the bar reserved for karaoke with the perfect song in mind.

Once you’re set up with the microphone in your hand, you speak into it clearly and confidently.  “This song goes out to a special friend of mine.”  While your friends gawk at you in wonder, your eyes remain on Bob whose mouth is now agape.  As the familiar opening notes of “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” by Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell ring out, various individuals, including Rooster and Phoenix, hold their drinks high to signal their approval.  The initial nerves begin to dissipate as you grow more comfortable and gradually find you’re immersing yourself in the experience as you observe Bob’s reaction.  His face undergoes a delightful metamorphosis with confusion and surprise transforming into happiness with the knowledge that this performance is for him and him alone.

When the final chorus hits, other patrons join you in singing and dancing, but the best part is seeing Bob stand up and sport a smile that truly has him glowing.  Your heart could almost burst from his reaction and, as a result, your own grin grows to a remarkable size.  Once the song ends, the bar erupts into applause accompanied by some cheers and you blush at the attention.  As you approach the table where you were previously sitting, Bob abandons his spot and briskly walks towards you, pulling you into an unexpected, but welcome nonetheless, embrace.  He holds on to you tightly and you do the same, thinking that nothing else in your life has ever felt so right.

“Thank you,” he whispers, his breath tickling your ear.

“You’re welcome,” you whisper as he clutches you to his chest.  If you could permanently reside in Bob’s arms, you would do it in a heartbeat.

He pulls away first and says, in a voice laced with tenderness, “I can’t wait to come home to you and I haven’t even left yet.”

@bradshawsbaby @theforgottenmcrmy @gretagerwigsmuse @bratshaws @cantfighthemoonknight @roosterforme @stranger-nightmare

[vampiremeerkat]

I kinda need some advice (if you're comfortable giving), how does one keep their cool/sanity in the hellish atmosphere that is fandom nowadays? I really wanna get back to fanart and stuff as purely a hobby (and it was a huge part of my childhood) but considering how much of a warzone it is nowadays, I dunno if I can. Got anything?

Don't think I'm the right person to ask, I've not had that many entanglements with fellow fans throughout my online career. It's easy to assume that's because my overall viewership/online presence is low, but I've had the occasional semi-viral success and always enjoyed more praise than "criticism". I'd say fandoms in general are lenient and supportive, but every and any kind of community in the world has an insufferable minority. They shout and have alot of time on their hands, making it seem like you're dealing with a crowd, but that's never the case. Even if hundreds of people jump you, billions walk the Earth; it's not even a fraction of a percent you've displeased. But here's an actual answer to your question: In short:

Choose your fandoms wisely.

Don't overstay your welcome by sticking with one.

Don't join any online communities or participate in ongoing discourse. You're only here to draw.

Train yourself to understand that nothing in life fucking matters anyway. :(

In ｌｏｎｇ: I switch my focus alot. If I attract fans of a particular fandom, but the next thing I show off is less likely to tickle their interest, most will leave again, and it's kinda protecting me from growing an unsettlingly invested fanbase. Praise and attention never motivated me to stick around with one series for long, because I know what's waiting around the corner and don't want to be known as "the <insert this one piece of media here> artist", anyway. Look at my nonsense and go away, I just want to die alone! I'm also not active at any online forums and rarely look up and comment on other people's work. Spares you alot of "who asked you"-styled responses. I might've not when I was younger, but agree with the sentiment now. Unless you come across something criminal, why intrude on someone else's fun. Grumble about it on your account if you must, but don't take it to theirs.. even though it's valid to argue that posting something online is an automatic invitation for others to critique it, especially when you don't apply any form of visibility restrictions. I don't really care to discuss ideas with fellow fans. Weird claim, since my Tumblr exists, but I started this account to post Deviantart stuff. People showed up one day and started asking questions about the fandoms I've been involved in (or haven't), but it's not my hobby to get deep about a fictional property. Without getting instigated, anyway. I think about a question's subject as I read the words, do my best to dissect the whole thing and not throw around one-sentence replies, but seldom have the answer ready in my head. The3Eds was the only forum I enjoyed myself at, and the things I talked about over there barely had anything to do with Ed, Edd n Eddy. In the end, no one will be able to offer you one foolproof strategy on this matter. There've been many artists in the past who minded their business and were slaughtered by strangers. You need to be the kind of person who doesn't take online verbal abuse to bed. That's hard to do if you're looking for validation. You could avoid large fandoms that are known to attract the overly defensive and offensive, but if you have to tiptoe through life for others, what's even the point. Know that the internet is a luxury you don't have to participate in. Log off for a week or so if you're feeling down, or alternatively, delete all comment notifications indiscriminately as you keep on doing your thing.. unless you insist on deleting negative comments, but I don't think you should. Why stop people from embarrassing themselves in public. I don't think I've ever deleted comments, unless it's copy-pasted stuff/spam, because what often happens is that the poster regrets and deletes it themselves. I suppose that has value too. Allow that shit to stay alive, so the poster may one day return to it and potentially realise they're better than that. It's easier to keep your calm when you humanize your critics, if you can. The way a person expresses themselves may be trash, but what is it they're saying, and can the reason be empathized with? Sometimes you're dealing with someone who's obviously a child. I struggle to get angry at people under the age of 20. But really -and more importantly- no one should waste their time on fighting fellow fans when it concerns an issue that's objectively not important, you have better things to do. Try to close your eyes for it, it's seldom personal, even if the attacks try to be. People can pretend, but they don't know you and never will.

[cutiepisenpai]

Summary: Part 2 of Undertaker has a new guest in his shop a young woman who had drowned in the lake.

Warnings: mentions of drowning and freezing.

A/N: There will be more of this I started writing while I was sick and my thoughts were very incoherent.

Part 1, Part 3 , Part 4 Part 5

Is it truly possible for a human to freeze to that point without dying? No, Undertaker is unsure of how she is still amongst the living but he knows she was a corpse when she arrived.  

"Well it looks like you are in good health." He says.

"Good so I can leave now."

The Undertaker knows he can't let her leave but he needs to convince her that it's in her best interest to stay rather than force her. 

"Not the best idea Dearie. You were for sure dead when you were brought in.  Folks won't take too kindly to the dead waking about."

"I'm not dead…." She retorts

"But you were. And where are you heading, you don't know anyone, don't even know yourself." 

"It's not like I can just stay here."

"Of course you can. I already know you are quite strange. And I'll help you find out how you ended up like it." He says, with a smile.

In reality he has his own questions about her and so he needs to keep her close to observe.

"Okay, I'll stay until we figure out what happened."

***

Over the next several months the two had grown close. Undertaker would ask questions hoping to learn more about her previous life but nothing ever came of it. He decided to train her as an assistant. He didn't need the help but she was insistent that if she should stay here she should help out. One day while he was out for a funeral she cleaned the front of the parlor. All the dust and cobwebs swept clean and it was frightening to him in the least so after that he took to teaching her about crafting coffins. 

The Undertaker still had some many questions about her, he looked into the pendant she wore around her neck and found nothing. If only he could see her cinematic record but he doesn't want her to die, she is special. She truly was a mystery to him and as much as it frustrated him, Undertaker enjoyed the task of fixing the puzzle that is her together.

"When are you finally going to let me help other than cleaning the backrooms and carving coffins?" She asks.

"That's more than enough for you to do dear. And your coffins are beautiful works, perhaps given a few years and they will be even better than mine." 

"Don't tease me with false flattery."

He moves so quickly and is in front of her within an instant holding both of her hands in his.

"My dear I would never tease you. I speak only the sincerest of words." He says with a wide toothy grin. 

"Oh you're terrible, such a dreadful sense of humor." She says.

Switching to a more serious tone and bringing his covered face closer to hers, "plus you need to put more of your energy into regaining your memories not working in this place."

“It has been months and no memories have returned. What's the point anyway.” She says looking away even though she couldn't see his eyes she felt his gaze on her. 

“Oh are you worried about leaving my side my dear? No need to worry, even if you find where you belong you are welcome to stay here by my side.” He says grabbing her chin and making her face him once again. 

“Enough with your teasing.”She says with a huff. She can feel a wave of heat wash over her body and pushes him away. He bends at the center laughing at her reaction. 

The Undertaker loved to tease Y/N especially because it was just so easy for him to get under her skin. Watching her flustered expression when he would get to close or ask personal questions. He truly enjoys her company, she seems to almost understand. Although he would rather not teach her the other aspects of the job such as examining a body she always stands close enough to observe while not getting in the way of his work and when he sneaks a look over his shoulder at her she always has a look of fascination on her face.

***

It's so cold, colder than she has ever been before. It's hard to breathe, she gasps but it's not getting any easier. She can feel herself sinking further into the icy depths. Wake up…wake up..wake ..

"Wake up dearie." She opened her eyes to feel Undertaker shaking her awake. 

He brings his hand to her face gently stroking her cheek and wiping away the tears that leaked from her eyes.

"You were screaming in your sleep and hyperventilating."

What was that dream? It was horrible she never felt so much pain and so frightened.

"Don't worry you are safe here." He pulls her into tight embraces rubbing his hand across her back comforting her.

Normally she pushes him away or rejects his affections but now she melts into his comforting embrace. 

"Do you want to tell me what happened? I'm more than happy to listen."

She lets out a huff into his chest and mumbles incoherently.

"You're going to have to speak up, dear."

"It was scarry…dark…cold…i..I couldn't breathe….and I couldn't move…." Her words turn into a fit of sobs.

Undertaker continues rubbing her back in an effort to comfort her.

"There is no need for those tears. You are not there anymore. You are safe here."

He pulls her into his lap holding her close to him until the sobbing turns quiet and her breathing levels out signaling her returning to rest.

He shifts her body to get a look at her face not ready to let go of her just yet. 

"Whatever am I going to do with you." He says with a smile.

[haven-is-happy]

How Battle Changes: Wolffe

Chapter 4

Pairing: Dogma x Jedi!reader, platonic Wolfpack,

Chapter description: In hyperspace, heading to yet another battle, you talk to Wolffe in darkness

Warnings: reader has very little mental health stability, thoughts of death, jedi code (oof),

Wordcount: 1,1 k

Masterlist

The longer the war goes, the more you regret not being an archivist.

While it is true that Plo Koon is among the most peaceful and honourable jedi, even his ideals have to lay waste beneath the hungry jaw of war.

Before the war, you had a choice. Jocasta Nu could have taken you under her wing, so you could become the next overseer for the Archive after she wanted to rest. 

But you chose your master, and now you are in a battleship in hyperspace, heading into battle.

“Wolffe?” 

His head shoots up from the bunk to look at your own in the dark. Even if you are a padawan, you insist on sleeping in the same room as the men. You calm their dreams and enjoy their company. A soul too good in nature to be wielding a lightsaber into skirmishes. A soul too good to command an army of child soldiers into war.

“Yes, adi’ka?”

Your voice is thin and quiet. “Do you ever regret a choice you have made?” 

He inhales and puffs out air. You have told him long ago that you appreciate his blunt nature, but he still wants to sugarcoat this thought even a little with a simple joke.

“I don’t think I have had much of a choice about anything in my life.”

You sigh heavily. The silence weighs more on you than on him. You want to say you are sorry, but what would you be sorry for? Wolffe doesn’t like being pitied.

You want to say you are sorry for so much. For not fighting more when the clone army was brought into action, for not marching into the senate chamber and screaming at the senators until your lungs give out for every soldier’s death this unnecessary conflict leads to.  

“There is no way out of this, is there?” 

He doesn’t know if you mean the war, or the choice you have made - even if he can’t fathom what that choice is - or this particular siege on a faraway Outer Rim planet. Hell, even you yourself don’t recognize the difference anymore.

“I could have been an archivist,” there is an edge of tears in your voice as you continue, “but I chose to train under master Plo before the war. His voice was so warm… I miss it. He’s so tired now. He doesn’t say it to me, but I feel it in the force. He’s still so kind, but...” 

Wolffe thanks whatever god or gods there are that he can’t feel people through the force. He knows the General doesn’t want to be in the situation he is, but to even feel it every time you see him and to be able to compare with him before the war must be a special kind of torture.

“It’s like losing your father to a tumour over the years. It grows and grows and feeds until there’s nothing left but a husk of who the person once was,” he finishes the thought for you. He has never outright called Plo Koon his father, but the bond they share… it makes him think of foreign compassion he has never had.

And neither have you. Ripped from your own parents, then taken in and trained from an age that most beings can’t even read at. At least he never knew what it was like to have a mother or a father, but you will forever crave the vague affection from the hazy childhood memories.

"I sent a comm to Dogma a few hours ago, telling him I love him," you confess. 

You don't know if you say it out of the misplaced Jedi-guilt of your relationship or the guilt of hiding something like this from a man you consider your big brother.

Wolffe lets out a non-committal hum. He knows you and Dogma have been meeting up in secret as friends (or at least you have assured him of that). Your demeanour has slowly changed, some days lighter than air in the clouds.

Some days, you just stare into the wall after looking over the galactic news. He can hear your gears turning. You specifically do it in places without the General present. You think he hasn't noticed it, but he does.

If you stare too long, your bottom lip wobbles and tears slip down from the corner of your eyes.

"Did he answer yet?"

You sigh heavily.

"I don't want to check."

The seconds tick by. Wolffe doesn't count.

Later on, when reminiscing of this conversation, he scolds himself for not seeing the obvious. Even if you're whispering, any of his brothers could have been awake. 

He swears by his boys, none of them are tattletails.

But you still should have a healthy amount of paranoia, enough to not admit breaking the jedi code out in the open.

And yet… the usual carefulness of a seasoned jedi padawan was nowhere to be seen.

He should have guessed something was wrong, although the issue was glaringly obvious minutes later.

He never asked any of his men if they were awake. After the mission, he mostly didn't need to, none of them would remember after the hell they have seen.

“If I don’t make it, give my lightsaber to-” “Shut up!”

The force of his voice makes you flinch in your bed. He sits up (or you presume, as the pitch black doesn’t let you see anything) after he barks the command out.

“Wol-” “No! No, I won’t kriffin hear it!” 

You're pretty sure his volume wakes up a few of his brothers. Somehow, your cheeks are wet and your hands are trembling next to your body. There is no energy left in you to stand up and leave the conversation.

"Alright," you whisper out, more to yourself than him.

"I'll give the saber to her myself then."

The damning silence doesn’t help.

“To who?” asks a voice from one of the bunks in the room.

You fight the urge to outright sob. Even if master Plo told you multiple times that emotions aren’t shameful and expressing them in healthy ways is encouraged, you still feel weak in front of your men. For them to just hear you admit you broke the jedi code and are thinking of leaving the order… right before a big battle.

“Ahsoka. She’s a good kid, I want her to be better than me.”

There, in the black of hyperspace, Wolffe knows the war has broken you.

“What about Dorin? Master said he’d take us to see the sages and their temples.” You sigh in response.

“He has been promising that for two years. I don’t fault him, we never get any down-time. I just…” you trail off and move around in your bed, now staring at the bunk above you.

It felt like talking you down from the ledge. After the battle, all Wolffe has to do is say a single sentence.

“Talk to them, buir.”

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

[diamondcitydarlin]

far be it from me to interrupt the unnecessary character hate train some folks in this fandom insist on having but I have to say, what seemed a little unnecessary but still somewhat understandable from a separate POV in season 1 just doesn't make any sense now- that is, of course, a time-honored fandom pasttime of trying to force a character into the role of villain against the actual narrative. it's nothing new ofc I've seen it happen in just about every fandom I've been in and I've learned that there usually isn't a point in trying to debate with people that have made up their minds this way and with the way I've tagged this I'm probably just preaching to the choir but like...it seems to me this whole season is ALL about being flawed, the ways in which every character in the cast (beloved or otherwise) has flaws and issues that have hurt others, but most significant, the ways in which a person can grow and learn and mend and still deserve to be loved despite everything. this isn't really a story where you can pick out the 'good ones' with completely clean moral slates from those you've decided are irredeemable unless you're choosing to ignore the actual themes being presented (which like, fine, but that's a choice of interpretation that goes directly against what's actually there). Everyone has been victim of someone else. Everyone at this point has inflicted some kind of hurt on someone else. Stede hurt Ed, Ed hurt Stede, Ed hurts Izzy, Izzy hurt Ed, Ed hurt Lucius, Lucius hurt Black Pete and so on and so on and so on. There's really no one here who is just a completely blameless uwu victim and that's actually a good thing because most of us just fucking aren't either, as much as we may want to believe that or think of ourselves as morally superior to others bc of fictional characters we like or don't or whatever, as much as we may be caught up in our own victimhood (which I absolutely get I've found myself there many times too) we're all flawed, we've all hurt people, there's no getting through life without doing it at some point. it's not really about having or trying to manufacture the image of a clean moral slate, it's about learning and growing and trying to do better the next day and accepting those flaws with a gentle grace. the sooner some of yall wrap your minds around that truth the better off you're going to be, and maybe a good start is learning from these flawed, imperfect, sometimes hurtful characters that we've grown to love because we see ourselves in their actions.

some poignant takeaways from the last couple of eps I think are 1) when Fang suggests to Ed he should try sitting with himself for a bit instead of trying to talk through and shallowly justify everything. I think everyone can benefit from doing this, as so often we think of things from an external perspective rather than internal. It can be hard to introspect rather than blame the world or others and construct little superficial rituals that make us feel momentarily superior (like, idk, deciding one character in a show is the 'bad guy' and anyone who likes him is bad but not you you're not bad bc you don't like him so you must be a better person even though this involves you picking fights and harassing people trying to enjoy themselves, idk, just a random example). It's so much harder to ask yourself why you feel a certain way in the first place, to ask yourself if it's possible that you see aspects of yourself in a character you despise that you're not willing to face within, things about yourself you've buried deep and pretend don't exist at the cost of being 'morally superior'. It's possible, isn't it? Would it hurt to be still for a moment and think about that? I mean, maybe it would, quite possibly it would hurt a lot at first, but I think it's worth it in the end, far more than the effort to put up a morally superior front that no one even has.

the other one that I think the people I'm actually addressing won't appreciate because of who it involves- when Izzy gives Lucius the carved shark and explains that not moving on is worse than doing what is necessary to actually move on. Not necessarily advocating for lying to oneself (tho if I were a more reckless person I might say this can be a genuine bandaid tactic when you're in survival mode and just need to get to the next day, I get that too) but I do think there's a good point here about learning to let go of the things that only gnaw away at us inside. holding on to anger and spite can feel like a form of justice in the short term, but over time it only corrodes the host. at some point, at some time, to truly heal we have to figure out how to let go of certain things, if only so it won't poison us further. Lucius threw Ed overboard the same way he did to him, but ultimately it didn't help, did it? What changed was seeing the way his obsession with his hatred hurt the man he loved, what changed was introspection.

So, idk, really good show, very educational and emotionally aware and I think some of us could benefit from paying more attention to what's actually there than what we want to believe. Idk, it's a thought.

[shibalen]

♡ 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒖𝒑 𝒇𝒐𝒓 @chaosmarshmallow

i match you with . . .

𝑪𝑰𝑬𝑳 𝑷𝑯𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑶𝑴𝑯𝑰𝑽𝑬 !!

between your outgoing personality and Ciel's refrained demeanour, i'd say you make a pretty dynamic couple.

that said, i can definitely see you hating his guts at first lmao

outside social events he acts like he's better than everyone else and that silver-tongue of his makes him way too two-faced for your taste. and to Ciel, you might look like another quiet kid he's got no business with.

but i do like this pairing because it has such enemies-to-friends-to lovers energy! you share underlying similarities such as having high expectations for yourselves and valuing uniqueness and loyalty.

there is comfort in knowing even a seemingly dislikabale person shares such human flaws with you. while Ciel acknowledges your high ambition, he never asks you of anything beyond your abilities.

he sucks at praising others but know he's proud of you as you are, so rest up.

gradually, Ciel begins to appreciate your intelligence and long talks—after tiring days he finds comfort in them. it is absolutely beyond him why at first, but that makes it all the more adorable once he realises.

Ciel makes for quite a good listener so rest assured (´◡`❁) and although he rarely rants himself, you are one of the few people he can go vent to should he need.

your conversations can become very interesting once you get into it because you're both knowledgeable in similar types of fields. your questions may throw him off at times but there are very few things Ciel can't find an answer to, so he'll engage in all your topics.

sometimes these talks escalate into heated but respectful debates which is always fun for the rest of the mansion staff, it's like having their very own drama series hoho.

plus, if you're interested in learning even more, like Latin or psychology, Sebastian can tutor you :)

Ciel really enjoys your style (read: thinks it's super pretty and that it looks perfect on you) and can certainly have respect for people who put effort into their appearances.

in addition, being beside the Earl of Phantomhive means it's pretty much a requirement to be able to present yourself well.

have no doubt, he will make your collection of accessories bigger with the highest quality jewellery. your wardrobe will be filled with clothes you love! he insists you deserve nothing less.

this leads me to believe gift giving is one of Ciel's love languages (seriously, you have all the most delicious teas and cakes to sample even) along with quality time.

the fact that you can speak so many languages is amazing in his eyes, and it adds to the many reasons why he appreciates and respects you.

♡ 𝑴𝑬𝑬𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮

ahaha like i said, it took a while for you two to begin seeing eye-to-eye.

you were the only daughter of a high-ranked officer in the Yard, having grown up with three brothers. it would've been an understatement to say you were under the pressure to preform just as well as your siblings when it came to preforming in education and discipline.

yet instead of having a bizarrely large sense of justice like most of your family, you were more interested in the psychology of serial killers. that was your reason for wanting to follow in the similar line of as your father, because you were fascinated and wanted to learn more.

you officially met Ciel while in-training, observing the officers' duties. of course, you had heard of the Watchdog of the Queen previously, but seeing him arrive to the scene of a crime in flesh was completely different.

you were excited to meet him at first, and although he was nothing but professional, your sharp intuition didn't like something about him; he gave off an aura of death.

as you continued to meet him at different social events or in work, you found his demeanour not to be particularly pleasant either. you didn't understand how the adults fell for his charade of pleasantries and smiles.

however, overtime Ciel began to suspect that there was something more to you than just another person finding him dislikabale. and he was right, you were questioning nit only him but also his source of power.

this turned into game of sorts between you, keeping your eyes on the other in an attempt to gain information.

i suppose this is one of the ways to learn more about each other, but things don't always go according to plan, as we know :)

♡ 𝑩𝑳𝑼𝑹𝑩𝑺

he used to get really dramatic and flustered at your hugs and cuddles, but after seeing you going to hug Soma, Finnian and Mei-Rin for comfort, Ciel found he had a bit of a jealous bone in his body.

afterwards he agreed to your gestures to an extent and both of you were happy ♡

can't admit it but he is very sensitive about being shorter than you. he makes up for most of the inches by having a huge af ego tho.

as i mentioned, quality time is one of the ways Ciel shows he loves you, because as busy as he is, he eventually learns the value of it just being the two of you.

he takes you shopping to the most exaggervant of boutiques and cafés in London.

in turn, you find the most scenic of places to take him to, and your walks there often end up with Sebastian interrupting you to remind you of dinner/lunch. he's doing it on purpose

imagine a beautiful sunset in a garden full of flowers. you've just finished talking and Ciel is feeling more at peace than he has in years. you are taking a second to just breathe and embrace this moment.

Ciel: ahem, Nienke, i need to tell you—

Sebastian: *appears right in front of you upside-down, hanging from a tree branch* My Lord, Lady Nienke. Your dinner has been prepared :)

cue aggressive Ciel cursing

and if that wasn't enough, the servants love spying on you and cheering you two on~ each will take turns giving Ciel the most awful courting advice. someone pls help them.

yeah, by now you're aware this household is far from normal.

in the end, though he is still quite blunt and at times unnecessarily temperamental, Ciel sticks to his somewhat awkward but caring approach.

will play the violin for you if you ask (once he, well, actually knows how to play well)

Pluto will finally get some doggo friends if you ever bring your dogs over! dw, he's trained to be nice to them.

your afternoon tea breaks are so peaceful whenever you come to visit because Ciel will usually take a break from his stubborn ways to be with you.

"oh, has the ever so busy Earl taken time off his schedule just to entertain a simple guest such as myself?"

"please, you know i dislike mere courtesy calls."

only he has the ability to make a compliment sound like a witty remark. forgive him though, he's just embarrassed.

your fluffiness is contagious, so while dear demon butler might be weary of you, Ciel certainly sleeps better at night ♡

𑁍 𝑱𝑬𝑾𝑬𝑳𝑳𝑬𝑹𝒀 𝑩𝑶𝑿

— favourite memory with you

Ciel is not good with wilder dates since he has a reputation to uphold and can be quite stiff. you showed him, however, that doing something more impulsive every now and then can be good for you, and it all started one march evening. Ciel had invited you to a ball where his true goal was to uncover a dangerous, high-class drug dealer and their stash of lethal substances. while Sebastian was searching the rooms for evidence, you two looked for the criminal. however, mingling in social circles got boring and futile, so you dragged Ciel outside into the maze gardens to strategise (*cough* and play and feed the ducks *cough*). it was there that you witnessed a secret deal being made by your target, drawing the case to a close. Ciel was pleasantly surprised (and truthfully glad to have followed you cause he's introverted just like you) and thus admitted that you had preformed very well.

— favourite place to kiss you

as a gentleman, Ciel insists the only proper answer is the back of your hand. in all honesty though it's your forehead. maybe partially because it makes him feel taller lmao but mostly he feels like he can protect you and keep you safe from the danger that surrounds his hectic life. it's somewhat a rare gesture but it's one if his ways to also tell you he's proud of you.

— favourite nicknames to call you by

very confidently i can say 'darling' and 'dear'. these may sound overused but coming from Ciel who has his way with words, i don't think anyone courted by him would mind being called those. he uses them sparingly but your heart surges every time. of course, your own name is still at the top of his list (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

᪥ 𝑷𝑯𝑶𝑻𝑶 𝑩𝑶𝑿

"I like the way you look at me / like you are / going to talk to me / or devour me / and I am fine with either." — N.R.Hart

♡ runner up: Joker

note: here you are! Ciel is so funny so it was fun thinking about this matchup, you'd be so iconic. i hope you liked it, and thank you for your patience! remember to rest, you're doing amazing ♡

[alycosworld]

Tainted

Scaramouche X Reader

WARNING: mentions of (nearly) sexual assault

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A/N: I seem to have more angst/comfort ideas for genshin but I'm not sure why...also, I'm on holiday in a foreign country! I have no work and I'll probably spend all my nights on Tumblr after exploring the city in the day, so please please please send in some requests! I'm bored and although they might take some time, they might help me get back into writing more regularly. I'm pretty sure this is gender neutral but if I made a mistake, feel free to tell me. This has NOT been checked for any errors (I'll get around to it at some point).

I'm not sure if Scaramouche is ooc, since he doesn't say anything that nice in the game or in any official works, but I definitely think he has the capacity for it. And I like soft Scar <3.

If at any point you feel uncomfortable, PLEASE DO NOT READ ON. I felt a little icky after writing the assault bit so do not force yourself to read any further or read at all. I do not want to make anyone reading this unhappy. Any victims of sexual assault or harassment, I hope you heal

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Keep walking. Just keep walking. Get home as fast as possible.

Avoid dark spots, avoid all people, avoid secluded areas. Just get home now.

That's what you told yourself after it happened. Archons, you didn't even know how you should feel. Ashamed? Angry? Disgusted? Upset? Confused? Afraid? The amalgamation of these emotions just made everything worse. You felt sick to your stomach. You wanted to cry and scream and vomit and disappear all at the same time.

You felt like you were covered in grime and you don't even know how you managed to get away. You should've done something, anything! But in the moment, you couldn't.

Your day had started normally. You went to the Adventurer's Guild in Inazuma, doing your commissions and taking up a few extra quests to help people out. Even though you were walking home later than normal, you didn't think much of it. Until somehow, you lost your way. In the dark, things became a little more vague and confusing, so you ended up taking a left and ending up in a dark alleyway between two dimly lit buildings.

You walked through, lost in your own thoughts, until you heard some chuckling and some incoherent remarks made by someone exiting one of the buildings out a back door and into the alleyway.

Glancing up, you saw that the person was a man - quite tall and well built with flushed cheeks: he was clearly not sober. You paid him no mind, staring at the ground as you continue to walk, determined to get home to see your boyfriend, Scaramouche. Though he wasn't one to worry, knowing that you could handle yourself, you did want to see him as soon as possible.

"Well, what do we have here?" The man asked, and you looked up at him again, tilting your head in confusion but staying silent.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing out here all alone?" He asked, a suspicious smirk on his face.

"I'm going home." You said firmly, not wanting to give him any ideas.

"Oh? A handsome young thing like you, going home all by themselves? Let me walk you, I promise I don't bite." He continued, clearly not getting the hint.

"I'm alright, but thank you for the off--"

"Stop being such a fucking tease! Wearing an outfit like that, you're begging for it." He pinned you against the wall despite your attempt to politely refuse any moves he tried to make. He caught your arms above your head and harshly shoved one of his legs between yours.

"Don't like to me, hon, you know you want this." He whispered huskily. You had fought countless hilichurls, abyss mages and monsters far more intimidating and dangerous than that man that day, but you couldn't seem to move. All you could manage was a fearful 'please, don't do this'. Struggling was futile, for some reason you couldn't escape his grasp. You had fought beasts ten times this man's size but violating you like this? It made you break.

He gripped you harshly and even managed to kiss your neck a couple times, making the tears stream down your face uncontrollably, until he heard some voices. You recognised them immediately: members of the Adventurer's Guild. He must be known it too because he stopped as soon as he heard, offering you a sickening grin and scuttling away before you could react.

"We'll finish this some other time, sweetheart. I promise."

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You didn't get any help from the Adventurer's Guild members who you heard, instead opting to rush home as soon as possible, trying to figure out what to do next.

The only solution in your mind was to crawl into your lover's arms and tell him what had happened. You didn't want anyone else to know - you know you could trust Scaramouche and you knew he would help you.

But he didn't.

You got home and wiped your tears before entering the house, hoping to look somewhat presentable despite having experienced such an impactful event. You dropped your belongings carelessly, not flinging at the loud sound they made as they hit the floor. You immediately made your way to the guest room Scaramouche had turned into an office of sorts, for him to work on Fatui business. The bedroom door was open and empty and he was nowhere to be found on the first floor, so that was the only other place he could've been. You were relieved to see him sitting at the desk, deep in thought with some maps and other sheets of paper laid out in front of him.

"Scar, I--"

"Not now, (Y/N), I'm busy." He said hot even bothering to look up at your frazzled and shattered state.

"I know but, please, Scar. While I was--"

"If you know that I'm busy, why enter in the first place? I'm working. Leave me alone." He said harshly. You didn't say anything, instead opting to nod silently and close the door. Since this was the first time you had experienced this pain and discomfort from being touched and defiled in such a way, you decided that maybe you should put it aside. After all, maybe it was something so jarring. Maybe it didn't matter. Maybe Scaramouche's nonchalance was justified. In a twisted way, you blamed yourself for overreacting and decided to just forget about the incident. If it didn't mean enough for Scaramouche to even look at you, it clearly wasn't something worth fretting over. You were just exaggerating, right?

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You tried you absolute hardest not to let the incident bother you, but you unknowingly started changing your habits to prevent what had occurred from happening to you again.

"Wearing an outfit like that, you're begging for it..."

You started wearing less revealing clothing, going as far as wearing gloves at some point and covering your neck with collars and scarves through the hot weather.

"We'll finish this some other time, sweetheart. I promise."

Initially, you just avoided dark or secluded places, even when you were with other people, but eventually, you were too scared to leave home at all. You didn't leave the confines of your small garden and if someone passed by, you would quickly hide yourself away. When Scaramouche had unknown guests and colleagues over, you would hide in your bedroom and make him promise not to mention you or acknowledge your existence in the slightest.

You even started taking longer showers and refused to bathe with Scaramouche, confusing him since you used to enjoy it so much. But you wouldn't let him see you in such a vulnerable state now that you were contaminated. You didn't want him to know that you had been tarnished in such a vulgar way, and you spent long moments scrubbing at the parts the stranger had touched. You were worried that Scaramouche would blame you for being assaulted - because in a sick way you thought it was your fault, despite having been nothing wrong. You had twisted the story in your mind to make it seem like you were responsible for the crime committed against you.

Eventually, Childe had to visit for business purposes, but you had become good friends with the eleventh Fatui Harbinger since he was friends with-- well, he and Scaramouche had a relationship, to say the least.

"So where's (Y/N)? Normally they're all over you and making you as embarrassed at possible." Childs grinned, and Scaramouche just frowned and narrowed his eyes.

"They're in our room. They don't really want to see anyone right now." Scaramouche said. Even though you told him not to mention you anymore, since you were so hellbent on avoiding all human interaction, he thought it would be okay to tell Childe. He was your friend too, after all.

"Is something wrong? What happened?" Childe asked, concern in his eyes.

"I don't know. They've been avoiding everyone, including me. They barely talk to me and insist on sleeping downstairs." Scaramouche confessed.

"Let me talk to them."

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Childe exited your room after hearing what to had to say, and he was disturbed and sympathetic, at the very least. Scaramouche saw his wide-eyed, grim expression when he exited the room and immediately had questions.

"What?" Scaramouche asked.

"I'll come back tomorrow to continue our work." Childs said, referring to the business he originally came for.

"But we have to--"

"Scar?" Scaramouche stopped all his trains of thought and turned to the sound of your voice. It was hoarse but still as beautiful as ever. He knew you had been crying from your puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

"I think you have other matters to take care of." Childe winked, before giving Scaramouche an informal two-fingered salute and showing himself out.

As soon as the door closed, Scaramouche turned his attention to you, not coming too close in case you didn't want to be near him.

"Yes, Love?" He asked, more concerned than you had ever seen him.

"Can I talk to you? If you're busy, that's okay, it's not that impor--"

"I'm not busy." He shook his head, and you offered him a sad and grateful smile before sitting on the edge of the bed while he took a seat on a nearby chair.

"So, uhm, a couple of days ago I was walking home and I kind of got lost...so I tried taking this alleyway and--" You stopped yourself, meeting Scaramouche's attentive gaze before continuing.

"There was a guy. And he-- he t-touched me. I-- I didn't know what to do. I could've easily fought back but I just got scared and froze up because that's never happened to me before and he kept saying that I wanted him-- but I didn't! I swear, I didn't. I know it sounds bad since I didn't stop him but I really tried, I just couldn't. And he started k-kissing me...here," You gestured to the spots on your neck that you could still feel being violated.

"And I felt so horrible and he didn't go any further because some people were coming, so I ran home. I-I...I didn't know what to do but I felt like I should tell you because I thought you would help me, but you said you were busy so I just-- It-tried to brush it off but I just couldn't get it out of my head! And before I got away, he told me that he'd come back and finish me off and so I didn't want to go outside anymore in case I ran into him. And I started to cover up since he said I was asking for it because of what I was wearing and then I just got scared and I felt dirty. I tried so hard to forget and clean myself but it kept coming back-- I can still feel him on me! I hated it, I still hated it! You have to believe me, I wasn't trying to get him to notice me, I just..." You broke down after finishing what you had to say. You had already been crying since you told Childe, but now you were choking out sobs and your face was drenched. Scaramouche stood up from his chair and sat next to you on the bed, a safe distance away just in case you still weren't comfortable with being touched.

"I believe you. I know you're not like that." Scarsmocuhe started calmly. In all honesty, he wanted to interrupt you as soon as you said that this man approached you. His blood was boiling and he was ready to murder this man for you but kept himself in check because you didn't need senseless violence or revenge right now, you needed comfort. What hurt him the most was that you were blaming yourself because he didn't bother listening to what you had to say on what was probably the worst day of your life.

"It's not your fault you were touched like that. You are not to blame, at all. I-- I should've listened to you when you came to me - as soon as I turned you say I thought something was wrong but I didn't bother asking about it. That's entirely my fault." He admitted, which surprised you. It took Scaramouche a lot to admit his mistakes, but for you? He didn't care. You constantly put up with his sour attitude, he can definitely listen to you and admit he was wrong.

"You sure? Because I still--"

"I'm sure." He said simply.

"But why did you start avoiding me?" He asked, wanting to understand the situation entirely.

"Well, because..." You started, unsure if he would get angry if you told him. While you were contemplating, he offered you an encouraging expression. It wasn't a smile, but it was more than enough to put you at ease.

"I didn't want you to think I was tainted. Of course, you wouldn't want to be near me after that had happened." You sighed, wiping up the last of your tears.

"You really are an idiot, you know?" He said, but after seeing the clueless and almost hurt look on your face, he immediately wanted to take it back. He didn't mean to be insensitive, he just...well, he often explained positive emotions with his very wide negative vocabulary.

"No, I didn't-- uhm..." He mentally cursed himself for not knowing what to say, but you didn't interrupt him and made a small gesture for him to keep going.

"What I mean to say was, I don't think that you're tainted or anything like that. And I still...want to be...near you-- eugh!" He pretended to be grossed out at his own words in true Scaramouche fashion, but he knew you knew he didn't really mean it and was beyond delighted when he saw you giggle at his facial expression.

He sighed and acted angry as he opened his arms ever so slightly. You noticed the movement and quirked an eyebrow when he hesitated.

"Is it okay if I come closer?" Scaramouche asked, unsure if you wanted to be touched after the incident.

Your heart swelled at his care and then you slowly watched as he stiffly wrapped his arms around you comfortingly. Although you had hugged and cuddled on countless occasions, he still wouldn't stop being so robotic unless you did something. It made you laugh and he pulled away slightly to glare at you, so you decided to just pull him back in and hug back.

And when you relished in the touch of another human being, the touch of the person you love, you began to cry. The last time anyone willingly touched you was in that alleyway, and so to have someone be so gentle with you and have no bad intentions, you were overwhelmed with emotion.

Scaramouche must've felt your tears staining his clothing and skin, and quickly pulled away with poorly hidden concern in his eyes.

"Are you okay?" He asked, but you just continued to sob and nod.

"I love you!" You choked out. He sighed and gently patted your back.

"I...love you too." He said, before making another expression of mock disgust. He slowly moved to hold both your wrists in his hand and kiss down to your neck, pulling you into his lap with your legs straddling one of his.

You soon realised that he was covering up the placed the stranger had touched you with his own ministrations, effectively replacing the grime you felt you gained after the incident. After you came to that conclusion and Scaramouche was done, he didn't meet your eye, blushing profusely. It was justified since he didn't usually initiate any kind of affection acts, but you just cupped his jaw and kissed his cheek, smiiling at him with purity and a newfound confidence in the both of you.

"Thank you, Scar."

[marvelmusing]

Introductions

Part 2

Pairing: Billy Russo x Fem!Reader

Summary: As the days go on, you and Billy get closer and Dinah continues her investigation. 

Word Count: 3.9K

A/N: I have no idea how I wrote this much for part 2 but here it is! This is also my 200th post, and I’m very nearly at 800 followers so thank you all for the support, and I’m so glad people liked the first part of this and hope this is a good follow up.

Part 1

My Masterlist

You knock three times against the door, and hear Dinah’s ‘come in’. There’s files all over her desk, and a very detailed thought map over her wall - complete with red string and everything. You smile at her as her head perks up to look at you.

“You busy?” You ask her, and she gestures to her office with a laugh. You nod, understanding immediately. “How’s the ribs?” She tosses the file in her hand, and it slaps against the desk as she leans back in her chair.

“Better.” She replies with a small shrug. “What’s that?” She nods to the file in your hand.

“It’s the papers for a deal with Anvil,” you flick open the file, leafing through the pages. “Looks like Billy talked to Procurement.”

“Billy, huh?” You look at her, and she smirks at you.

“Mr Russo.” You correct yourself, and her smirk widens. “Anyway, they’ve sent some paperwork over and my name is down as their point of contact.” She frowns lightly, raising a brow in your direction.

“And?”

“Well, you’re the one who suggested Anvil for training. Don’t you want the credit of finalising it?” She nods, thinking it over. She leans over to her computer, her brow creasing as she scans over her calendar.

“Will it be through email?” You shake your head.

“They insist on in person appointments. Russo’s assistant says he’s free all morning.” She sighs,

“I don’t think I’ve got the time.”

“Do you want me to do it?”

“Don’t you have that op to monitor this afternoon?” You nod,

“Yeah but,” you check your watch. “I have time to visit Anvil before then.”

“You sure?” You flash her a reassuring smile.

“Absolutely. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“Thanks, I appreciate this.” You nod, heading towards the door. 

“No problem.” You turn back with your hand on the door handle, a smirk tugging at your lips, “Don’t work too hard.” She shoots you a look, and you laugh before closing the door behind you.

»»---------------------►

Anvil headquarters is bustling with life. You were used to people rushing around - at Homeland there were always leads to follow, people to question, things to investigate. But at Anvil, you can’t help but feel that it has more life to it. Sometimes at work, you can’t help but feel stifled by the anxiety of it all - the overbearing superiors and not knowing who you can fully trust with certain things.

You check in with the security at the front doors before being directed to Billy’s assistant. She smiles brightly at you, offering you a brief tour of the building. You thank her, but insist that you haven’t got long. She nods and leads you towards Billy’s office. From what you can see of Anvil, you’re impressed. The building Billy had chosen was an old warehouse but it was much nicer than the one used for the training session the last time you saw him. Large windows look out onto the main part of the warehouse, which acts as a training ground for the agents. They’re all working hard, but you can see how much they’re enjoying the work - and the people around them.

You follow Billy’s assistant through the building, and she leads you past a warren of office cubicles. It’s a stark contrast from the training grounds that lie just a corridor away. She opens a doorway before gesturing up some stairs.

“Mr Russo’s office is just through there.” She tells you, pointing at a door on the landing. You nod with a smile and thank her. You knock gently and you hear Billy call out for you to come in.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting Billy’s office to look like - but you’re pleasantly surprised. It’s nothing like a usual corporate office. It’s stylish and modern. There’s glass tables and leather chairs. The wall behind Billy is the rustic brick of the warehouse, giving the room an industrial feeling. He looks up from the work at his desk and smiles when he sees you.

“I hope I’m not intruding, Mr Russo.” His smile widens as he stands and walks closer to you. You meet him halfway, and he offers his hand for you to shake.

“Not at all, always a pleasure to see a familiar face.”

“And that’s why my name was the point of contact? You wanted a familiar face?” You tease lightly with a smile. His eyes lower to your lips for a moment, and your heart flutters. Then he smirks.

“Among other things.” He steps back, gesturing towards his desk. “Please, have a seat.” He sits back behind his desk and you take a seat in front of him. You pull a file from your bag and hand it to him.

“I filled everything in, and I also included a couple of suggestions. I know Anvil hasn’t catered to anything US based on this kind of scale yet. I hope that’s okay?” He nods, his eyes scanning over the pages.

“‘Course. As long as it’s nothin unreasonable.” A smile tugs at his lips, before he continues reading. He nods along to the words on the page, and it doesn’t take him look to look over your proposal. “This is very thorough, you’re very good at this.” Your cheeks warm at his praise. “A hard worker too, from what I’ve gathered.”

“You done that Google search on me?” You tease, referring to your last conversation that night at the bar. His smile matches yours as he shrugs,

“Let’s just call it professional intuition. Homeland is lucky to have you.”

“Not trying to poach me are you, Mr Russo?” 

“The choice is all yours darlin. Now should we get down to business?”

The two of you spend the rest of your meeting going over the training programme for Homeland. Despite how easy it is for you to joke and tease each other, you find it just as easy to work with him. You’re both very strategically minded, Billy has a lot of experience, and you bring up a lot of points that he hadn’t considered. It isn’t long before you’ve drawn up a rather impressive training programme, and a year long contract with Anvil that could easily be extended should your superiors be impressed with the results. Billy looks incredibly pleased. He’d mentioned how much a US contract would mean to his employees - the majority of them served their country and would be proud that their company is doing the same - but you can see how much this means to Billy. You feel a tiny smidge of pride that you had a small hand in, what could hopefully be, one of many contracts that Billy would be able to secure. As you’re sliding some papers into your bag Billy asks you,

“Are you free tonight?”

“I should be.” You say lightly, raising a brow at him.

“Can I take you out for a drink? Perhaps somewhere nicer than last time.”

“What are you talking about? I love dirty glasses and sticky bar tops.” You joke, and he grins at you. “But if Mr Russo insists, then I suppose I’ll have to drink at a more respectable establishment.” He leans back in his chair, his head tilted back as he laughs.

“Mr Russo does insist. If you’re free?” You nod, 

“I’ll see you tonight then.”

»»---------------------►

You set your empty glass down heavily. Billy throws you a smirk, but there’s an edge of concern in his eyes.

“That bad, huh?” You smile softly,

“Just a very long day. It went considerably downhill from when I saw you.” The op you had to oversee in the afternoon when sideways, and you’d had to make a few tough calls. Luckily no one was hurt too badly, but a few agents will be in the hospital for a while.

“You sayin I was the highlight of your day?” Your smirk mirrors his own,

“Most definitely.”

“That so?” His smirk widens, and he tips his own drink against his lips. “If it helps, I also had a shitty day.” You laugh softly, and his dazzling smile returns.

“So, how are we going to turn that around?”

“I have a few ideas. Nothing unreasonable.”

“Is that so, Mr Russo?”

Billy drives you back to your apartment, a hand on your thigh the whole way there. He parks his car, and the two of you make your way to the elevator, hand in hand. Once you’ve pressed the button for your floor, Billy’s arms are around you, pulling you close. You grasp a handful of hair and tug his face towards yours. His hand cups your cheek as he murmurs, 

“You want this darlin?” You nod hurriedly, as his lips near yours. The elevator doors open and he steps out of your arms into the corridor. You stare blankly at him for a moment, and he turns to you with a wicked grin. “Which door’s yours?” You shake your head, breezing past him to unlock your door. He steps inside and you shut the door behind you both. You’ve barely turned around before Billy’s lips are on yours. Your head thuds lightly against the door, but you barely even feel it. You barely feel anything but Billy. His mouth works its way against yours, one of his large hands cupping the underside of your jaw as he presses his body over yours. Your hands slide into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. His other hand is holding your hip in a near bruising grip as you grind against him. He groans as you tug on his hair, his own hips bucking, and your entire body is pressed even harder against the door. His lips move to your neck, kissing along your jawline, tracing the shell of your ear as you both catch your breath. He nips at your pulse point, and you whine as his tongue runs over the small mark there. You push his jacket over his shoulders, and he shrugs it off quickly tossing it onto your side table. His lips are back on yours, and he’s pulling into his arms. He slides your coat off your body, and you whimper when he steps away. You frown, leaning heavily against the door. He hangs your coat up on your coat hanger before flashing you a dazzling smile that knocks the air from your lungs. His eyes darken as he advances towards you, and he marvels at how easily you melt into his arms. He presses a firm kiss to your lips before suggesting, 

“Why don’t we take this to the bedroom?” 

»»---------------------►

You wake to a warmth by your side, and an arm draped over your waist. You shift slightly, and the arm tightens around you. 

“G’morning darlin.” Billy murmurs against your cheek, his nose brushing against your skin, and his stubble scraping lightly against your neck. 

“Morning Billy.” His hands slide over your body, and turn towards him. 

“Three nights in a row. This gonna become a regular thing you think?” He teases, pressing a kiss to your lips before sliding out of bed and heading for the bathroom. Billy had stayed over for the majority of the weekend. You’d both slept in on Saturday morning, shared a shower together, then had gone out for lunch, and ordered in for dinner, before spending the night together again. On Sunday, Billy had needed to run some errands, but he took you out to dinner that night, and he had ended up staying over again. In all honesty, it had been the best few days you had had in a long time. 

“I hope so.” You call out quietly, but you’re sure he hears you despite his lack of response. Your phone buzzes on the nightstand and you attempt to reach it without breaching the warmth of your position under the covers. Billy appears, giving you a fond look before handing you your phone. You thank him with a small smile, and you begin to look through your emails as Billy dresses.

“What’s all this?” He asks, a sharpness to his voice that makes you frown. You put your phone down to look at what’s caught his attention. He gestures to the scattered files across your desk.

“I don’t know. Some files that Dinah asked me to look at. I haven’t read them yet.” Your eyes flicker down to the file in his hands.

“This is Frank’s file.” He says, and your frown deepens. He watches your reaction carefully, trying to determine whether you’re being genuine. “What?” You stare up at the ceiling as you think, before shaking your head lightly,

“I don’t get where she’s going with this.”

“I don’t get why she’s so intent on pissin on the memory of a dead man.” He says lowly. His words are harsh, but there’s more hurt than anger in his tone. 

“I’m sorry Billy.” You say softly. He looks down at you, before stepping closer to trace your cheek with his fingers as he sits on the bed beside you.

“You got nothin to be sorry about darlin.” He presses a tender kiss to your forehead. “Unless you have somethin to do with whatever she’s up to?” He asks, but there’s no real accusation in his voice.

“I don’t.” You reassure him, and a small smile pulls at his lips. “And you’d be the first to know if she tried to recruit me for it.” You joke lightly, and Billy’s smile widens which warms your heart. He looks down at the file still in his hand for a long moment, before casting it aside. “You must miss him.” You say quietly, rubbing small circles over Billy’s forearm. He nods faintly.

“Yeah I do.” His fingers drift up your body, before he holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger. You narrow your eyes at him,

“Mr Russo, what do you think you’re doing?” He traces his thumb over your lower lip, a smirk on his face.

“Distractin you.” He remarks, leaning down to kiss you softly. “It workin?” You hum in mock thought,

“I’m not sure. You might need to double your effor-“ Your words are cut off by his lips, and the two of you smile into the kiss as your thoughts of Dinah, Castle, and Homeland melt away. 

»»---------------------►

You and Billy are both busy during the next few days, only meeting every now and then for a brief lunch. Sam invites you and Dinah out for drinks, and after the long week you’re both having, you agree. With a very pointed smile, he insists that you can bring a plus one. You roll your eyes at him, but tell him that you’ll ask Billy if he’s free. You text Billy during your lunch break. 

You: A couple of us are getting drinks after work if you want to come with? I promise Dinah will not interrogate you again. 

Billy: Sounds like fun. And I’ll hold you to that promise darlin. When do you want me to pick you up? 

You share some more details about tonight with Billy. The two of you continue texting throughout your lunch break, talking about your day, his day, people in your respective offices, until you realise you have to get back to work. You bid Billy goodbye, and get on with the rest of your day.

As the evening arrives, Billy picks you up at your apartment and drives to the bar to meet with Sam and Dinah. The four of you get along well, better than you anticipated, Sam’s a funny guy, and Billy is as charming as always. Everyone has their fair share of stories to tell. The bar Sam suggested was a good choice. It’s warm, but not stifling, and cosy yellow light provides a relaxed, intimate atmosphere. To one side of the bar, there’s a pool table, in the corner there’s a large group of people playing cards, and not far from your table there’s a dartboard. Dinah observes the vacant spot where the dart players would stand, and you admit that you’re hopeless at darts - which is quite the contrast to when you’re on the firing range. Billy offers to teach you and you concede. Dinah and Sam encourage you both to go, insisting that they’d prefer to watch.  

“So it’s all in the wrist.” He tells you. You raise an eyebrow at him with a smirk. He ducks his head slightly, an adorable smile on his face.

“The wrist, huh?” He shakes his head.

“You mind gettin your mind outta the gutter for a second, darlin?” You morph your features into a look of shock.

“Who are you and what have you done with Mr Billy Russo?” He laughs, his nose crinkling as he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment.

“Shuddup.” He nudges your shoulder gently. “You wanna learn or not?”

“I do, I do. I’ll behave, promise.” He gives you a look that says he does not believe you one bit but he holds out a dart to you nonetheless. Using just his fingers to turn you, he angles you towards the dartboard. He nudges one of your feet forward a little, one hand moving to your hip. He leans down to talk quietly by your ear,

“Now, the trick is to stand real still.” You nod, fiddling with the dart in your hand before getting ready to throw it. Billy leans closer, his lips practically touching you. “You mind if I guide you?” You swallow hard, before nodding. He leans back a little, a teasing smirk playing at his lips. “You gonna say please, darlin?” You smile, rolling your eyes fondly.

“Please, Billy?” His smirk widens into a smile.

“Atta girl. Now…” You try to ignore the rush of heat to your face, hoping Billy won’t notice. He leans back in, adjusting your arm and holding his hand over your own. You watch his face as he concentrates, his brow furrowing as he ensures your angle is good. You can’t help but stare at the intense look on his face. “It also helps if you’re actually lookin at the target.” He says, his eyes still on the dartboard. You look away from him, your face burning even more now. You can feel his gaze fixed on you as you mumble,

“Yeah, I suppose that makes sense.” You can hear his smirk, and he nudges your hip.

“You found somethin nicer to look at, darlin?” You narrow your eyes at him, before making a show of looking around at the other people gathered in the bar.

“Now that you mention it, Sam’s looking rather dashing tonight.” He swats at your thigh lightly, and you yelp quietly with a small pout.

“Thought you said you were gonna behave.”

“It’s not my fault you’re teasing.” His tongue traces over his teeth as he smirks, and your eyes follow the motion.

“Oh, you want me to be a tease darlin?” You think you might combust if he actually started teasing you. Your entire body tingles as he presses his body against your back, helping you throw the dart. It lands on the board which is a positive, hitting the inner ring - a 17. “A little more force next time darlin.” Billy murmurs against your cheek as he hands you another dart. Whilst his direction is clearly helping, his proximity distracts you to no end, so you’re surprised when your next dart lands on the green ring around the bullseye. Your satisfaction peaks when Billy congratulates you, “Good girl.” Your eyes widen slightly and you turn to meet his gaze. His eyes flicker down, trying to read your body language. “You okay, sweet thing?” Despite all his teasing, Billy wants to check he hasn’t crossed a line. You swallow hard, certain that this man might actually kill you with his words. 

“Yeah I’m good.” You smile at him softly, and he returns your smile instantly. You hear Dinah call out,

“Get a room, you two.” You duck your head in embarrassment, but Billy laughs her comment off. 

“You’ve still got one dart left.” He tells you, holding it out to you. You shoot Dinah a pointed look,

“Yeah, and I have an idea on where to put it.” Billy laughs again, his eyes crinkling in amusement at your insinuation. You turn back to look at the dart board, and Billy presses a kiss to your temple. 

“This one’s all yours, darlin.” He steps back a little, giving you the space to throw on your own. You copy the position that Billy showed you, and throw the dart. It hits the green ring again, not as close as last time but you’re still pleased. You turn to Billy with a wide smile. “A very nice throw.” He says as you collect the darts and put them away. 

“Why thank you, I had a talented teacher.” 

“Is that so?” He smirks, his arm curling around you as you make your way back to Dinah and Sam. The four of you agree to get another round of drinks, so Dinah and Sam head over to the bar, leaving you alone with Billy again. He leans back in his chair as he finishes the last of his drink. “So, you think they’ll be gettin together?” He asks, nodding towards Dinah and Sam as they talk at the bar. You ponder his question for a moment before saying,

“I think it’s too soon to tell. You?” He shrugs,

“Maybe. They seem to get on well enough, and Sam’s a nice guy.” You hum in agreement,

“I’m not sure if Dinah’s the relationship type.” Billy is quiet for a moment, before he asks,

“What about me? Do you think I’m the relationship type?” You pull your eyes from Dinah and Sam to find Billy eyeing you. You tilt your head in thought, before answering,

“I think it depends on the person.” You tell him quietly. “You’re charming and handsome. You could get any girl or guy you wanted, and I’m sure you’ve had your fair share.” There’s humour in your tone that brings a flicker of a smirk to his face.

“You’re not wrong.” Your smile turns fond as you admit,

“But I also think that, when you find your person, they will mean the absolute world to you. And that there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for them.” Billy doesn’t move a muscle, his gaze is fixed on the label of his beer. You begin to worry that you’ve crossed a line, then he moves. He sniffles, his nose crinkling, and he rolls his left shoulder as he glances at the crowd. He still hasn’t looked at you. 

“I’ve always been alone.” He admits. “My mother didn’t want me. I bounced between foster parents and group homes. Then I joined the marines, found myself a family, but even that didn’t last.” His eyes flicker to you for a moment, and he shifts slightly before looking down at the table. “I know, that when people get into bed with me, that they’re not after somethin permanent. So, I’ve always made sure that they don’t see me as that kinda guy.” His eyes finally meet yours, and you hold his gaze, your heart aching for the man in front of you - and the small boy he was. A brief smile tugs at  his lips. “But you saw through all that didn’t you? I don’t know how, but you did.” You reach tentatively for his hand, and he opens his palm to receive you. 

“I’ll stay with you Billy. Until you ask me to leave, I’ll stay.”  

»»---------------------►

Billy Russo Tagslist: @blackbirddaredevil23 @skyfallingstartaylorsversion @restingbitchsblog