#anyway they truly do be healing <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[vero-niche]

top 5 gayest moments from ep10 before we even got to the swan boat date segment

[rosykims]

having a lavellan who is kind of an absolute demon in her own right is so much fun because sure that cut content of "oh solas didnt deserve a happy ending but lavellan did" is lovely and worth centering in the conversation.... but you know what else hits? "oh my god i dont even care anymore" "if this is what it takes for them to both fucking LEAVE thedas then good riddance"

[shorthaltsjester]

sometimes people will say “going dark” and then what they’re actually talking about is just people no longer presenting a carefully constructed version of their emotions and experiences.

like. emotional turmoil is not the same as darkness. laudna in this Fictional Universe that has tangibly different stakes wrt to death and killing than our own, is at best like . morally neutral for what she just did like. man has been secretly trying to kill you, and then just tried to do so again, killing him back is a fair choice. and even if i was someone who is excited by delilah’s inability to escape from the narrative, this shit isn’t about delilah. laudna made a choice. if delilah is back or whatever it’s a choice that laudna made because something in that grants her more control than her existing conditions did. this isn’t some Delilah Takes Over, it’s Laudna Expressly Makes The Choice To Call Forth Something within Herself to remedy the lack of control that’s been thrust upon her. if y’all want to Continue to limit Laudna’s agency (as the cr fandom is so, so want to do when a female character makes a choice that isn’t Good according to some weird system of virtue ethics) go ahead.

likewise with orym. little guy is not “going dark” because he has finally made direct action about his emotional turmoil in dealing with a situation which has similarly left him without control and has also placed him in a position where his stalwart conviction towards protecting and honouring those he loves and has lost alike is constantly met with other people he cares for going well.. what if they had a point/we are killing other peoples loved ones/etc. which like . yeah that might be frustrating and in fact might lead him to go, actually, i can’t afford to try and maintain some abject morality where I carry a locket that will literally only provide guilt. orym is completely committed to his beliefs, the locket and what it represents has never been a limit to what he will do, only a reminder of the consequences of what he might cause in those actions. but they Are at war and orym has a billion things on his plate. he can put down the locket. especially when bor’dor is the explicit manifestation of that locket’s symbolism. the subtext rapidly became the text and orym doesn’t need a reminder. it’s there in the fact that team issylra is walking away with two friends, not three.

these are character who have at every turn denied their own emotions in various forms while still being acutely aware of what they deny, whether that awareness was/is fully realized or not. many of laudna’s early convos with ashton show us that there is some awareness to the lighthearted spooky goth girl and how that persona fades when she thinks too much about what has led her and maintained that reality. likewise the entirety of orym’s story thus far is defined by his grief in a very literal sense, it Has extended from that grief to also the commitment he had to the purpose of figuring out the assassination attempt on keyleth but as we have seen, that purpose has fallen apart. paired with the quasi-reopening of his grief that was getting to see will again only to have to turn away, i don’t think there’s a lack of awareness in orym of how much he hurts. but between his actions and 4SD, that hurt tends to get buried under guilt or Responsibility.

and now, finally, both of them have admitted to that Not in the safety of small introspection or one-on-one conversations but with actions that they cannot shy away from or deny. laudna killed bor’dor and orym encouraged her to. and it Is a complex situation but truly I don’t really think it’s a “going dark” one. because they’re not giving into some overhanging Darkness of Morality™, they’re admitting that they are hurt and have long been hurting.

or, y’know, tldr for those who continue to deny laudna and orym agency or fully villainise them for whatever weird reasons . you could listen to laudna and ashton’s conversation that pretty much lays it out explicitly. laudna claims she’s weak for having chosen to kill bor’dor. ashton denies that and affirms instead that, no, she’s hurt.

[deathbxnny]

Loved your writing of arcane characters saying things they regret during an argument. Would you be willing to do a version with Jayce, Viktor and Silco? I apologize if you don't prefer to write about these characters, you can ignore this

Arcane men saying things they'll regret during an argument. | Viktor, Jayce, Silco x Gn!Reader

Oh, I absolutely am willing to do that, Anon!! These are going to be pretty irredeemable, though, so there is not going to be a part two to this... anyways, enjoy!!<3

Content: Season 2 spoilers!!, heavy angst, hurt/no comfort, break ups, swearing, gaslighting, toxic behavior, sfw

Reader has no mentioned pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》VIKTOR

"This... isn't you anymore, Viktor. A-And I refuse to keep lying to myself like this either!" You hissed out one night, unable to keep it in any longer. You were losing your mind in this compound of his, unable to understand how seemingly no one was able to recognize how wrong everything was. People who were "healed" by him weren't the same after. They turned into robotic and uncanny husks of their old selves.

A terrifying sight that unnerved you deeply. And only you here.

The nail in the coffin was perhaps the skeptical appearance of Councilor Salo. Never in your life had you ever seen him give a damn about anyone but himself. He lived a life of riches and materialism, far from the selfless and minimalistic lifestyle found here. But after your boyfriend healed him of his inability to walk, he suddenly preached the same ideals that everyone else did.

Peace, love, and community.

Those were the important pillars of this idyllic place Viktor had created, and yet you couldn't see past the clear red flags that weaved themselves in their white attire. You were never much of a genius like he was, but it didn't take much brainpower to understand that this was not a great place to be in. No matter how hard he attempted to convince you of that.

"... I'm sorry you feel that way. But I'm afraid I can not follow your reasoning for this claim. I am myself... just someone greater. More meaningful. Isn't that beautiful?" His voice was so gentle and patient in comparison to yours. Something that wasn't unusual to him. But the way he used that tone now made you sick. "Terrifying is a better word, actually... Why can't you see that this is just wrong? You're not healing anyone-" "-But I am. Look around you. Is that not enough for you to finally believe me, my love? I want to create a better world... one in which we can live freely together." Your mind spun, his words ringing in your head dangerously. And you hated every second of it.

This isn't the man you loved anymore. He must have died that fateful day when the sky fell from above, and he covered you with his body to save you. His last act of kindness as your boyfriend and lover before he perished and left behind whoever he was. And you'd be damned if the last good memory got tainted too.

"No. I will not let you play with my mind anymore. I've had enough." You pushed past him, wanting to finally escape this borderline cult. Originally, you had only followed after him because you couldn't bear being without him. Jayce was right, though. He really was different now.

"Hm... it seems like I was right about you after all." You stopped in your tracks yet didn't dare face him. "You truly are not worth saving... you can't grasp the beauty of what I have made. I suppose everyone's claims for your low intelligence were, unfortunately, right. What a shame." How could a devil have such a soothing, loving voice? Why did the monster that now lurked in your shadow have to have your lovers face? The cruelty was too much to bear.

Who would have thought that you'd finally leave him for good after all the years you've taken care of him? This moment felt so surreal and yet ironically freeing as well. The end was near. "Did you... ever even love me?" You asked aimlessly, but didn't wait to hear his answer.

Perhaps if you had, however, you would've seen that sudden spark of surprise in his eyes, as you slipped out of his fingers for good at last.

》JAYCE

You had looked everywhere for him. And after also asking everyone under the sun if they had seen your boyfriend, you had eventually determined that he must've somehow gone missing. Worried sick, it pained you knowing that there wasn't much you could do either, considering that everyone was too busy getting ready for a borderline war and Caitlyn became unreachable as a result. Yet just as you began to lose hope, your dear lover finally returned... but he wasn't the same.

He didn't look the same, nor did he act the same, in fact. He looked so different that it even visibly startled you when you found him rummaging through his once shared laboratory. You had just returned from another wrap around the building in hopes of finding it, and whilst you'd consider yourself lucky this time around, all you now felt was genuine dread.

"Jayce...? What happened to you? I looked for you everywhere and-" You stilled at the intense look he gave you, his face flinching for a moment, as though his mind couldn't comprehend your image. Glancing over at his peculiar weapon of choice, you felt unnerved at how even that looked uncanny. The entire situation was unnerving you deeply, to say the least. "You... You shouldn't be here." He finally muttered, his voice deeper and colder than it ever was. Jayce always had such a fun and warm voice. If you didn't know any better, you would've questioned who he was a while ago.

"Hey... tell me where you were, okay?" You said, trying a more gentle approach as you neared him, eyes focused on his clearly injured leg. Had he been kidnapped? You doubted it. So what made him end up like this? Nothing you could come with explained his appearance. His hair and beard were way longer than they should have gotten in the short span of time he was gone, too.

Reaching down carefully, you tried to inspect his leg, but he seemed less receptive to the idea. Or so you assumed, after he shoved you away roughly and held the hammer to your face at impressive speed. His eyes were glossy, as though he wasn't entirely all there. He was reliving a terrifying moment in his mind, unaware of the horror you were going through. Never could you have ever thought of ending up in this position with him. "Jayce! What the hell are you doing-?" "-Get away! I know what you are... you've been sent by him too, weren't you?" You let out a shriek when he swung the hammer at you, only giving you a fraction of a second to jump out of the way.

Falling onto your behind, you quickly crawled backward and away from him, tears welling up in your eyes. Your scream seemed to at least wake him up, though, as he finally lowered his weapon and blinked at you in surprise. "Fucks sake! What is wrong with you?" You yelled out, yet as fast as his face softened, it hardened again. "... Sorry... I need to leave." Quickly making his way past you, he only barely escaped your presence before you grabbed onto the fabric of his pants. "Why? Where are you going? Why can't you tell me anything?"

The look in his eyes made you shrink away. This wasn't your Jayce anymore. "... The future of everyone in Piltover hinges on me being there on time. Now, make yourself useful for once and get out of my way." Shaking you off harshly, he left you crying on the cold floor of the once lively laboratory, not once looking back.

》SILCO

When you first met Silco, you were both still leading simple lives in the last drop with his brother and all of your other friends in Zaun. The lanes were harsh and, at times, cruel, yet you fought through the agony of it all together. Years down the line later, you find yourself still reminiscing on those heavenly days, particularly those of your lover who had turned for the worst in the time being. And the question of why you didn't listen to Vander's warnings came to mind again then. Perhaps you were just too used to excusing everything his brother did, especially after he had attempted to drown him so horrifically, which left him permanently injured.

But even so... why didn't you just listen? Why did it take so many years for you to finally throw the towel and leave for good? Finally realise that the man you loved was a monster? A disgusting and evil monster who was willing to use the plight of others for his own gain. And for what? Money? Fame? Power? It was all an ego trip you had far more than enough of. Zaun was his playground, and an escape was impossible. You'd be, however damned if you didn't at least try to anyways. Even if just in Vander's honor as a long-awaited apology.

Pushing past the crowd in the stuffy, full Last drop, you finally reached his office upstairs. Not caring about formalities anymore, you knocked and opened the door without awaiting a reply. If death met you behind it, then so be it. "Ah, darling, in a hurry today, aren't you?" "We need to talk. Alone." Short and straight to the point. Raising a brow, he shared a look with Jinx, who was just done giving him his daily "medicine". Oh, how you hated your lover's dearest creation. Shimmer. The exact thing that had ruined your lives for good. But you pushed away your disdain for the task at hand.

Giving Jinx a dismissive wave of his hand, you waited for her to be gone for good before taking a breath to speak. But Silco beat you to it. Always so painfully perceptive. "The answer is no, if you're here asking to leave. I refuse to let you go, dear. You have no one else but me after all. You wouldn't survive on your own." He always underestimated you, so this wasn't an all to surprising response. And if you were just a couple of months younger, you would have maybe agreed and backed off. But you were sick of his games.

"I didn't come here to ask for permission, Silco. I'm here to say goodbye." The slightest, softest crack at the last word gave you away horribly. You certainly didn't expect your feelings for the man to betray you, but even that won't stop you now. Said man just hummed in response as he stood up to face the window. His hands calmly lit a cigar, very much unbothered. But you knew that your sentence had gotten to him anyway with how his hand shook ever so slightly. Out of anger, most likely.

"So you think you can do whatever you want? Leave after you've spent so many years at my side? Your hands aren't as clean as you think they are, darling. Even yours are a bright violet." A reference to the shimmer vials on his desk. He knew how much you hated it, so this felt like a jab. A jab at the deep guilt you felt every day for enabling the death of all of your friends indirectly. If only you had stopped him from the start... then maybe you wouldn't have to feel the dread that ruined you from the inside anymore.

"I've accepted my flaws and sins a long time ago. I may not be better than you... but sometimes, in order to end the cycle, you have to walk away and leave some things behind." You suddenly felt so content, his cold and terrible words not reaching you anymore. You were so close to leaving. So close to leaving Zaun and Piltover like you've always dreamed. But Silco just scoffed in disbelief.

"Hah, don't give me that self-righteous shit... I've been there for you for so many years, dear. I've taken care of you, fed you, and loved you to my best ability for so long. The least you could do is be grateful for my kindness." "So you think I'm a burden?" The silence was deafening, but it was enough to confirm your long-standing suspicions. He had lost his love for you a long time ago. Perhaps the side that loved you so purely drowned in the river with him.

"... Goodbye. I hope one day you can walk away too." You turned and began walking out then, suddenly realising that it's finally over. Shoving your hands into the pocket of your coat, you felt the ticket for the skyship you had to take. "Don't you dare leave. Don't you dare it-" All bark and no bite as usual. There was no stopping you now, and he knew it. He was letting you go after all. You could just hope that one day he'd listen to your words and end the cycle, too.

What a shame that you won't be there at his side to see it, however... maybe in another life then.

[yurunivo]

Synopsis: continuation of this idea (and also subtracting and adding a few of my own) part 2 part 3 part 4

TW: yandere behavior, cult ish behavior, mentions of blood, injuries, torture, SAGAU, inaccurate personalities, bad grammar, english is not my first language, very short

Characters: Natlan cast x Creator!gn!reader (slight yandere Archons too)

You hated this.

All you were doing was playing genshin and then you suddenly got sucked into the game! At first, it was a dream come true, but now you wanted to be out of here as fast as possible. All this suffering just because you looked like someone?

Mondstadt was a no no. The acting grand master found out so quickly, and the knights of favonious were on your tail. Liyue was also a no, the millelith and adepti was also there. Heck, Zhongli came out of retirement just to catch you! Inazuma? Raiden was enough. Fontaine wasn't any better either. You got put on trial, it's only because of plot armour that you managed to survive.

Sumeru was a bit better. The dendro archon found out about your status quickly, due to Irminsul. But, her people were out of her control, so you got hunted down anyway.

The abyss was even worse. Once they sensed that the creator came back, they were ecstatic to kill you. The abyss weren't known for their fondness of the gods after all. Right now, with the amount of times you fought the abyss and the people of teyvat, your entire body was like a piece of paper ready to be blown away.

You were walking to Natlan, as fast as your legs would take you. Your arm was filled with abyssal energy, and you had open wounds all over you. The sand got into your injuries, which really stung. It was hell trying to walk, but the tiny sliver of hope that Natlan would be different would be enough to keep you going. Usually, your wounds healed instantly every time you were injured, but the attacks from the abyss slowed down your healing. You would show your golden blood, but the injuries healed too fast and the people would be too consumed by anger to even notice your golden blood.

How long has it been since the chase started? Like one or two years? You couldn't really tell. Your mind was foggy, and your body was trembling and shivering. Just the thought that you'll eventually heal and get hunted down again, without anyone knowing about what was truly going on was enough to consider dying. You coughed your way through to Natlan, and as the sandy desert came to a halt for the beginning of Natlan, you could only hope that Natlan would be different.

It wasn't long till you passed out, but you got a tiny glimpse of a Saurian watching you...

Your head hurt, everything did. You woke up to your injuries healed, as you thought what happened. Your body probably managed to heal itself, so that was already explained. What was not so good and definitely needed explaining was that the environment you were in was certainly different, even if you remember not seeing much.

You saw a little girl coming towards you. She looked familiar, but you began to panic. Were you really going to get hunted this time too? If that was the case then dying seemed like a better option than anything.

"Are you okay?! You really looked like you weren't going to survive!" Huh? Why wasn't she attacking you? Was this really a dream? Thank god! You felt like crying at the kindness you were shown after so long!

The girl introduced herself as Kachina. You thought that's why she looked familiar. Perhaps you were not thinking straight from the suffering that you were inflicted on. You introduced yourself too, but you used (fake name) instead of who you really were.

"What happened? You looked so pale and your entire arm was covered with abyssal energy! Did you get attacked on your way here?" She asked so innocently, which made you realize that you had to create a fake story, and fast. You contemplated for a moment, creating a fake story within seconds was hard, but the sheer thought of being hunted again left a bad image on your brain.

"Ah well, I was a runaway from my home in Sumeru. I encountered some enemies and that's what happened to my arm. Is there any place in Natlan where I can get a job and a cheap house and a job? I don't have any Mora on me," you lied through your teeth. You had Mora from the treasure chests you saw in the wild, but it would be weird that a runaway who left everything behind has Mora on them. You felt bad lying to Kachina. But, for your survival, everything was necessary. She seemed to believe you, so you internally sighed in exhaustion. Children were so naive.

She felt so sorry for you, even though your story was fake. She took a cherry flavoured candy from her large bag and gave it to you. Finally, tears started to slip through your eyes. It's truly been so long since you had seen kindness being shown to you. A tear fell from your eyes as you cried. Kachina began to panic, but realized that it was best to stay quiet. You sobbed and sniffled as Kachina continued to comfort you. You again passed out from crying so much.

"There is a bar nearby that you can work in! And for the place to stay in, they have a space above the bar where you can be at!" You walked together as she continued talking. She was nice to talk too, and didn't really pressure you and ask any more questions which might have made you uncomfortable. You changed your clothes too, wearing gloves to hide your injuries from the abyss. You looked at the bar she led you to and thanked her profusely. She was so kind, certainly a gift from the gods!

You got the job and a place to stay. All you had was cleaning duty, and, compared to the injuries and (sometimes) vomiting you had to deal with by yourself, this was a piece of cake. You just cleaned the counters, the glasses and the floor and also throw out the rowdy people in the bar. The room you live in now was cramped, but it was at least better than having to sleep in defeated hillichurl camps with no protection whatsoever.

After getting a stable income, you started giving Kachina a lot of gifts. After all, she helped you so much when you literally had no will to live. She always tried declining them, but you always insisted, saying that she deserved it. She really did though, you needed to pay back her kindness from the beginning anyway. You also started visiting her much often, exploring or just talking with her.

You do meet her friends eventually enough.

"(Fake name)! These are my friends, Kinich and Mualani! I hope you get along with them well!" You were shaking, what if they weren't as kind as Kachina? What if they find out? What if, what if-

But, they were much more easy going than what you expected. Mualani was very cheerful, and Kinich was also very kind! Something was weird though. Ajaw was much quieter than usual. Sure, he still had those narcissistic comments, but it was like he toned down on them a bit. That was very confusing, but if the others didn't notice then you didn't need to bother.

You sometimes visit Mualani in the hot springs, just keeping your arms out of the water for the abyssal energy not to spread. You also sometimes visit Kinich in the Scions of Canopy. He does his extreme sports like bungee jumping, you just watch. Again, it was really unnerving on how much quieter Ajaw was..

But, this happiness wouldn't really last for long.

You were cleaning in your bar, secretly listening into some drama in one of the tables. A woman came into the bar. She was clad in a dark cloak, so you couldn't really see her. But, upon taking a closer look, you realized it was... Mavuika?!

You were sweating like your life depended on it. How did she even figure out that you worked here? Did you have to move again, when you we're just getting settled? Was this perfectly calm life just going to stay for false hope? Seriously, you were scared. You went to go clean another station instead of your own, but not until she managed to give you a message.

"I've been meaning to meet you for a long time, how about we just talk outside later?" She smiled warmly, but you just felt a chill down your spine. You were terrified. But, considering how powerless you were, you agreed. You never know what she might do after all.

Your shift was done, and you gulped as you walked outside. Mavuika was there, waiting for you. She waved, and you nervously waved back. You looked down at yourself. Your hands were trembling, and your entire body was shaking. The sweaty feeling in your palms never went away, it was uncomfortable, but not nearly as uncomfortable as having to talk with an archon.

"I already know that you are our creator, please rest assured," huh?! She already knew? But how? You never revealed your identity,what was going on?! But, all you did was nod your head, still nervous on what she could do.

"I've heard of the chase that you have been through in other nations, but please be assured that I will not do the same. I will protect you from the other nations, and you can continue living your life as it is. I will do my best to help you lead a normal life," you were shocked. Absolutely shocked. Since when did an archon treat you so nicely?

Venti chased you with his bow and arrow, and you got nearly got sucked into the black hole that he had in his burst. Moral was leading the adepti and Liyue Qixing to find and hunt you. You just completely avoided Inazuma. It would be terrible that the Shogun would find you, since she's not as "nice" as Ei. You thought you could start a new in Fontaine, but you got put on to a death sentence by the Oratrice. At least Neuvillette had some kind of pity for you. The eremites, grand bazaar and the scholars of Sumeru were also in the hunt. You started reflecting on how much suffering you had to deal with, as tears welled up in your eyes again. You went to hug Mavuika and just sobbed in her shoulder. She looked surprised but didn't question it as you cried. She patted your back over and over again, letting you cry all your frustrations out.

Of course, it's not like people won't find out eventually.

Kinich was the first to find out. He offered you to bungee jump with him, and you stupidly agreed.

"It won't be that bad, I promise," oh how you shouldn't have believed him. You were screaming the entire time that he held you. Ajaw was fuming at Kinich, which, again, was very weird. He never cared for anyone before, so what was going on?

Though he was holding onto you, it didn't really stop you from getting injuries by nature itself. You had a cut on your cheek, as blood began to seep out. You landed, and it was only when Kinich was recovering from the adrenaline rush, did he notice your cut. He was speechless. He was just staring as you realized the cut you had on your skin. Your eyes widened at the revelation.

"W-wait, I-I can explain!" You didn't even know what you were panicking for. Wasn't it a good thing that they found out? If so, then why did it feel like your heart has been shattered into a million pieces when he found out? Ajaw then screamed at Kinich, like he was reprimanding him.

"You filthy servant! How can you not realize that the creator was with us all this time?! Honestly, what went on in your head when you took them in such a dangerous activity?!" He spewed out to Kinich, while the boy was still in a state of shock. Finally, as if he got to his senses, he muttered out:

"You're the creator?..." He mumbled under his breath. He looked extremely shocked, and also extremely guilty. He ran out of words so quickly. This is how he treated his creator the whole time?

He was about to apologize, but you interrupted him. There was no way that you would let him even say sorry, not when you want to live your life as a human instead of some divine being.

"If you want a more detailed explanation for this... predicament, meet me at the outskirts of the Children of echoes, you'll get all your answers there."

Mualani was second to find out. You two were walking through her tribe, talking about getting swimsuits for the hot spring. The area was very humid, and the floor was very slippery.

Suddenly, you tripped on your steps and fell on the ground. A scratch was on your knee, as you realised that the blood would show. You tried to hide the injury from Mualani, but she took a glance anyway. Her expression was very surprised, but all she did was wrap a piece of cloth around your knee. It really stung, but you really hoped she wouldn't ask any questions about it.

She took you to a secluded area with no people. Just you and her. She was staring for a long time, and you gulped in nervousness. You were enjoying your life without being chased or worshipped, why did this peace have to end now?!

"Well, (fake name), actually it might not even be your real name.. But anyway, I know it might make you uncomfortable, but please explained what happened a bit ago," she asked and all you did was mumble an incoherent sentence with a bitter tone.

Kachina was last to find out. You were exploring some ruins that you found along with her.

It was just supposed to be a little expedition outside in Natlan, but you got way too many cuts from the rocks inside. It didn't really hurt, so you brushed it off, forgetting that Kachina didn't know you were the creator. When she lit up a fire to check in on everything, that's when you realised this. You tried to stay out of the light as much as possible, but she found out very easily.

"What's wrong (fake name)? Why aren't you coming near the fire?" She innocently asked. You cursed at your self for not realizing that she didn't know sooner. But before you could respond, she dragged your wrist into the light in an attempt to see if you had any injuries or not. When she saw the golden blood however, she turned quiet.

"Y-you're the creator?" She asked, almost terrified. Oh what had she done! Treating the holy creator so casually like a friend! You only looked down at her, feeling guilty at putting so much terror to her mind. You patted her head, unsure of how to respond to her.

"Yes I am, but I am your friend still, am I not?"

Spies can exist anywhere and everywhere. After all, it's such a common phrase in Liyue, the walls have ears.

However, the spies that were there to find you and excecute you, were certainly incompetent in their job, letting their emotions get in the way of things.

Seeing the golden blood for their own eyes, the blood of the "imposter" that they were hunting down, was not really easy to swallow. Instead of kidnapping you, they just took a picture with their kamera and ran like the wind, doing anything to inform their leader.

When the Archons found out, they were nothing less than shocked. They have been hunting their creator the entire time? No, this couldn't be! They trembles at the photo in hand, realising how bad they fucked up. Now they were more determined to find you than ever, not to kill you, but to welcome you into their arms. They will get you back, no matter what it takes. Oh and the actual imposter? They're as dead as they can be. Nothing matters except you now.

Nothing else matters.

This is so short Lmaooo hope you like it tho!

[sxorpiomooon]

Random things about your future lover - a pac reading

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Pile 1-

Wow these are some huge cards for some reason this picture actually reminded me of a home and looking at the cards I'd say this is the person you will set your home with or atleast share a roof with. This has got to be one of the most obvious and purest stack of cards I've ever pulled. Your future lover will be like a dream come true, everything that you have always imagined and yearned for you will find in this person. You will find your inner happiness with this person and this is most likely a soulmate connection. I think it will be love at first sight for both people and things will move pretty fast for you guys for some reason "well I'm sure that I could be a movie star if I could just get out of this place" keeps on playing in my head anyways I see alot of dancing happening between you guys. This connection will be very mutual and balanced I keep hearing ketu so this is a past life connection you guys might've been past life lovers. This connection and person will provide you with alot of courage and you will see that your luck will almost open as this person enters your life I'm seeing a pot filled with gold coins.

Pile 2-

They might like bread🙏🙏🙏 this is the first thing that I saw and it might be something you guys do alot I'm seeing alot of walking also newspapers? Brown colour seems prominent too very rusty and crispy wind and leafs. Your future lover might be someone from your friend circle or perhaps someone that you will first become friends with the only thing that is concerning for me is that this might be someone very controlling or stalker vibes? As in someone observing your each and every move in a creepy manner almost the second scenario that I'm getting is that perhaps this is someone that you stopped being friends with bc they seemed too creepy, possessive or controlling? This might also be someone who wants a lot of praise from the public and gets it. Someone who does a lot for the attention of the public to be praised and appreciated. This person is a winner

Pile 3-

Let me tell you something..... I'm trying very hard to get or pull atleast something positive and there is nothing... This person seems like a control freak worse than my pile 2 very controlling and possessive all three cards point in the same direction. This person might put alot of restrictions on you or just creepy in general. Someone who acts less like a lover and more like a father. Will act very authoritative and treat you very lowly I don't wanna channel no more🙏 IN NO CIRCUMSTANCES MUST YOU GET INVOLVED WITH A BAD BOY BECAUSE YOU THINK ITS COOL MY PILE 3 IN NO WAY

Pile 4-

Huge chances that this is someone from your past. when you meet this person the next time whether it's your first or not you'll observe that this is someone who is going through healing like very big healing physically as well as mentally. I keep thinking of the word rehabilitation there is something very strange its almost as if you will meet them in a completely different personality or persona that they have. They might have gone through some very painful betrayals and might be healing from that. However I do see that this person is very gentle you might not be able to get a grasp of how they truly are in the beginning because they might be still going through their healing I keep thinking of the fault in our stars as well. This is someone who is very compassionate, might give and donate to others alot, very providing of others need. They might have no dreams nothing very empty or lost when you meet them. A very pure person and this connection will unravel beautifully.

[itertarot]

TAROT | YOU

Tips for getting into your body goal

Choose a pic

Pile 1:

First of all, you need to start your journey. Stop postponing your process. Stop waiting for the "perfect" moment, for the motivation to magically appear, or for everything to align. What you need most right now is simply to take that first step. And more importantly, you need to learn the power of discipline. Motivation may come and go, but discipline is what will carry you forward when your energy runs low. Understand this: the results you’re dreaming of won’t happen overnight, they’re long-term, and that’s perfectly okay. Real transformation takes time and guess what? Time is going to pass anyway. Whether you start today or not, the days, weeks, and months will still move forward. The only difference is whether you'll arrive in 2026 with the body and lifestyle you've always wanted, or with the regret of not having started sooner. You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be consistent. Every small step matters. Every healthy choice, every workout, every moment you choose progress over comfort brings you closer. So take the leap. Begin now, not tomorrow, not next week. Now. Your future self will thank you endlessly.

Pile 2:

You need to focus on healing your emotional self. This is for the version of you that tends to indulge as a way to cope with emotional pain, the part of you that eats, drinks, or turns to unhealthy habits to numb what you’re truly feeling inside. It’s important to understand that you are capable of reaching your goals. You can achieve the body, health, and peace you dream of. But it starts on the inside. Your physical reality is a reflection of your emotional state. If your soul is wounded, your habits will mirror that pain. That’s why it’s so important to treat your healing as a whole: mind, body, and spirit. You don’t need to punish yourself to make progress. Be careful with extremes. Don’t try to dive into a restrictive diet or push yourself through an intense fitness routine all at once. That kind of all-or-nothing mindset will only feed the cycle of burnout and self-sabotage. You don’t need to be perfect, you need to be gentle with yourself. Start slow. Take one step at a time. Learn to listen to your emotional needs. When you nurture your heart, your body will follow. This journey is not about control. It’s about healing. And if it is possible, you will benefit from therapy.

Pile 3:

You know you’re capable. Deep down, you already feel the strength and potential inside you. The results you want will come, not instantly, but over the medium to long term time. And that’s okay, because you have what it takes: discipline. Now it’s time to align your actions with your goals. Take the time to learn more about your body type and the most effective ways to reach the shape you desire. Research, ask questions, and stay curious. Knowledge will empower you. Then, turn that knowledge into action: move your body, stay consistent with your workouts, and nourish yourself with purpose. The fruits of your efforts will come, and when they do, it’ll be worth every bit of patience and persistence.

Pile 4:

My number 4, you need to fight for the body you want. Yes, the journey may be tough, and yes, there will be days when giving up feels easier. But trust me when I say: the destination will be worth it. Every drop of effort, every moment of discipline, every time you choose to keep going, it will all be worth it. So please, keep trying. You are capable of achieving incredible things. However, dear number 4, this is also a reminder to find balance between the body you want and the body you can realistically and healthily achieve. Your goals are valid, but they need to be grounded in self-respect and self-awareness. Your body has its own unique structure, its own rhythm and honoring that is a powerful form of self-love. Focus on a well-balanced diet, rich in both micronutrients and macronutrients, because health isn’t just about looks, it’s about feeling good, strong, and energized. And if you’re going to exercise, choose movements that support your body’s needs. Go for light exercises that promote flexibility and mobility, such as stretching, yoga, or Pilates. These forms of movement not only shape your body gently but also help calm the mind and reduce stress. Good luck and nurture yourself.

[imjustdelusionalok]

yandere!dc: goddess! darling

ⁱⁿᶠᵒ ᵃᵇᵗ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵈᵃʳˡⁱⁿᵍ۫ ꣑ৎ

darling is a god from another world who just so happens to immigrate into the dc universe after a very long time of probably embodying... well, everything.

firstly having to live for love as a human, and then ending it all to fight for the beauty of life as god.

she is the reason for existence, from the big to the miniscule.

(so basically op goddess reader who has wayyyy too much power in their hands-- ex: nothing can kill them, nothing can put an end to them, etc--)

the least you could do is seal away her powers, but even that would truly not be enough because your only sealing away 0.000000000000001%. (i mean that 💀)

*cough* anyway... aside from goddess reader backstory, lets go to the inspiration <33

she's a mix of Madokami from Puella Magi, HoF Kiana Kaslana from Honkai Impact, and mostly of Ishtar Ashtart/Space Ishtar from Fate Grand Order <3

originally kind and lighthearted after becoming 'God', but as time passes and stars dimmed, she has become... well... neutral. not good, but DEFINITELY not bad. like this!

"let me help you :)" to "...From the dawn of creation. Man has come from the ground not by his hand but mine. go back to the land and return to dust."

summary: lawful, void, alien... yet beautiful, destructive, human.

sooooo. yup.

:p

ʰᵉᵃᵈᶜᵃⁿᵒⁿˢ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ۫ ꣑ৎ

...she has met the justice league before. because, who in their right minds would ignore the giant falling 'star' that came out of a very visible tear in the sky caused by said celestial body???

dramatically crashing down the surface like a meteorite, you lowkey may have destroyed a 'few' buildings... whoopsies :p

they are surprised. this... girl, no- alien, exudes endless quantity of power, leaking from every blurred pore. it also seems like they might be power themselves...

batman goes bazingas at the amount of destruction caused by your fall leading to an airheaded you getting towed to the JL headquarters and any sort of refusal or fighting back is unallowed. (even tho your more than capable of destroying anything AND everything you still oblige)

though cool as ice, you are so confused deep down. head tilted, vacant expression, the usual from the emotionally detached goddess albeit with a little change. 'what are these humans talking about?' you think, 'what threat?' you think again, unaware that you are the threat being spoken of.

the white slits of the vigilante's mask narrows at your disposition. everything about you seems... off. from your oppressing aura, to the... heavenly allure your blankness brings.

"more alien than the actual alien," a familiar scarlet speedster jokes, in an attempt to lighten the heavy mood. (he failed horribly btw) said alien rolls their eyes and sighs. though he has to admit, you lowkey look kind of cute... but he stops, remembering lois.

once you say your side of the story, they go all shocked pikachu faces again. your a god from another seperate world??? i mean dont get them wrong though, they had their fair share of situations like these, as some dc villains and heroes they know arent even from here originally. but they cant help but feel a bit different about you, something about you makes their soul writhe... and its not in a bad way.

so once B confirms your not a threat despite your extreme potential to act like one, everybody is relieved. you just need a littleeeeeee supervision, thats all :3

and oh look at that, your actually not that bad. your cold demeanor fades once they got to know you, and that void in your eyes is filled with a light comparable to the twilight star's soothing glow— pure, tranquil, and ever so mystifying.

every step you take, life seems to exist and flourish all around you. life heals around you. not only that, but also... them. the dead part of them actually, that died from complications now too complicated to be retold and remembered.

you fill the void they never knew they had, and all their aching scars were no longer painful but tolerable. bearable even, and its all because of you.

at this point, everybody knows how this all plays out. this ordinary tune, twisted into a fanatic's song.

their once innocent admiration has now spoiled into something darker, the more you stay in this world. holy eyes peeked at it, not at them but at the abyss that is their 'love.'

...you were starting to get aware. and a rarity occurred, you were... 'saddened'. for eternities you lived alone, and in an attempt to reconnect with that sliver of humanity you hid and kept, you went here to feel something again. and you did, and you were so successful.

too successful, in fact.

they loved you; so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, sooooo much. without you, they would die! :(

and that, in your eyes, is what makes you 'sad'. if your presence drives your beloved mortals to insanity's grip, then you must fly.

fly away from this despair, fly away from this madness.

your 'love' is your undoing, and ultimately also theirs.

their eyes widen as the sky is torn once again, and a familiar star flies back into it, meaning that you--- left. left? left. left? left... left.

something inside them breaks. both hearts any sense of rationality and morality left.

there is no reason to exist without you it seems, and they will do everything just to see you once more, even a second's glimpse.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

...you can't help but feel something you havent felt for a very long time. what was it again, sadness? anxiety? fear? you dont know. the endless rows of your ivory silks flutter even in the slightest movement. something tugs at you, your mind and heart. something tugs at you, telling... that it is far from over.

they call for you, their cries drowned in obsession masquerading as love.

you never answer, as your supposed concern and care for them lessens and your patience dwindles. reality is cruel, but never crueler than you. and that's when you realized it.

...they make your skin crawl. they make you want to vomit. they make you want to scream and cry. they make your ichor run cold. and if they touch you again, you'll--

...huh. who would have thought that was how you truly felt, goddess.

[mischiefmaker615]

Hey I was wondering if you could write a one shot about Loki x reader, where loki finds out (while they're cuddling, nakedly, just romantic nothing sexually intended) that reader has a small L tattooed on her rib (like Zendaya with Tom's "t" ) because she loves him so much... He's like super flattered and touched or something and it could end it smut.. Maybe wants to get their initial too in the end.. Reader got the tattoo like a day ago without him knowing.. Yea

I've never requested anything before so I don't know if I'm doing this correctly, thanks anyway. I love your writing <3

Proof of Ownership

Rating: R

Summary: Loki discovers you got a tattoo with his initial

You often would say Loki has never seen a movie in his life, even if he’s sat in front of them a thousand times. When it came to laying in bed together with something playing on the tv, his attention was obvious on where it truly was.

Today you had attempted to show him “How Harry Met Sally”, but by feeling his wondering hand, you knew it was a lost cause. Not that you minded of course, these moments tgether were still relaxing when you chose to lay naked together and do nothing- other than leading to some form of activity eventually..

Yet today was different- and you did your best to stop from wincing whenever Loki’s fingertips ghosted over your ribs while he continued a pointless trail of enjoying the smoothness of your skin; but you could never successfully hide something from the god of mischief for long.

‘’darling..’’ he gets your attention quietly, turning onto his side so that he may look at you while his hand left your body for a moment with concern.

Shit.. you wanted to save it for a surprise until it was fully healed..

‘’are you feeling alright?” Loki asked gently, concern furrowing his eye brows while his eyes looked you over as if he were missing something.

You immediately placed a hand on his cheek reassuringly, even scooting closer so he wouldn’t feel like you were rejecting him in some sort of way with a hum. ‘’fit as a fiddle.’’

You felt Loki’s body pause while he tried to mentally dissect your Midgardian quote and you took this opportunity to cuddle closer- your naked chest pressing against his was enough to have his mid forget it and go back to holding you close.

His hand resumed it’s journey, now and again gripping and pausing at certain spots he highly enjoyed before he slowly made his way back towards your ribs. Squeezing your eyes shut, he felt his hand stroke over them again and this time the way you shifted made him exhale and fit up, your eyes saying it all without your mouth having to curse it.

‘’are you beginning to concern me darling, are you willing to tell me verbally or are you in need for me to take a look myself?” Loki asked gently but there was a firmness in his voice while you sat yourself up against the headboard with the sheets clutched to your chest.

‘’it was suppose to be a surprise..’’ you sighed in defeat, earning a totally confused expression from him while his eyes began to search you.

‘’what in norns are you talking about?” he asked while you bit your bottom lip and figured it probably would be easier just to show him then tell.

Slowly, you pulled down the covers to your waist, revealing an initial “L” on your ribs that still was a little red in it’s healing form. Loki’s eyes lowered, hesitating a mere second on your breasts before he caught sight of the marking. At first his brows furrowed before his eyes widened, his body instantly hovering yours and lowering himself so that he may lean in closer to inspect it better.

‘’wha- darling what is this-‘’

‘’it’s a tattoo, basically ink permanently marking the skin on- whatever you want in an area basically.’’ You explained while your cheeks reddened a little. ‘’I got it yesterday.. it’s your initial.’’

Loki’s hand hesitated, hovering but second guessing himself from touching it and making you in pain further while his eyes rose up to meet yours. Now they held amazement and still the look to understand while his heart beat against your legs.

‘’darling.. you’ve chosen to literally mark yourself as mine?” he asked quietly, his throat having gotten a tad bit husky while you could see him shift a little until he had to sit up to make ‘something in particular’ a bit more comfortable.

‘’of course, I’ve given my first tattoo some thought and figured it be the perfect pick.’’ You smiled before it vanished just a little bit while he watched you, sitting on his hands in knees over you while also displaying his gorgeous backline. ‘’..do you like it?”

Loki’s eyes raised with shock, a grin tugging his lips up before he leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours, a hum leaving both your lips while a hand came to rest against your cheek. Ot was all the reassurance you needed while he pulled back to keep grinning at you. ‘’darling.. it drives me absolutely feral..’’ he says, his voice definitely getting a bit more strained while you took in the lust now coming to his eyes.

‘’not that I ever needed proof that I am yours, it should be a damn given.’’ You winked and wrapped your arms around his neck while he smirked and began pulling the covers down away from your body.

‘’Midgardians are simple minded creatures, sometimes you need to literally spell things out.’’ Loki teased and heard him exhale with an appreciative shudder while his hands moved to your hips and pulled you down more on the bed so you were on our back with him above you.

‘’remember, I’m one of those simple minded creatures.’’ You teased while he began dipping his head down to kiss your neck, instantly making you melt and turn your face to give him more access.

‘’you’ve been practically marked by the gods darling, you aren’t like them.’’ Loki murmured against your skin, giving your collarbone a nip while you tangled your fingers in his hair, doing your best to hold on to thought.

‘’I got this yesterday..’’

Loki smirked against your skin and raised his head to look at you. ‘’that’s not what I mean by being marked by the gods darling.’’ He teased, waiting to see your face click things together before catching off your words by rubbing the tip of his cock against your folds, making your back arch and your hips try to push at him for entre.

‘’but I’m very much yours as you are to me..’’ Loki whispered, his eyes closing hile he relished in the sensation once the tip of his cock began entering you. ‘’perhaps I shall mark myself one of these days with your initial..’’

You shuddered in pleasure while he fed you inch by inch, holding him closer while his head dipped down to suck at your breasts with a hand joining him, resting his weight on his forearm.

‘’just a heads up, it may hurt.’’ You warn, your voice but a whisper now while he began his lazy thrusts and you so much as squirmed under him by his administrations.

‘’what’s pleasure without a little pain darling?” Loki smirked, pinching one of your nipples to prove his point which had you yelp, followed with a moan when he used his soothing tongue to make it better before he kissed his way back up to your lips. ‘’what do you do to me darling..’’ he breathed.

‘’in all regards, I drive you crazy with equal force..’’ you tease with breathy pants, your back arching with your eyes fluttering as he began picking up speed.

‘’you always knew how to stand your ground, I just knew I had to have you all those years ago..’’ Loki panted, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth while you began to moan and tighten your grip around him, almost as if you were clawing at him in desperate need for him to keep going.

‘’you were very convincing.’’ You teased, giving up on all thought while you raised your hips to meet his.

‘’I do my best to be thorough.’’ Loki smirked, a hand sliding down between your bodies to begin rubbing small tight circles against your clit.

A moan left your mouth, Loki finding that the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue in and dominate your mouth while you began to feel absolutely stuffed. It most certainly didn’t take long for you to get to that glorious edge where he sat up and gripped your hips, his eyes falling down to watch himself enter you, your breasts bounce and all the facial features he could pull out of you. Your hands rose up to grip at the pillows above your head, panting while you got closer and close while he grinned down at your gorgeous form and paused at your new marking.

‘’who do you belong do?” he breathed, getting closer and closer to his own undoing.

‘’you..’’ you moaned.

‘’who do you belong to?” he growled, his thrusts getting harder while his eyes fluttered and a hand reached out to grip the headboard, looking over you with his thrusts not even pausing once.

‘’you Loki!”

‘’again-‘’

‘’oh gods..’’ you whimpered, feeling how his hand caressed your clit and set you over the edge. ‘’fuc- LOKI!’’ you screamed, tightening and cumming all over his relentless cock, your cunt milking him until you felt him spill inside of you and plunge deep to make sure you got every drop.

‘’gods Y/N.. it’s like you don’t even loosen.. not even after all these years..’’ Loki whispered, his body shaking with a sex drunk grin while his movements began to slow down and help you with your high before he slowly pulled out.

You held back a little whimper from the empty feeling, followed with a blush to feel so much liquid spill out of you while Loki gather you in his arms, his movements obvious to be careful so he wouldn’t disturb your new wounds before he began pressing kisses to your forehead and temple while you snuggled closer.

‘’I wonder if you’ll ever be able to watch a movie.’’ You giggled, already hearing the credits in the background while he chuckled and firmly slapped your ass, making you yelp and giggle.

‘’you’re the one who’s so distracting.’’ He teased ‘’in more ways than one.’’

‘’you touched me first.’’ You said with the same tease, causing him to chuckle and hold you closer.

‘’you’re as stubborn as I am darling.’’ he chuckled and pulled back to brush some of your silky hair away from your face before the back of his fingers lingered on your cheek. ‘’now tell me, how exactly does this tattooing process work?” he asked before his eyes grew dark and lustful.

‘’and who gave them permission to touch what’s mine..’’

This was so much fun to write! ironically i've been in the dangerous zone of wanting another tattoo Lol (currently have 5) but i've been in the workshop of getting my Loki tattoo!

Tag List:@foxherder13@asgards-princess-of-mischief@fire-in-her-veinz@nervouseden@kathren1sky-blog@eleniblue@lokiswife-dark-fox-queen@queenofstarsign85@slytherinqueen4life@soulpiercing@westwindrhapsody@lulubelle814

[circeyoru]

Unwanted Soul = Requested

[Yandere!Alastor x Owner of his Soul!Reader]

The Request

Part 1 (here) — Part 2 — Part 2.5 (ask) — Part 3  — Part 4 — Part 5 — Part 6 — Part 7 — Part 8 — Part 9 — Part 10 (END)

You weren’t a powerful Overlord nor were you the weaker ones to have their souls owned by other demons to survive in this hellhole. You’re merely capable enough to get by your everyday life. Like always, you’d stay clear from any of ongoing battles or powerful demons that were out and about. Your keen 6th sense to pinpoint potential dangers was always your go-to during your outings

You kind of treated Hell as your paradise to shut-in in your room and read all the comics you want plus watch all the TV shows you want. You were one of the rare demons that get connection to the Earth realm where you can enjoy the guilty pleasures you spend your days doing. Of course, your death was a suicide as you saw no life ahead of you

But you really really should have stayed in that day. It started out as any other day in Hell and you were on your way to the usual supermarkets for the junk food and drink you love. Normally, it was uneventful, until you caught sight of a dying demon, no, ‘wounded’ would be the right word since demons would only demon by angelic blades, even you knew that. Still, the demon was heavily wounded

It must have been a good few minutes since you caught weaker demons attempting to take advantage of the weakened demon as easy prey. You immediately took out your notebook, scribbing a phase before tearing it out and blow on it lightly. The page turned to white sparkles before taking shape of a row of angelic spears around you, it launched at the weak demons before they could do anything to the wounded one

You took went to the wounded demon quickly as your spears faded to nothing after doing its damage. You held his limb hand and closed your eyes, visualizing your cozy apartment and the ground swallowed the two of you up. In the blink of an eye, you were back home, sighing in relief

Not even a moment, you were knocked to the ground and pinned down by your shoulders and thigh. You struggled a bit before you realized it was the wounded demon that was pinning you down with radio dials for eyes

Without thinking, you reached into your coat pocket and took out a piece of paper, slamming it onto his face and blew at it. The paper faded to nothing but sparks then the demon stilled before closing his eyes and slumping forward onto you. Unconscious. But you invited someone you shouldn’t have into your home

This had to be Alastor, the Radio Demon

You grimaced, eying Alastor on top of you sleeping like a harmless deer. You thought of throwing him back out into the streets, but you didn’t exactly have the heart to. You came to the conclusion of healing him as fast as you could then sending him on his merry way! Yes!

Noooo!!! Why is he still here!?!?!?!?!?!?!??????!!!!!

“My dear, you really should be taking more care of your diet. This is hardly filling or healthy for you.” Alastor eyed the cup noodle you were about to open up like you were holding trash “But it’s fast and gets my hunger sated.” You eyed back, “It’s not like I’m feeding you this. I cook for your meals anyways…” You continued roaming around the kitchen, rubbing a fork, and setting a timer for your food. Ignoring the closeness of Alastor. “As long as it doesn’t concern you, it’ll be fine. I’ll treat you better since you just healed up. These are my own indulgence.” “And I appreciate your hospitality, dear, truly, I do. The matter at hand is your consumption!” Alastor grabbed your precious cup noodle lunch away, “I shall take over your meals from now on.”

Yes, you have fully healed Alastor and he’s back to full health. No, you didn’t tell him to stay. In fact, the moment his wounds were all healed, you showed him the open door, waiting for him to leave. He didn’t exactly let you make him leave. He said he was staying to repay your kindness, but all he was doing was inserting him into your afterlife and really making it Hell

At first, he praised your unique power to summon anything you write with a gentle blow, especially the part where you put him to sleep the first time. Then he urged you to make a name for yourself, but you really just want to shut yourself in your room and indulge in your time-wasting hobby. You told him off and shut yourself in your room, but he would just appear through the shadows and apologise, saying he’d leave the matter

When that whole business was done, Alastor got worse. You’re positive some other demons would love to be treated this way, but you’re just weirded out. It started out small, Alastor making meals like he said, shifting your schedule to a healthier one. Then taking care of your needs whenever you are about to do something. Even as simple as getting a glass of water

Then it escalated to touches. A handholding here, maybe he’s lean into you while reading. Or he’ll lay next to you in your own bed. Shift closer to you while on the couch. Stare at you while you were busy reading manga or watching animes and shows. Plus you could feel him staring at you while you sleep from the shadows even though you told him not to

But the most unnerving thing was when you would go restock on your food and other supplies. Alastor being the gentleman would carry and pay for your stuff. That you’re used to and didn’t care since either way, you had your methods. It was what happens during the two of you walking

“Alastor…” You hugged your coat tighter as your lips pressed together tightly from the scene, your eyebrows furrowed from the tense situation you were in. You had just left the shop to get new books and volumes, only to be met with such a sight. “What…” “My darling, your timing is perfect.” Alastor threw away the torn body of what used to be a demon. The street was covered with a layer of thick red and black blood. Hellborns and sinners alike were all brutally ripped away by the fearsome Radio Demon. “These pest dares to look at you wrongly, surely they deserve a good, limb pulling.” He walked over to you with his ever-present smile, offering his clean hand. “Shall we head home, My Doe?” You feel yourself tense as you firmly told him, “Just because they stare at me a little long and spat out rude remarks, it’s not an excuse or reason to torture them like this. I’m… I don’t exactly mind unless they attack.” Alastor grabbed your hand and kissed it, “Dearie, why give them the chance to harm you when I can prevent it? You can name and point fingers, I’ll be your killer.”

Trapped was what you felt at home and anywhere, as long as Alastor was there, you didn’t like it. Those sweet romantic gestures and attention from him that you would only see in your books and shows left a bad taste in your mouth. 

At the 4th year, however, something changed. Alastor sold his soul to you as the ‘last’ act of pure devotion and loyalty to you. Since the contract was all by your rules, you made use of it

Limit Alastor’s powers because it scares you how much he could do and the destruction he could cause. Forbid him from devouring or owning souls because he does it so easily when he thinks you were wronged in any way. And most importantly, forbid him from disobeying your words, whatever they may be, that way, you can finally have peace

How Alastor was still able to be this unnerving, you didn’t know and you didn’t want to know. Somehow, the contract was something like a declaration that the two of you were romantically involved with ecah other? If it made sense. It didn’t, really

Alastor still stayed with you because he had told you a long time ago that his home was destroyed in a brutal battle, hence why you found him that battered. So you offered yours. You did manage to set some firmer ground rules with the contract’s help. Like no entering your room or throwing away your junk food

Though Alastor still plays a big part in your life just because. You had wanted a lover before, but Alastor had proven how bad a relationship could go, and you two didn’t even established anything! You love fiction, fiction is life or afterlife. You can just drown yourself in the world of fiction and never leave

That’s the basis of your power. It’s like summoning through writing and the faint blow from your lips. You have to be aware of the components though, the hardest to summon was definitely the angel spears. It was the day after extermination and a spear was stuck into a demon, you were curious and took it back with you. You studied it and tested it out, knowing its strength and limitations before actually attempting to summon it. Works well enough, since it was easy to study

In the blink of an eye, 7 years had already passed. While Alastor was out on buying new ingredients for your celebration dinner of surviving another extermination, you caught the Princess of Hell and her promotion on the ‘Happy Hotel’. A place that welcomes anyone, a place that gives anyone a chance. It sounds lovely, but you didn’t have the mentality and energy to help out

A foolproof plan came to mind. You could, no, should send Alastor there. He loves entertainment! He wouldn’t be bored there! The hotel is much bigger and there’s more people there for him to hang out with. Plus he would definitely get a room there since he’s going to be staying. Even when he disagrees, because you just know he would rather stay by your side, you can use the contract as a last resort

“My dear!” Alastor greeted the moment he came back from his little shopping. He gave you a peak on the crown of your head when he walked past you, then headed to the table to place the bags of items down. “Did you hear about that ridiculous plan the Princess told in the picture box? Hahaha! It’s sure to fail! No way in any universe would just a silly and childish thing happen! No, sir!” “I want to help her with it, it sounds like a good plan. It’s better than annual exterminations.” You spoke while coming over to check the things Alastor brought. “But you know I’m more of a home person and not the go-out and help-others type.” “Exactly, dearie, we need not care for such fantasy.” Alastor nodded along. “That’s why you’re going in my place.” You stated firmly without blinking or shifting in your spot, at the growing static, you looked up to see Alastor’s eyes turned to radio dial. Very rarely are those directed at you since he swore he’d never do you harm or wish you harm. “You’ll go and help the Princess to make it a success.” Alastor’s eyes shifted back to normal, narrowing as he asked, “Till how long, my dear?” You had to control yourself to hide a smile as you spoke, “For as long as it takes of course. You can’t rush redemption, right? And it’s the first of its kind too.” The static grew again, you knew Alastor was getting annoyed with such a wish (order) from you. “But this would take a long while. I’d be returning to check on you, yes?” “Oh, no. Can’t interrupt your work.” You said, carrying your pile of snacks to your little comfort corner and dropping it with huff, there was a skip in your step as you returned back to the table. “You can’t come back here nor see me when in the service of the Princess. Well, you can see me when I’m the one to approach you or call for you, that’s the only exception.” Alastor would have a frown on by now if it weren’t for his insistence on the power of smiles, “Who would take care of you? Who would watch over you? Who would tend to you? Who would protect you while I’m gone, sweetheart?” You laughed, “Don’t be so dramatic. I can handle myself. It’s just like before I met you,” You didn’t miss the radio crackling like it broke connection, “But this time, I have you as a backup should I need.”

Making Alastor leave you wouldn’t have been possible without the contract and the fact that his soul was yours to control. Very pushy but you had to do what you had to, it was all to regain that quiet and isolated shut-in life you love. Never have you missed the silence in your home and the void of a watchful gaze all around you

You squealed and smiled brightly, “Time to chill and laze around!”

Oh how the Radio Demon was fuming as he made his way to that ratchaed hotel. He shouldn’t have let you know of such a news. If that inferno picture box was broken, then you wouldn’t know. No, you have your phone, so that makes no difference. Maybe it was the fact that that cannibal chef was gone that Charlie had time to promote that idea of hers? 

This would be his first appearance since 7 years ago. He kept his presence gone from the public eye just to hide his connection and fancy towards you. If demons knew you had his soul, who knows what danger you’d be in? He can’t let that happen to you. No, you were the kind soul that saved him and gave him a place to belong. Truly belong

Never had he felt such a sense of comfort around someone so lazy and chill. The fact that you were average but powerful in your right that you humble yourself to blend in with others. To live your afterlife as you please and like without a care in the world. So long as your interest was sated

He just couldn’t help but want to be yours. You deserve it, after all

But now. Now he had to provide his attention and care to some princess’ dream! What joke is this?!

Were you sending him away because he wasn’t strong enough? You limited his powers to see if he could still be as strong as before. Was that the reason? What other demon held your attention? As far as he knew. You have no interest in forming connections. He was the first one you actually cared for and hosted your home for! You don’t even own other souls and you’re strong!

He was your only one. Only!

In front of the hotel, he knocked rhythmically, waiting patiently for the door to be opened and for him to introduce himself. He’ll show you. “Hel—” The door closed shut in his face before it opened again, “-lo!”

His ears twitched as he heard the ruckus inside. These souls don’t deserve your time and attention spent on them, he’ll deal with the problem like always and return to your side. He’ll show you just how powerful and cruel he is and can be

The door opened again and he introduced himself with his plan in mind. “Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you, princess. Quite a pleasure!”

Note: I really really didn't mean to do this so long... I could have put it into 2 parts, but I was too lazy to. There was actually some more I wanna add, but then it will be a literal essay. Anyways~ How you like this one?

Circe Y.

Other Works: MASTERLIST

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[scariusaquarius]

coachable.

RE6! Leon Kennedy x Assistant! Fem! Reader

Summary: Leon Kennedy has been given an assistant that he didn't ask for at the DSO when he begins to fall behind on paperwork and reports. This assistant, however, doesn't seem too keen to be helping him with his mountains of paperwork. Leon reaches the final straw when she mouths off to him for the last time.

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A/n: Nothing major, just some classic Leon Kennedy smut hehe. also, i kind of just let the words flow. I really like the agent x assistant dynamic, and I know the trope is overdone, but i will NEVER tire of 'tired old boss fucking bratty assistant'. ANYWAY here is a treat <3

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Genre: Romance, Erotica Rated: Explicit Warning: Erotica, Porn w/Plot 18+, Angry/Hate Sex, Dirty Talk, Unprotected Sex, Slight Choking, Degradation, Oral Sex (male/female receiving), Use of Whore, Mean! Leon, Spit Play (leon spits in your mouth like once), CUM EATING, Power Play

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Author: ScariusAquarius

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Being a federal agent fighting against bioterrorism was a hard job; especially when it was a job he didn't even want in the first place.

When Leon escaped Raccoon City with Claire and Sherry, he envisioned his life becoming quiet. He'd move out of the city and into the country, away from people, and he could heal and focus on forgetting the horrors of that fateful night back in the 90s.

However, life and people had other plans, and Leon had never truly recovered nor healed properly from the traumas he had faced. When the incident at the White House, Tall Oaks, and Shang-Hai happened and he discovered that Sherry had also been forced to become an agent of the Department of Security Operations, Leon was fed up.

Was he going to continue to keep doing his job in hopes that this fight wasn't for nothing? Absolutely, but that didn't mean he was going to enjoy it. So, in tandem with his growing resentment, Leon's performance outside of missions began to dwindle.

Leon began to drink more heavily; his reports sitting unfinished on his desk as supervisors and higher-ups seethed, reprimanded, and threatened, because of the unfinished works. Leon had begun shutting his phone off after he left the DSO at the end of the day.

Even Hunnigan was starting to get onto him about his work and his performance, giving him small lectures that had him rolling his eyes and sighing and agreeing half-heartedly before he would walk off and toss the files on his desk to be forgotten for another day.

Finally, the DSO had enough of his slack and had hired an assistant for him to help him with his paperwork, and Leon was not having any of it. Like a personal vendetta, Leon made sure that he let the DSO know that he didn't appreciate being treated like a child who couldn't do his homework by making the assistant's lives a living hell.

Because of his actions, most of the assistants didn't last long. The longest assistant he had at one time was for about two months before they finally broke and left the job.

And then came you.

Leon just couldn't wrap his head around you; couldn't figure out what it was that made you tick and what made you stay for as long as you had. You were a no-nonsense woman like Hunnigan but with a much larger stick up your ass. You were efficient and aggressive, making sure that Leon knew that you weren't going to take his bullshit and get his reports done.

For the most part, Leon had adamantly refused; allowing the papers to stack for a while before you'd take some, complete them, and then come banging on his office door as more files were given to him.

You weren't so hard on him when he would be put onto missions; understanding that the job itself was more important than the papers, but you weren't about to get in trouble nor allow him any lenience since your job was heavily dependent on him.

Leon sat back in his office chair, his blue eyes staring you down from outside of his office as a pen was shaken back and forth between his fingers.

The paperwork in front of him had been long-forgotten; the words beginning to blur together and give him a headache (though it could have also been the whiskey he'd been sipping from that familiar black flask he'd gotten from the Eastern Slav Republic).

Instead, to pass the time, Leon had taken to watching you. He watched the way you stayed hyperfocus, barely giving any attention to anybody who passed by and tried to talk to you.

You were a hard worker; a meticulous being who took pride in her work, and though your bossiness could get under Leon's skin, Leon respected that you took your job seriously unlike a lot of the other office workers and agents within the DSO.

He just couldn't get past your disrespectful mouth.

"Mr. Kennedy, I'm not going to ask you again. Get the reports done, or I'm going to write a complaint to the director. Again."

You were suddenly standing in front of him, the man jolting slightly when you slapped a folder down in front of him. His blue eyes squinted at you slightly as you placed a hand on your hip, giving him a stern glare.

"Aw, you're gonna tell on me? That hurts my feelings, sweetheart."

His tone was sassy, and mocking, and it made the fire in your eyes blaze. Your nostrils flared, and Leon couldn't help but be amused by the effect his words had on you.

"Listen, I was nice enough to do most of it for you. All you have to do is fill in the blank like the child you are, and then the director won't be on either of our asses anymore. I'm not fucking around, agent."

Before he could retort, you spun around on your heel and marched out, swinging his door shut with a loud slam and causing the blinds to fly and crash against the door. A blade from the blinds broke, and Leon's eyebrow twitched.

Yes, you took your job seriously to the point it annoyed Leon, and he had half a mind to give you a piece of it; his muscles taut and trembling with anger. Who the hell did you think you were talking to him like that?

Gritting his teeth, Leon made sure you were watching him before he grabbed the file and promptly swung it into the trash before kicking his feet up on his desk to take a sip of his whiskey.

He took much pleasure in the way your body shot up from your desk and promptly walked to the break room, hips swinging the whole time.

Once the weekend had passed and Leon had come in, he could feel his body immediately dreading the workday when he noticed you were already at his desk and waiting for him.

Leon threw his bag down onto a chair opposite the desk, collapsing into his chair and sipping the coffee you had placed on his desk with a note that said 'fuck you:)' on it discreetly.

"Nice note, but you're not my type. What the hell do you want at 5am in the morning?"

You rolled your eyes at him before crossing your arms, stating.

"I just spent almost all of last night emailing our higher-ups and explaining to them that the reason their reports are late is because you're not being compliant and doing them, and you know who got yelled at?"

Leon stayed quiet, ignoring your presence as he logged onto his laptop, and he had to swing his hands back when you slammed his laptop shut, your eyes wide and lips curled back into a snarl.

"Leon, I'm not fucking around anymore!"

"Who the hell do you think you are, huh?"

Leon shot up from his chair, getting into your face as anger slipped into his hungover veins, his head beginning to hurt from the skyrocket of blood pressure.

"I'm your goddamn assistant! Your assistant, Leon, not the person doing your whole job for you!"

Leon didn't know what had happened. One minute, he was opening his mouth to yell at you, and the next second, he had your face in between his hands and was kissing you like his whole life depended on it.

You seemed to be shocked, unsure of what to do, and Leon couldn't help but growl when your tongue swiveled against his as he dominated your mouth, gripping your neck tightly within his grasp.

"You talk too goddamn much."

He hissed into your mouth before kissing you again, and your hands were yanking on his hair; the pain sending rivers of tingles down his spine as his cock jumped to life within his slacks.

He was just pent-up, his mind told him, this was just about relief and getting you off of his case. This was purely a dance of power and raw lust fueled by the need to be better, to be in control, to be right.

And however could he resist when you were wearing his cologne?

His nose was buried in your neck, smelling your sweet scent and biting down hard upon your skin, his hands all over your body and ripping and tearing at buttons and seams that were already fragile and frayed. Your nails were digging into his scalp, pulling and tearing and cutting until blood stained the tips of your fingers.

Leon pulled you desperately over his desk and into his lap, your skirt ripping at the sides as your legs wrapped around his waist, and his hands yanked your shirt out from beneath the waistband, his rough hands trailing up the soft skin of your spine.

"Why can't you just leave me the fuck alone, you brat."

"Shut the fuck up, Kennedy."

Your lips were on his, and Leon's hand swung down onto your ass as hard as he could, your body jolting and a shocked cry being swallowed down his throat before he gripped your ass hard through the ruined skirt.

"You don't tell me what to do."

His voice was rough, hoarse, and there was a distant thought of needing a drink to make his voice clear. However, that thought was dissipated when your clothed core rubbed against the bulge desperately pulsing within his pants; his body and mind becoming hooked on you.

He hated you. Leon hated you so much, he couldn't stand it. He couldn't stand being here with you like this, but his legs and arms and hands and mouth; gods, they wouldn't stop moving all over you. Leon couldn't stop devouring your skin and cries and biting and teething and gods, he was turning into a monster himself.

Leon picked you up to smack you down onto his desk, your legs spread, and his coffee went flying, spilling all over his desk and running down the sides into the carpet below.

"Jesus, Kennedy, can't even keep your space clean as usual."

You hissed out, and Leon snarled at you, the grip of his hands bruising and unforgiving as teeth and tongues clashed.

"Since you like to use that mouth so much, why don't you use it for something actually useful?"

There was a part of Leon that felt bad through the haze of his anger and lust as he forced you off the desk and onto your knees, but it quickly disappeared when he got a good look at you.

You were pretty, too pretty, while on your knees.

Eyelashes slightly wet from the tears that had gathered in your eyes from the harsh bite he had imprinted into your shoulder, breaths heavy from how much he was kissing you, and your lips were starting to become swollen.

"Open your fucking mouth."

Your lips formed a thin line as you kept them closed, and Leon sighed before grabbing your face and pressing down on your cheeks, hitting pressure points within the jaw to force your mouth open, and Leon hummed.

"You're so much more sufferable when you're on your knees."

Your eyes were dilated; watching his every move with a sneer though you never tried to pull back. In fact, this whole time, you never once pulled away from him.

Did you want him like that? Have you thought about him enough to the point that you, too, craved him? Did you want to put him in his place like he was doing to you? Leon smirked, his mouth filling with drool and saliva, and Leon leaned down and spat right into your mouth.

"Dirty whore. Anybody could walk in and see you, you know. Someone could walk right through that door and see you on your knees. Just what would they say?"

Your throat was undulating as you swallowed his saliva, and you mumbled back; the words jumbled and almost unintelligible with the way he was still holding your mouth open.

"Fuck you."

"You know what, I just might. Get my cock out."

You made a face at him, and he tugged unceremoniously on your face, making you wince slightly when he pressed his bulge against your face.

"You want this or not?"

You pushed away from him, Leon slacking a bit, and you were glaring at him the whole time you unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his slacks, and pushed his briefs down to reveal his throbbing and engorged cock.

Precum was pearling at the tip already, a few veins that wrapped around the shaft pulsing slightly, and the head was a deep red from how hard Leon was. His balls were heavy and full, ready to be emptied into any of your holes, and you had to admit: even his cock was pretty.

Slipping your tongue out, you teasingly swiped at the tip, the salt taste of his precum making your nostrils flare, and Leon's eyes shut just the slightest. Then, you were slipping him into your mouth, and Leon's head fell back; eyes rolling.

How long had it been since he'd been intimate with someone? God, he was rusty. If just your mouth was enough to make his whole body freeze up, how was your pussy going to make him act? Leon needed to get a grip.

But you were sucking him so well, swallowing him down as much as you could as if you were trying to prove something, and Leon's hips stuttered. Your tongue was pressing against his shaft; wiggling and rolling, and Leon couldn't help but to moan languidly.

"Jesus Christ, princess. You must get around, huh?"

You looked offended, sliding off of his cock to berate and scold him, but Leon fucked his cock into your mouth, your eyes widening.

"Nu-uh. I don't want a hear a fucking word come out of your noisy mouth."

He was using you as a fleshlight, fucking his cock into your throat and grunting each time his balls slapped against your chin, and he was certain that his computer chair was going to break from how squeaky it was becoming.

He can just make you order a new one later...or have you use it so you could remember the way he shoved his cock down your throat. The thought made Leon's cock jump, and he was gonna cum if he wasn't careful. Slipping out of your mouth, you coughed slightly, inhaling and gulping deep breaths of air, and Leon pulled you up by your hair and bent you over the desk.

Ripping the remnants of your skirt a part, your panties and pantyhose were on display, a cute little thong with a pink bow in the back greeting him.

"Aw, you like bows, huh? Who would have thought? And look, you're so soaked for me. You like being put in your place, don't ya, sweetheart?"

"For a dog, all you do is bark."

Leon's eyes dilated, a chuckle coming from deep within him as he ripped your pantyhose open and slid your thong to the side.

"Then I'll show you just how hard this dog can bite."

Hanging heavy between his legs, his cock pulsed, ready to spear you open, and Leon guided himself between your wet lips, biting his lip. You were staring at him from over your shoulder, waiting to see what he would do, and Leon leaned forward and grabbed the back of your neck, hissing into your ear.

"Look at me. I want to see your face as I split your pussy open."

Leon hissed slightly through his teeth when he slipped his cock inside of you, and holy fuck, you were heavenly. Your eyes widened, mouth falling agape, and your fingers were clutching onto the edge of his desk as hard as they could.

You were so warm and tight, Leon wasn't sure if it was just because it'd been a while or if you were just made for him, but he was addicted. You were so goddamn wet, he could feel your slick against his pelvis, and Leon couldn't help but to start pounding.

You were biting your lip, trying to keep the moans from spilling out, and Leon couldn't help but to moan and rest his forehead against your shoulder. Quickly, that mean demeanor began to leave him with every thrust into your pussy; desperation for release clinging to him.

He needed this. He needed this relief; to vent out his frustrations in a way that left Leon feeling satisfied. Did he mean to do it this way? Probably not, and definitely not with you, but he had made his bed and he would lie in it.

Leon's hips were pounding into you as hard as they could, your whimpers and whines like music to his ears, and Leon was holding onto you tightly, wrapping his arms around you tightly and grunting.

"Fuck, fuck, you're so goddamn hot....feel so goddamn good."

You were whispering his name, afraid to be heard or seen, and Leon hissed into your ear.

"Say it louder. I want them to hear. I want everyone in the DSO to know that you're my cock-hungry little assistant who just can't help herself."

You squeezed your eyes shut, reaching back to grip at his hip, and you whined out.

"Leon! You're too deep. It...it hurts!"

Leon almost didn't listen to you, the smug feeling in his head clouding his judgement for a moment until he relented. Leon adjusted his position, asking you in a moment of sweetness that had your mind rolling.

"Fuck...fuck...are you alright?"

The kindness and worry that was in his voice made you confused for a moment; almost wondering if it was still Leon that was inside of you, and you nodded, panting as you took a breather.

"Yeah...shit...you're just...too damn big. No wonder you're such a dick."

Leon snorted, kissing your cheek and whispering into your ear.

"Don't worry, you'll get used to it."

Leon pulled back, hands on your hips, and he began to pound into you again. You gasped from the sensation, forehead on the wood of his desk, and Leon groaned.

"Goddamn, princess, you feel so damn good wrapped around me. Gonna fill you up...or maybe I'll cum on your tits...maybe your ass?"

Leon couldn't make up his mind. You couldn't respond, too enthralled by the feeling of his cock stretching you, and Leon moaned, his brows furrowing up. His cock was throbbing; a knot within his stomach forming, and he was aware that he was going to cum soon.

"Tell me where you want it, sweetheart."

You whined slightly before whispering to him.

"I don't fucking care."

He spanked your ass, making you yelp.

"I asked you a question. Answer me properly."

You bit your lip, and he slapped your other ass cheek, making you hiss and exclaim.

"Fuck, in me!"

"Where, baby girl, be specific."

You whined in frustration, exclaiming loudly.

"Cum in my pussy, goddammit!"

Leon moaned loudly, fucking into you faster and rougher until his thrusts became irregular, and he came deep inside of you, filling you up with his cum. Leon was panting, sweat rolling down his temple and neck, and you were in worse shape than he was.

Poor you, your whole outfit was completely ruined. Your makeup, your demeanor, you were completely wrecked and it was all because of him.

Leon pulled out, and he manhandled you to your back, making your eyes widen.

"What are you doing?"

"Shush."

Leon sat down on his chair, and he leaned down to comfortable start eating you out. Your eyes widened, and Leon moaned at the taste of your fucked-out pussy; his cum mixing with your taste and making his cock jump a bit in his hand.

Your hand was twisting within his hair, pulling, and Leon's tongue flattened against your clit. He suckled on you, suckling his cum out a bit, and you squirmed a bit beneath him.

"Leon..."

Leon opened his eyes to look up at you, and you were watching him with a soft yet embarrassed look on your face. Your bottom lip was bitten between your teeth, your chest heaving with every breath, and Leon moaned softly as he began to jerk his half-hard cock.

You were so goddamn sexy.

Leon closed his eyes again, shoving his tongue as deep into you as he could, moving his freehand up to thumb at your clit. You were moaning softly, head falling back, and Leon suckled on you again, suckling your clit into his mouth and flicking his tongue.

"God, you're so good with your mouth. You must get around, huh?"

Sassy jackass, Leon had to think. Leon groaned again, that familiar knot growing, and he could tell that you were getting close as well by the way your legs shook and tightened around his head. You laid back all the way onto his desk, shoving his face deeper and closer to your cunt, and Leon moaned gently.

He gulped noisily, swallowing his saliva and cum and your juices, and Leon looked at you as you moaned loudly, back arching slightly, and his eyes widened slightly when your legs closed around his head tightly, your hips jerking and bucking into his face as you bit your hand to keep your noises from getting too loud.

Leon drank your juices greedily, moaning as he came into his hand, catching as much of his cum as he could, and the two of you panted again. Leon leaned back, teasingly wiping his cum all over your pussy before he looked up at you as you spoke.

"So, you gonna do those reports now?"

Leon didn't know why, but for some reason, he couldn't help but to laugh at your words. Was it the absurdity? The randomness of your question? God only knew. Leon was only aware that you were giggling too, sitting up with a mischievous grin. Leon shrugged, a smirk on his wet lips.

"You got yourself a deal."

"What do you mean?"

Leon licked his fingers, your eyes watching with awe as he smirked at you.

"Every report you want me to do, I get to fuck that pretty pussy of yours."

You swallowed slightly, humming as you watched him lick his own cum off of his fingers.

"Every ten reports."

"Five."

You sighed and relented.

"Fine."

Leon smirked before he pulled his briefs and slacks up, buckling his belt and taking in your ripped clothing.

"I think I got a change of clothes in the locker-room at the training facility. Why don't you just sit all pretty for me and wait for me to get back? I'll make sure to lock the door."

You just made a face at him, and Leon gave you a look.

"You want the clothes or not?"

"Yeah, yeah, just...whatever."

You were shy, almost ashamed, but Leon didn't comment on it. The two of you could talk about it more when he got back and sat down and worked on the reports with you. With a new spring to his step, Leon locked the door to his office and watched as DSO agents and office workers alike began to file in. It was gonna be so fun to watch you try to explain why you were wearing his clothes if someone asked.

He'd make sure to tell Hunnigan to ask just so he could watch your face.

God, he loved his job.

END

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[777heavengirl]

AM - Chapter 1

Snap Out Of It 

Sirius Black x reader Chapter 1/3 Warnings: angst?, smoking, suggestive themes, fwb to lovers word count: 4,684 masterlist

Currently playing: Snap Out Of It by the Arctic Monkeys

Chapters i, ii, iii

Sirius Black does not care. He doesn't care about who you date or hang out with. He does not care that when you smile the corner of your eyes crinkle or that he made you laugh so hard once you actually cried. Sirius does not care that the pink hair clips Remus got you for your birthday matched your lip gloss, as well as the underwear you wore on his birthday. He doesn’t care that you don’t protest when he doesn’t want you spending the night. He doesn’t care that you risked the wrath of Walburga Black by sneaking into the Black household during the summer, just to help heal his wounds as they were so extensive he could not do it alone. He doesn’t care that you always wink at him before your quidditch matches. He doesn’t care that you ditched him to hang out with a no-name blond from-

Sirius didn't want to remember what house he was in, much less his name.

The Gryffindor common room was warm and fairly empty. While the marauders never wasted an opportunity to run around Hogsmeade for a couple of hours, it had been the collective decision, dictated by the foulness of Sirius’s mood, that the lot would stay in the castle today. At least for the first part of the day. It was now 5 in the afternoon.

Remus slapped his book closed, nothing short of exasperated. Although sitting crisscross on the large plush armchair and reading had helped negate the hostile vibrations Sirius had been emitting the past hour, enough was enough.

“If you’re going to pout all day about Y/N’s absence, invite her to Hogsmeade yourself instead next time,”

“Is that where she is? Hadn’t noticed,”

“You are a terrible liar Pads please spare us,” James groaned from the ground, his back against the bottom half of the armchair Remus sat on.

“I don’t know why you think I give a rat’s ass where she is or who she’s with right now,” Sirius knew he was really stretching it now, his tone hadn’t exactly come across as calm and nonchalant. Quite the opposite, his brows had furrowed his face into a scowl and Remus had taken this as his sign to leave, getting up from his chair, James sluggishly crawling into the now empty spot.

“Y/N is not yours Sirius,” Peter frowned at the boy. Sirius’s clenched jaw and hard stare did nothing but spur Peter into rolling his eyes. “You don’t get to be upset when you insist there is nothing between the two of you and then expect her to be at your beck and call,” Peter swiftly got up after, not wanting to even hear what Sirius had to say. They were best mates, but that didn’t mean that any of the marauders wouldn’t tell Sirius Black when he was being an asshole. Peter grabbed his coat from the back of the couch, as he and Remus made a beeline to the common room door, no doubt to make their way to Hogsmeade, enough of the day had been wasted. The fat lady's singing, as she so often fancied doing, perforated the room briefly as the boys opened and closed the door.

“Seriously mate,” James shook his head. ‘You need to snap out of it”. Sirius looked up from his spot on the couch, his legs could now stretch with Peter’s absence and he took the cushion Peter had been hugging to put between his back and the arm of the couch. He couldn't help but stare at the ceiling. James started speaking mindlessly about anything, really, the new prank they wanted to try out, if he should ask Lily Evans on a second date or if it was too soon? I reckon she enjoyed it though. James knew quite well Sirius hadn't been truly listening, but he didn't mind. Not really anyway. He knew his friend quite well, he knew the feelings the boy was trying to repress were bound to bubble up sometime. He had caught Sirius staring at you the entire time you had been at Hogwarts. His eyes trailed after you since you were 11. Since you met on the train.

It wasn't like James didn't know what had been happening recently either. You had been attached at the hip since the ripe age of 5. He was your closest confidant, you joked you were actually cousins. Siblings. He had known about the spirals of conflicted feelings you had fallen on during your fifth year. Much to your own dismay, you liked Sirius Black.

James had a low-key way of encouraging it, even knowing the casanova tendencies Sirius had started to display. The way you bounced off of each other, the jokes, the irony, the stolen glances. The way Sirius's touch always seemed to drift towards you, small pushes after jokes, sweeping you off the ground as you landed, snitch still in your grip. You'd have to be blind to not see the chemistry the two of you had.

Maybe Sirius needed glasses.

James did, however, regret encouraging you. Since April of your fifth year til now, February of your sixth, you had been tangled in Sirius's bed sheets. But not his heart. He wouldn't allow it. And you acted like you didn't either. James held you a good couple of times, as the sobs broke your chest and endless tears poured from your eyes. It isn't his fault Jamie, promise me you won't be mad at him. He couldn't exactly bring himself to let your heartbreak roll off his back, but he didn't want to expose your feelings. So he kept his mouth shut and went to crazy lengths to make sure Sirius wasn't seeing anyone else. Pulling Sirius into crazy unprompted schemes, setting up the girl of the week with someone else, and putting all sorts of spells to lock their door during parties. This one had left them locked out and sleeping in the common room quite a few times. Remus hadn't been happy.

James had tried his best.

Sirius continued to stare up, eyes glazed over as he tried to count the cracks in the ceiling of the common room. He wondered if you were having fun. If the unnamed blond made you laugh. Had you laughed to the point of tears? He doubted it, he looked a bit dull.

Sirius Black did not care that when he asked you if you were going on a date, you blushed, waving off his statement like it was a cloud of smoke.

-

You didn’t want to piss off Sirius. That actually wasn’t the goal at all, because who the bloody hell cares what he thinks? Yet you couldn’t help but think of him while you sat in Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop.

He'd hate this place.

The tea shop was a cute place, it frankly was. It was a rather twee location, filled to the brim with bows and frills. You stared holes into the lacy napkins and sugar bowls. You didn't particularly dislike it. It was cute and you had grown to cherish the pinks and bows, that came with what some defined as femininity. But you enjoyed such things in moderation. And in secret. A lacy napkin stuck out slightly from your small handbag pushed down in a hurry. It would be nice for your scrapbook.

It was the date spot for the hopeless romantics. Or the pushy ones too. You didn’t peg Mr. Jacob Brown as one to frequent such places, but you wouldn’t say no to a free meal with a handsome man.

You weren't usually into blondes though.

You shared the same table as him for Potions. Slytherin and Gryffindor were mixed in this class and you had a feeling Slughorn was regretting this fact as the term trudged along. Jacob was not what you expected. He was one of the more quiet ones, if you squinted he reminded you a bit of Peter. Demeanor wise at least. Jacob's kind eyes found it hard to look straight at yours as he caught you after class, you wouldn't have heard him calling you if he hadn't been in front of you. You could feel Sirius's eyes burning holes into the back of your head as he wanted at the classroom's door while you talked with the tall boy. You opted to ignore him as you listened to Jacob stutter out how he'd be delighted if you would be up for going to Hogsmeade with him on Saturday. You didn't need to say yes though,

You did.

His tall stature, golden blond hair, and tanned skin quite contrasted not only your dear friend Peter but a certain boy you were trying painfully hard not to think about. Jacob was quiet and kind, with a knack for exploding whatever was brewing in his cauldron often. But when you met up with him at Hogsmeade, the frigid February air bitting your cheeks, it was like he had come loose, his usually tense demeanor relaxed and warm. He complimented your outfit quite thoughtfully too.

You wondered if Sirius would like it too.

"Did you hear me Y/N?" You blinked, fuck.

"Merlin no, I'm sorry Jacob I got distracted," he lightly chuckled at the apologetic twist in your face "The frills y'know?" you said with a circular motion of your hand. The boy couldn't help but laugh.

"I was just asking if you liked your dessert, you've barely touched it" his lips spread into a small smile as you glanced at the abandoned oversugared pastry sitting in front of you. It wasn't bad, but much like this place, the cloying taste was sticking to your gums.

"No, I did! But maybe we should've shared it I feel like I'm going to go into a diabetic coma," you let out a laugh, standing up, prompting him to do the same. "Do you want to maybe go for a walk?"

His lips split into a wide smile as he dropped the change of galleons onto the table.

"You're a blessing, let's go,"

Maybe this would go better than you had thought.

-

"So?" James wiggled his eyebrows, throwing a look over his shoulder briefly, catching a certain Slytherin staring from the other side of the hall. Jacob turned as red as the Gryffindor table runner. "How was your date with the shy lad over there?"

James could feel Sirius glaring at him from his spot next to you. He hadn't left your side since you came back, an easy smile on your face much to his dismay. You had come just in time for dinner, meeting the boys as they came down.

"it was really good," a smile broke on your face, your hand still felt warm with the ghost of Jacob's. You couldn't help but contrast this new boy and Sirius. The way he asked to hold your hand, Sirius only ever threw his arm around your shoulders, the way he seemed sincere and upfront with his intentions, the way he complimented you at every turn. Genuinely too, his big brown eyes showing nothing but pure kindness.

You struggled to find a time Sirius had genuinely complimented you. One that wasn't from in between his sheets.

"Well don't just spill it all at once," You couldn't help but roll your eyes at James. Impatient fellow wasn't he?

"Well, he took me to Madam Puddifoot's" a collective groan came out of all the boys' mouths.

"So cheesy-" Peter laughed at the thought,

"He's a bloody wanker if you ask me, reject him while we're ahead," Sirius mumbled as he popped a grape into his mouth, regaining his failing appetite. You shook your head, cheeks tinted red. Of course, Sirius would say that. You couldn't even imagine him in that tea shop, much less even considering that you may have liked it. You couldn't help but frown. Although you had a good time, you secretly wished you were out with Sirius instead. You wished he'd compliment you, you wished he'd open the door for you and ask you your favorite flavor of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor bean. You wished he'd hold your hand, you wished he'd kiss your cheek as you said goodbyes. You wished he liked you enough to be bashful at the thought of asking you out.

You wished Sirius would just ask you out.

"Well, I'll have you know I quite enjoyed it," Sirius suddenly didn't feel hungry again, pushing his plate away. "after the abusively sweet dessert caught up with me, we went for a walk," Remus couldn't help but push the plate of food back in front of Sirius, giving him a pointed look.

"We talked a whole lot, he asked me stuff I don't think anyone has ever asked about me before like really detailed stuff," you couldn't help but pause as you thought about it, his interest in the things you liked, your favorite quidditch team, what you thought of your divination class.

"He asked to hold my hand-"

"Who the hell does that?" you failed to notice the kick James sent into Sirius's shins. He kicked back.

"I just haven't had a good time like that in a while, he was so genuine" James and Peter smiled widely, Remus slowly breaking into a smile as well as they all stared at your face. It was obvious you were happy, the way you hadn't stopped repressing a smile, the small bite of your lip as you thought about it more.

James wasn't going to let Sirius ruin it. As Sirius opened his mouth to speak James stepped on his foot as hard as he could.

"We are all very happy it went well," Sirius let out through the pain, and immediately James took back his foot.

"Thanks, Black," you hadn't called him that in ages. Sirius felt his heart clench, as well as his throat. He'd prefer if James stepped on him again.

You didn't last much longer at the Great Hall, waving them goodbye as you went up with Lily and Mary, spilling all the details to them as well.

"You're the bloody wanker Padfoot," James hissed, Sirius rolled his eyes as he pushed his plate of food away. Remus rolled his eyes too. It was like they were taking care of a child at this point.

Sirius stayed quiet, as he rested his cheek on his hand. Eyes looking for the blond on the far side of the Great Hall. He still didn't know which house to look in.

"Don't do anything to the poor boy" Remus frowned, Sirius always had something to bite back with. Always some quip, some remark. But he stayed silent.

Sirius stared blankly at Remus. He didn't know why. But the truth was that he wanted to beat the boy to a pulp. He didn't have a reason. You weren't his, he made sure of that. The kilometer-long distance he put between you and his heart. He didn't have any reason to be jealous, it wasn't his place. There had to be something wrong with the guy.

When he broke your heart you'd run back to Sirius.

-

Sirius didn't care. He didn't care that he could hear your giggles from the other side of the potions classroom as you helped the blond boy. He didn't care that you had disappeared the last two weekends to hang out with him. He heard from Remus you were trying to teach him how to fly. Imbecile.

He didn't care that he hadn't kissed you in two and a half weeks. Not since the day the boy had asked you out. Sirius Black was perfectly fine and did not at all care that you ran to hug Jacob after your latest victory. The boy had been waiting for you at the changing room's door even if it had been a win against his own house. Leaving Sirius standing in the middle of the pitch, being dragged inside by James. Sirius didn't care that you were missing from the victory party thrown later that night. He saw your names floating together on the map, they mocked him as he tried to swallow the knot at his throat. The rest of the night felt like a blur, like the entire world flew around him and he remained still.

In the two weeks since the date, you had drifted so far from his grasp. He missed the smell of your hair, you always smelled vaguely of vanilla. It was spicy and intoxicating and he could never get enough of it. He missed your laughter when he made some stupid joke. He missed having you in his arms. He missed how soft and supple your skin was. He missed the way your lips would curl up in a smirk when he said something vaguely snarky, or when they roped you into some scheme that would definitely land the lot of you in detention. The way you rambled on about constellations and everything else that crossed your mind when you sat at the top of the astronomy tower. The way you would rip away the occasional cigarette from his mouth, talking about these not being the muggle habits he should be picking up, you'd always take a quick drag before putting it out.

He didn't care that he felt a pit at the bottom of his stomach for two weeks.

"Do you think he'll ask me to be his girlfriend?" you felt juvenile even asking, your words had been barely a whisper, they hung heavy in the common room as Lily, Alice, and Frank as well as the marauders all lounged around. It was fairly late, so the place lay otherwise empty. Your arms hugged your legs as you sat in the far corner of the couch, staring directly into the fire not wanting to see anyone's face. You usually were overjoyed at spending time like this, with all of your friends. Alice and Frank's relationship had brought the girls closer to the marauders as Frank was already a close friend. You no longer had to divide your time between your friends and James got to be around Lily.

James was delighted, of course, patting Frank's back with an I knew we were friends for a reason Frankie dear, the first time the girls stuck around to hang out.

But you had felt a tension lately, even with Lily and the rest of the girls. Like they were hesitant about your blooming relationship. Like they all knew something you didn't. Like they were waiting for some other shoe to drop. The smiles Lily shot your way as you talked about the boy and how well he treated you, were the same type of smile she used to give Marlene when she was delusional about some girl last term and didn't have the heart to tell her. James looked at you like you might break any minute, nervous to speak about your romantic affair. Sirius was completely avoiding you. You were scared you were reading too much into the compliments, into the attention you were receiving.

The tension came to a close when James spoke, his body was taking up 90% of the couch you were on, and he lay on his side. You knew his eyes stared into Lily's curled form. His foot poked yours as he spoke lowly,

"What makes you think he wouldn't?"

"Well-"

"None of that," Alice spoke up from Frank's arms on the opposite couch. He slowly fed jellybeans into her mouth as she spoke, the varying flavors making her face scrunch up every so often. "you're so lovely, and if he can't see that and commit then I'll blast him to hell myself," Lily hummed in agreement from her spot on one of the armchairs, sleep tugging at her eyelids.

"Cheers to that," Sirius spoke from his spot on the carpet, spread like a starfish in front of the fire. James wanted to kick his head in the fire. Sirius would probably welcome it at this point. He felt a knot form in his throat at your words.

Peter snored from the armchair next to Lily's.

"There's no reason to think he won't Y/N," Remus said softly from his spot also on the floor, his back resting on the front of the sofa seat, directly in front of you. You carded your fingers through his hair, and he shot you a small smile. You felt pathetic. You stared into the fire.

It wasn't as if Jacob hadn't been clear. He was really into you, and every second that he was free he'd find an excuse to be around you. Even when his housemates looked at him like he was mad. You felt a swirl of emotions clawing at your throat, almost to the point that you couldn't breathe. You wondered what Sirius thought. You hadn't talked in so long.

You almost felt bad at taking every ounce of attention Jacob gave you, you felt terrible. Like you were using him. Godric were you using him?

Were you using this poor boy to get over Sirius?

No! you liked him, he was kind and he never smirked nor got under your skin. He didn't laugh at you or drive you up the wall with his winks and smirks. He was nice and kind. He was kind yes. Probably what you liked best, one of his best qualities. And let's not forget how agreeable his face was, his strong features and dirty blond hair. And his parents were Americans! You didn't hear that often…

You thought back to December. When Sirius read to you in French, with your head on his chest and his fingers running through your hair. The grounds had been covered in white, cold seeping in through the windows. The words on the page, although foreign to you, rolled off his tongue with ease. Sirius had joked that this would be your Christmas present. He chuckled as you covered your face when he took out a little red box from his bedside table.

You fiddled with the thin golden bracelet he gave you that Christmas.

You felt like you were fighting back tears.

-

"Thought you'd be in love and giggling on some corner of the castle," Your feet dangled from the top of the astronomy tower, and although the security of the metal bars made sure you weren't going to fall, the lack of ground under your feet made you feel at the mercy of the air. Your fingerless gloves did little to stop the biting cold and your fingertips looked pale but you moved them nevertheless, taking the lit cigarette out of your mouth. Your large jacket and the sweater you had stolen from their dorm helped a bit, but you had sat unmoving for a good thirty minutes. You briefly thought of a professor finding you frozen in place the next morning. "I also remember you saying we shouldn't be picking these habits up hm?"

Sirius sat on the floor next to you, feet also dangling through the metal bars. His own jacket was zipped up to the top and the black leather material shone under the light of the moon. This was a different jacket from the one he used when he rode around on his stupid muggle motorbike. It was big and the leather looked soft and worn. His pajama bottoms couldn't be providing him with enough heat though… That wasn't really your problem, was it?

He took the cigarette from your fingers taking a drag.

"Not like you ever listen to me Black,"

"I hate it when you call me that," Sirius passed it back to you, his voice low. The cloud emanating from your lips turned and mixed with Sirius's in front of you. The crescent moon highlighted the swirls of smoke dancing in the air.

"And I hate smoking-"

"Then why are we here?" He hummed as he took the cigarette from you, taking another drag and putting it out on the side of the tower.

"Why are you here?" for the first time since he had arrived you turned to look at him. He did not turn to look back. His side profile was enviable. His defined nose, the plump lips, the way his pearly pale skin contrasted against his coal black hair. It was shorter than usual. His mom had maimed his hair during the two days he passed in his household during Christmas. He was trying desperately to grow it out again. The moon seemed to make him almost black and white. It was like watching a monochromatic film, and you were hooked on it.

You thought of the brown tinge his hair had during the summer months.

"Get bored of the blond yet?" you scoffed, taking out the pack of Player's No 6 cigarettes from your jacket pocket.

"He has a name, not that it matters to you" The ribs of the wheel on the lighter scratched at your thumb as you flicked it quickly, but the flickering warmth made your thumb feel like it was finally shedding a layer of ice. You lit your second cigarette of the night.

You really did hate smoking. You didn't answer his question.

Sirius moved his hand to take the cigarette from your mouth, as you let out the smoke. You moved his hand away, offering the pack instead.

He took the container in his hand and chucked it through the air. You watched with wide eyes as it disappeared through the air, the shadow of night covering whatever hint of where they may have landed. He took the cigarette from your lips and took a drag.

"What is up your ass Black?" you snarled at him, you felt your lips quiver as he finally looked at you one of his insufferable smirks on his face.

"You shouldn't be smoking love, it ain't good for ya," he took another drag and offered you the cigarette once again.

You felt like you were going to blow a fuse. You brought your legs back from the brink, tucking them in and using the bars as leverage to swing yourself up. Your fingers clutched the lighter in your pocket tightly. Sirius stared at the spot you had been sitting at.

"You're such a prick Sirius Black," he finally turned to look at you "You can never let me be happy, you won't even let me have my cigarettes,"

"come on love-" you scoffed, you could feel the hot tears welling up in your eyes.

"Dont 'love' me, you're so selfish" You could see his jaw clench, his chest rising as he took a deep breath in surprise. "go find yourself someone else to satisfy your needs, you will not keep me in this vicious loop any longer,"

You made to leave but turned back "His name is Jacob by the way, and I am not in love with him but he doesn't make me cry Sirius," he could see the trail of tears down your cheeks, the glow of the moon reflecting off of them. It was like you were crying starlight. He had never hated his name falling from your lips more than he did this moment.

"And that's all you do," he felt the bile crawling up his throat,

"You make me cry."

[avelera]

Something something… through Viktor’s actions we see his possible linear mental checklist of his goals in life, and those goals included eventually confessing his feelings to Jayce, but before he did he felt he needed to do other things first. Namely:

1) Make Hextech a reality - Check. Viktor and Jayce actually achieved this one by 1.04. They could continue to refine forever but you can tell they both felt a sense of accomplishment in this.

2) Give Hextech to the people - Incomplete. At the end of S1 they had the refined Hextech crystals but the full benefits of their work had not reached the masses. Nor would it/should it ever.

3) Help the Undercity - incomplete, arguably completely unaddressed or even undermined by their work. The Hexgates drew Piltover’s attention away from the Undercity, which is why it languished while Piltover looked to distant markets. Hextech materially made life worse for the Undercity, as the alternate timeline showed us.

4) Hextech innovations lead to a cure for Viktor’s disease and disability - Successful but in the most horrifying way possible, including a body count.

5) Profit - Confess his feelings to Jayce.

(Don’t get too hung up on the order here because obviously a lot of these things could happen concurrently and I don’t think Viktor is stupid he would know that Hextech innovation could take a lifetime and probably wouldn’t wait to confess to Jayce just for that endlessly moving finish line.)

BUT, joking aide, I truly DO think that Viktor is kind and empathetic at his core and he really didn’t plan to confess his feelings to Jayce until he found a cure for his disease, which would require a lot of Hextech innovation to have any hope of reaching. Literally it would take a miracle.

I think Viktor’s belief in his own inadequacy could have festered in the painful doldrums of his own rapidly advancing illness after the initial glow of making the Hexgates happen.

Any hope of finding a cure was always remote, but as his illness advanced, this is when he may have even begun to push Jayce away, knowing the inevitable was coming. He certainly wouldn’t confess feelings to someone he loved with his days so numbered.

And that’s where I think a thread of actual resentment towards Mel might have crept in. To be fair, I don’t think Viktor hated her as a person, as such, nor was he a swooning teenager wracked by petty jealousy. But I think it must have stung to have his days so numbered and have this woman who represented everything he couldn’t offer to Jayce: health, wealth, beauty, position, prestige, etc distracting his attention away during what might be Viktor’s final days.

The thing is, I think rationally Viktor didn’t say anything because again, his days were numbered and Jayce and Mel were happy and well suited and beautiful and perfect together. He had nothing to offer. And it would be cruel to drag Jayce back just so Jayce would have to mourn him even more. Then as a result, Viktor was even more consumed by trying to save his own life by a miracle, though he now had to do it more alone than he ever predicted he would have to.

But there’s that horrible catch 22. He can’t tell Jayce how he feels because he might fail and die anyway and that would be cruel to someone he loves. But if he doesn’t tell Jayce, Jayce won’t come back to his side to help him out with the research needed to maybe save it.

Then Sky dies to the Hexcore and Viktor realizes just how much he’d lost of the parts of himself he liked, the parts that cared about helping others as PART of the cure for himself, and truly just gave up on any of it. He made his peace, decided to support Jayce during the emancipation of Zaun as a sort of ambassador, and resigned himself to the fact this would be the end for him.

Well, we know what happened next. Jayce saved his life, against Viktor’s wishes, using Viktor’s now-hates innovation.

Ok so now for the part that I was trying to get to:

A newly healed Viktor now has to reevaluate his life’s work checklist. It’s a much shorter list now.

1) Save his own life - check.

2) Figure out a way to make the world a better place - check.

3) Confess to Jayce now that you’re proud of who you are both inside and outside. You are finally worthy of him. You will finally live long enough that confessing isn’t an act of cruelty. You finally have achievements that make you worthy to proposition the creator of Hextech and the man you love, who is as far as you know, currently dating the physical embodiment of perfection.

And that explains Viktor’s catwalk into the Council Chamber in 2.08. He’s decked out in Mel’s colors. He’s ready to compete. He’s perfect now. He’s found a way to save humanity from itself. He is now worthy of Jayce and in a place where he can actually offer a lifetime together.

And Jayce rejects him.

This stuns Viktor. Actually, it fully knocks him into a villain arc, because Jayce has never refused him anything before. And Viktor can’t comprehend why his checklist didn’t work. Why did becoming perfect not work?

Because Jayce didn’t need the checklist. He’d already broken up with Mel. He didn’t need Viktor to be healed or to have already saved the world or to be anything else but Jayce’s partner. Jayce would have been happier if Viktor proposed at Step 0, but Viktor thought that would be a cruelty if he didn’t have a cure yet.

But I truly think Jayce would have preferred even just a day as Viktor’s official partner if that was all they got over a decade of being held at arm’s length until “everything was perfect”.

And that’s what Viktor doesn’t understand.

And that’s what Jayce had to show him in that final act of love.

[chaoticwriting]

YOU'RE MARRIED??!! 5

The next day, Danny wakes up as the sunlight shines upon his face. He can feel a figure laying in his arms breathing lightly and they lay there together as the sun rises and birds chirp from outside the window.

Looking down on his body, he realizes that he is wearing the bare minimum and the same could be said about the figure that is sleeping in his arm. His hazy mind starts to clear as he remembers the events before they fell asleep.

No, they didn't go too far last night. They are afraid the room is not insulated enough in case they decide to get 'loud'. There is also the consideration that they might need to wake up early today so it would be good if they are not heavily tired before going to bed.

Suddenly, he feels the figure that has his arms wrapped around her wiggle a little. Her small black eyes open and stare at him processing her situation.

Danny: Good morning, sweetheart. How is your sleep?

Cass: Good. Very warm.

Danny: How about we get ready for breakfast? Knowing Ellie, she is probably on her way right now.

Cass agrees with Danny as she knows that Ellie is very much so a morning person. Cass and Danny enter the shower and after a little shower, they dress up and prepare for breakfast.

Cass sits in front of her mirror as she dries her hair with the towel. Although she has a hair dryer, she never really uses it as she doesn't like the hot air. Danny that is sitting on the bed, sees the gift box that he gives to Cass.

He picks it up and opens it to see the necklace in there, a little different from how he first puts it. A little relieved, Danny takes it out and slowly walks behind her.

Cass is combing her hair when suddenly, Danny's hands wrapped around her neck and soon she is wearing the necklace that Danny gave to her.

Danny: Do you know that the necklace is special?

Cass: What do you mean?

Danny: It is crafted by Hephaestus and enchanted by Merlin. Of course, it is all under the supervision of yours truly. When you wear it, you will receive a form of protection against any form of lethal damage. It will also accelerate your healing factor and enhance your physical body. You are also immune to mind control and possession.

Cass: What?!

Danny: That's not all, if you don't like the color or size of the gem, you can easily change it. Pretty neat right?

Cass: Woah, back up. What do you mean it can do all of that? I have never seen it do that before.

Danny: Have you ever been in any of the situations I list off just now?

Cass: No.

Danny: Exactly. Anyway, the enhanced body will not be that obvious right now since it is a gradual thing. If you wear it enough, you can probably brawl with Superman. Although you will probably need to wait for a few decades for that.

Cass: Isn't that dangerous? What if someone bad gets this necklace?

Danny: No worries. I connect the necklace with your soul so that no one else can use it. Even if you don't wear it when those things happen, it will automatically appear on you when you need it or summon it.

Cass: Woah, thank you Danny.

Danny: No need to thank me. Though if you really want to, I do have a few ideas.

Cass smirks at Danny but before anything can happen their door gets knocked on by a little tiny hand.

Ellie: Mama! Papa! Are you awake yet? Alfred asked me to call you. Breakfast is ready.

Cass: Yes, honey. Mama and Papa will be right there.

Cass turns towards the disappointed Danny and gives him a little peck. Danny just smiles wryly and they both walk towards the door and open it to see a little figure, dressed in a green dress hugging them.

Danny picks Ellie up and the 3 of them walk to the kitchen. Along the way, Ellie tells Danny about her experience living in the mansion for the past few weeks. From how delicious Alfred's cooking is to how many animals Damian has in his barn.

Danny just nods and laughs at the few funny stories Ellie tells and just right before they enter the dining room, Cass asks a very weird question.

Cass: So, Ellie. Who is your favorite aunt or uncle?

Before Ellie can answer, Danny sees a few figures, sitting on the dining table perking up when they hear Cass's question.

Ellie: Hmmm, I like Uncle Dick because his is very nice but he likes to make weird jokes that I don't understand. Uncle Jason is very funny but he always tries to make me read books. Uncle Tim is a little weird but also very funny. One time, I see him fall asleep into a bowl of cereal. Hihi. I don't really see Aunt Barbara much. I also like Aunt Steph because she always gives me glitters but I think Grandpa Bruce doesn't like it when we glitter his suit. Uncle Duke sometimes brings me to play with his club friends so I also like him. Uncle Damian is very grumpy but he has a lot of pets so I also like him.

With each word Ellie says, all of them become more on edge. Some of them even have the disappointed looks on their face when Ellie talks about them. Especially, Tim. His face is as red as a tomato right now. Dick and Jason try to defend themselves but all of it falls into deaf ears while Steph and Duke are glaring at each other as they are really the only 2 competition. At least they think so. Damian is really just there frowning.

Ellie: My favorite is of course, Aunt Jazz.

Silence falls in the dining room. Everyone expects a lot of answers but that is certainly not it.

Dick: Ellie, who is Jazz?

Ellie: Aunt Jazz! She is Papa's sister. She always takes care of me when Papa goes to work. She is very nice and always brings me to visit Grandpa Jack and Grandma Maddie. She isn't very good at cooking though so it is usually Uncle Dan that cooks for us.

Danny: Dan and Jazz are my siblings. They take care of Ellie most of the time I'm not home so they are very close with each other.

While Ellie is talking, Danny and Cass have already seated themselves with Ellie right in the middle of them. Before they can continue, Alfred comes in with their food and they start eating.

[dirtyvulture]

Knight Falls - Part 3

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Wolverine!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk (Blood, violence, torture)

Summary: Your perfect life with Natasha isn't meant to stay that way with the Red Room still looking for her.

Word count: 3030

AN: It’s been 84 years since the last update, but I truly thank everyone for their recent interest in this fic and for giving me the motivation to keep going!

Click here to refresh your memory with Part 2.

“Again? Are you sure?”

“Why not? It’s not like she has somewhere to be.”

Dr. Cornelius’s bald head leans into your peripherals. He’s wearing his signature mirrored glasses so you can see your reflection in them: the hair matted to your forehead, the sickly paleness of your skin, the dilation of fear in your pupils.

“You’re our most generous donor,” Dr. Cornelius says, patting your arm with a heavy hand. You try cringing away from his touch, but you’re bolted to the table at every joint. The things you would do to this man if you were free. “Besides, you have to pay for your upkeep somehow, right?”

You growl in response to his words. You don’t try speaking to them anymore. They’d never listen to you anyway. 

In the background, metal scrapes against metal and the clanging strikes a chord of fear in your chest. It’s not easy to move your head but you still try, until you see one of the surgeons back at your side with a scalpel shining in the bright overhead lights. 

“What haven’t we taken today?” Dr. Cornelius asks. 

The surgeon shrugs, his expression unreadable behind a mask. You wonder if he takes enjoyment in this, or he’s just following orders. There’s a lot of each around here. All spineless cowards to you.

“How about the liver?” Dr. Cornelius suggests, pushing down on your stomach. You squirm uncomfortably, but no matter what you do, you can’t escape him. Ever since these sick psychopaths got their hands on you, they weren’t going to let you go.

“Sure.” 

Before you even have a chance to register the surgeon’s response, his scalpel presses into your side until it breaks the skin. Blood rolls down to the metal slab you’re lying on. You can’t block out the pain as he saws through you, but you’ve learned to disassociate from it. If they were going to treat you like an object, you needed to pretend to be one to survive.

***********************************************************************

You come to slowly, your head pounding like someone took a sledgehammer repeatedly to your skull. Light worsens your headache so you squint while you get your bearings. You find yourself strapped tightly to a table, heavy blocks of metal encasing both of your hands. There’s even some kind of solid muzzle over your mouth, restricting your breathing. 

Your first thought doesn’t go to the countless times you’ve been in this position before, it goes to the one that landed you here: Taskmaster standing over you with a gun pointed between your eyes. Your forehead throbs at the memory, but since you actually remember what happened, your healing must be functioning as normal, despite the extreme sluggishness that weighs you down. You pull aggressively at your binds, but you’re cinched tight to the table.

Panic builds inside of you.

Screaming doesn’t do anything. Neither does begging them to stop. Which is why you don’t do it anymore. You lie there like a fish, your eyes glazed over and unseeing, even though you are completely aware of everything happening to you.

Your skin tearing open. The blood pouring out of you that they don’t even try to staunch. Being ripped apart and put together more times than you can count.

The muzzle makes it impossible for you to take a full breath and the anxiety overrides your control. You hyperventilate frantically, but it’s still not enough air and the ache in your lungs starts to build. It feels like you’re drowning in fear and panic and you completely forgot how to stay calm. 

You never thought you’d find yourself in this position again. You promised yourself you wouldn’t let it happen. 

You squeeze your eyes shut and try moving your whole body, but your legs down to your ankle are held in place by metal restraints. A band over your chest presses down like someone’s knee in your sternum. The fear of not being in control is crushing like a weight of its own and you fight harder, until the metal starts cutting into your wrists. But you won’t stop, afraid that you might never make it out if you do. 

“Y/N. Y/N!”

Your head whips around painfully against the restraint locked around your neck. Natasha is crouched a few feet away from you, blocked behind a wall of jail bars. You try to speak but your words are muffled by the muzzle. 

She squeezes her arm through the bar, straining to reach you. Her fingertips barely brush your forearm, but her touch is instantly calming. 

“It’s okay. I’m here,” she says, trying to be brave for the both of you, but you can smell her fear mingling with yours. There’s a cut with dried blood on her forehead, but she seems okay otherwise. At least the two of you were together. You focus on your breaths again, forcing yourself to take them slowly and as deeply as you can. Your heart rate falls and the panic begins to melt away.

Natasha has never seen you like this before. The crazed look in your eyes when you woke up, the desperation in which you tried to unsuccessfully free yourself. She knows it must be traumatizing and embarrassing for you to be in a position of helplessness. She wishes she could be closer to you, to hold you, to tell you that everything will be okay, but she’s stuck behind the bars in a cage and can barely reach you. 

“I love you,” she blurts out, in case she doesn’t get a chance to say the words again. “I love you so much and I’m going to get us out of here, I promise.” You cannot speak, but you look at her with pure adoration and trust. 

“I’m not sure where we are,” she says, filling the silence. “I woke up a few times before they brought us in here. But I think we’re on some kind of aircraft–”

At that moment, your surroundings jolt and Natasha falls back in her cell. You know you aren’t going anywhere with the table bolted to the floor, but the motion is jarring and worrying. Escape would be a lot more difficult if there was nowhere for you two to go.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Natasha whimpers, curling into a ball. You can’t stand to see her like this, even more frustrated because you can’t do anything to assure her. A growl rumbles in your throat as you tug pointlessly at your arms yet again. “It should be me on that table. You warned me going after the Red Room would be dangerous, but I didn’t think it’d end like this.”

You grunt in disagreement. You had no regrets going to that Russian home with her and you wanted her to know that.  

“If we get out of here,” she continues in a lower voice, “Maybe I should leave y–”

Before she can finish her sentence, the door swings open and three men walk in, Taskmaster among them. Instantly, the hairs on the back of your neck rise in warning. The shortest man struts over to Natasha’s cell, and the scent of fear that rolls off her is so strong it nearly chokes you.

“Natalia,” Dreykov greets as Natasha shrinks back to the corner of the cell. “Glad to see you back in the Red Room.” You growl to get his attention away from her. “Oh.” He slowly turns as if he completely missed you lying there. “Forgive me for not introducing myself.” 

He comes to your side. He smells like cologne, sweat, and a trace of fear. It makes you feel minutely better that even though you’re strapped to a slab of metal and rendered nearly immovable, he’s still scared of you. “You may address me as General Dreykov, and I think you’re already well-acquainted with Taskmaster.”

An insult is muffled by your muzzle. 

Dreykov chuckles. “We’ve been waiting a long time to get our hands on the both of you. You certainly didn’t make it easy.” He steps back as Taskmaster opens Natasha’s cell door and goes inside to grab her.

“Don’t touch me!” she screams. You yank at your restraints again; you’re not above skinning yourself if you have to. If the two of you are separated, there’s no telling what this man could do to her.

“You stay right here,” Dreykov says, as Taskmaster drags Natasha by. She tries reaching out for you again but Taskmaster pins her arms to her sides. “Dr. Morozov is happy to keep you company.” 

“Natasha!” you try to scream, but it’s unintelligible. 

“Y/N, I’ll come back for you, I’ll–” Taskmaster carries her out of the room, Dreykov following behind. The third man, thin and tall, dressed in surgeon’s attire, is left alone with you. While his physical presence isn’t very intimidating to you, the fact that he’s in a total position of power over you scares you the most.

“I heard you’re in possession of a substance we are very, very interested in,” Dr. Morozov says, his voice high and squeaky compared to Dreykov’s. “I told General Dreykov I had to come see you for myself.” He disappears from your vision but returns, pushing a rattling metal tray of instruments. Panic surges through you again, but you swallow the fear and try to stay calm.

“General Dreykov tasked me with removing this adamantium from your bones,” Dr. Morozov says, sounding giddy with excitement as he picks up a scalpel. “He isn’t sure if it’s even possible, and will most likely kill you in the process, but that’s a small sacrifice in the grand scheme of things.” He brings the blade into your left forearm, cutting your skin from your wrist to your elbow. You snarl and struggle, but he presses the blade deeper and deeper until it clangs against metal. “Aha!”

You need an escape route now. You refuse to lay here and be picked to pieces by yet another crazed surgeon. Your breathing quickens again, but this time you’re totally in control. 

“General Dreykov said you had…hmm, what was the word he used?” Dr. Morozov goes on. But your arm is already healing, so he cuts it open again and uses a clamp to hold it open. Adrenaline rushes through your veins so strongly you don’t even feel the pain for a moment, and that’s exactly what you need. Dr. Morozov is so busy studying your left arm, he doesn’t notice you tugging on your right arm. 

You tense your bicep so hard it feels like it’s going to tear out of your skin. The restraints are too tight so they pinch into your skin as it bunches up at your wrist, but you keep pulling until it starts to cut through. With one last breath to ready yourself for the pain, you yank with all your strength and your skin peels off your hand.The loss of the top layer creates enough room to slip your hand through the restraint, the blood acting like a lubricant. 

“Claws!” Dr. Morozov says suddenly.

If you didn’t feel so sick you would’ve laughed at the irony as you swing your right arm up and release your claws into the center of his chest. Dr. Morozov is dead before he collapses onto the floor. You tear the muzzle off your face first, then use your claws to cut through the remaining restraints. By the time you’re free, the skin on your arm and hand has healed back. You stand up, overwhelmed with nausea and pain, but it passes after you steady yourself on the table.

You check if Dr. Morozov has a security badge of some kind and find one in his pocket, stealing it for your own use and leaving the room. You’ve been dressed in a white shirt and sweatpants, now stained with your blood. You’re not sure why you feel so sick, maybe you had been drugged or were still recovering from being shot point-blank in the head. Either way, you don’t have time to sit and recover. You need to find Natasha. 

Following Dreykov’s scent down the hall, you dodge around corners and climb a few flights of stairs. It’s a miracle you don’t run into anyone, but something tells you it had been specifically set up this way. You use Dr. Morozov’s badge to pass foot-thick security doors, cautious to stay on guard in case of an ambush. But you hardly have time to be concerned with your own well-being when Natasha is with Dreykov. 

The thought of that slimy, vile man putting his hands on your girlfriend makes your stomach knot into a pretzel. Natasha had told you stories of what he had done to her and made other Widows do. While you could no longer be surprised by the vileness of humanity, it broke your heart to hear about the horrible things Natasha had been subjected to. Finding the Red Room would be her way of getting closure from that, but it seemed like whatever plan she had had utterly fallen apart with the surprise of Taskmaster. You have to find her before anything worse can happen to her.

Dreykov’s cologne intensifies and you trace the scent to a large door cracked slightly ajar, where his and Natasha’s voices drift out of.

“Don’t tell me to stop!” Dreykov screams, and his genuine anger causes you to pause in alarm.

“If I don’t tell you when to stop, how will you know to shut up?” Natasha responds, then the unmistakable noise of flesh against bone. 

“Natasha!” you yell, going into motion once more. But before you can get through the door, a massive figure drops down from the ceiling and plants their feet against your chest, sending you flying back into a metal wall so hard it dents around your body. For a moment, you can’t even breathe and you’re certain your entire ribcage has collapsed. 

Each miniscule breath you manage is like swords shoved through your lungs and you truly feel the weight of the metal on your bones as you struggle to get up. You lose track of Taskmaster until he slams onto the back of your head. Your metal skull rebounds against the floor and despite its added protection, your brain was just as vulnerable as anyone’s. Professor Xavier had warned you numerous times how much more severe brain injuries could be for you because your brain was literally cocooned in a metal shell. 

You had never really believed him until now.

No thoughts pass through your mind as you teeth rattle like candy and your vision blurs like someone has taken an eraser to half of it. Taskmaster grabs you by the shoulders and hauls you back to your feet. You hate how he easily he throws you around. Very few people could make you feel like a ragdoll. The claws rip out from between your knuckles and you slash out wildly, but he drops you before you can land a fatal strike. You aren’t focused so much on actually hurting him as you are distracting him. You need to keep him at bay long enough for your brain to heal. 

But you have no awareness of your surroundings, out of your environment and in an already-weakened state. The floor trembles beneath Taskmaster’s weight as he closes in on you. You swing without being able to see and feel the pull of your claws as it strikes against something, but it isn’t enough. Taskmaster’s claws stab through your back and steal your breath. You fly through the air, this time colliding with the ceiling and punching right through, landing on the floor above. 

You’re so disoriented in the settling dust you don’t see Taskmaster emerge from the hole you came through, stabbing you in the leg to drag you back down. Rage overtakes the pain at the thought that this man has simply turned you into his plaything, so when you fall back through the hole, you give in to your animal instincts and attack him. 

You slash and punch and kick in an unpredictable pattern because you aren’t thinking anymore. Taskmaster falls into a defensive mode and you sense hesitation as he backs away from you. Gaining some ground back lulls you into a false sense of security, and you don’t realize until it’s too late that he wasn’t hesitating. He was studying you, picking up on your style and techniques instantly to use back against you. 

After a blow that scores three long gouges across his chest plate, he launches at you in a frenzy that rivals your own. You have no protection like he does, and his claws, although not made of adamantium, are still durable and sharp enough to take chunks out of you. Blood splatters the walls and you’re forced to play defensively again after he punctures your lung and cripples both your legs by slicing your hamstrings in half. You crawl away from him, refusing to beg for your life but too scared to fight him more. You’ve never fought anything like him. 

Taskmaster looms over you as you shrink down, wheezing, the last fire of a fight fading in your eyes. He grabs the scruff of your neck like he would to a dog, stabbing you in the chest until blood spurts out of your mouth.

Despite that you easily outweigh the average male, he easily drags you into Dreykov’s office and kicks the door open.

Natasha is standing over Dreykov at his desk, blood dripping from her crooked nose. You wish you had the energy to break free and punch Dreykov in the face, but you barely cling onto consciousness as Taskmaster drops you like a sack of bricks.

“Y/N!” Natasha shouts.

Taskmaster pulls out a gun and presses it into the back of your head as you struggle to get up. 

“Don’t,” Natasha begs. 

You grit your bloody teeth, wanting to tell her that a little lead wouldn’t kill you. 

“That is not for her,” Dreykov says, pointing at Taskmaster’s gun. “It’s for you.”

Before you can even blink, Taskmaster removes the gun from your head and aims it at Natasha.

BANG.

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

AN: Sorry to leave yall on ANOTHER cliffhanger. But one more part to go :)

Please leave likes, comments, and reblog! Follow for more content. 🥰

[hard-core-super-star]

is it casual now? [wandanat]

pairing: top!natasha romanoff x bottom!wanda maximoff

summary: wanda gives in to her desire for natasha but runs away for fear of overstepping. natasha runs after her and shows her she has nothing to fear.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS WALK AWAY -> [porn with feelings and a sprinkle of plot; flirty tension; so much banter; kissing during training because duh; first times; natasha is soft af!; fingering; cunnilingus; wanda’s a brat; praising; brief nipple play because nat’s a boob girl; far too many metaphors]

wordcount: 5k

a/n: HI! I was sick all of last week which sucked BUT writing this fic has brought me back to life. can you tell I’m in my wandanat era? I just love their dynamic, I can’t get enough. anyway, own my mind is getting a part two soon and I’m hoping to do a part two to stark!reader x Kate so keep an eye out for that. that being said, I hope you enjoy and thank you to the lovely soul that commissioned this <3

* * * * * * *

Training with Natasha is driving Wanda mad.

Don't get her wrong, she loves spending time with the redhead. Loves the easy confidence the older woman brings out of her, the easy back and forth banter that amuses her while they pretend like they won't hold back their punches.

For once in her life, Wanda is able to enjoy "easy". There's no danger looming over her that threatens to destroy her newfound home. No need to hide who she is and the power that thrums in her veins because Natasha understands her.

She doesn't need her to be anything else than who she is, powers and all. It's terrifying and yet so gratifying and the same time. 

And yet, despite how easy it all should be, she can't help but feel trapped. Locked in a cage of her own making.

All because she's too scared to admit her feelings.

It's not like she doesn't know how the older woman feels. She's seen it in the softness of her gaze when she patches her up after a mission, felt it in the lingering touches during meetings, heard it in her voice when she calls her name in the middle of a sparring match.

The evidence of their shared feelings is bountiful and yet she's still scared. Scared of losing the one person she's grown so close to, so used to. The one person she needs more than anyone else.

She promised herself she wouldn't let her guard down after Pietro, after Sokovia. That being with the Avengers would be temporary. Her one chance at a new life.She'd said she would leave as soon as she'd gotten back on her feet...or as soon as Tony Stark grew far too unbearable.

However, her tentative friendship with Natasha had happened before either of the futures she'd imagined for herself. Most days, she wasn't even sure how it happened, she just knew she couldn't imagine anything else. Couldn't bear the thought of looking behind her and not seeing the older woman there.

It left her feeling far more vulnerable than she liked but...there was an edge of safety she thought she'd never get to feel again. A sense of belonging with someone. Of not needing to carry her burdens alone.

Maybe that's why she allows herself to let her guard down. To stop holding back and allow her feelings to take over when she's around Natasha.

In the moment, it seemed like the right thing to do. Like the only way to move past the trauma that weighed her down with every breath she took. Sure, she knew nothing would truly "fix" her past, but having someone who understood her and wasn't actively trying to change her seemed like a good way to start her healing journey.

Although, truth be told, it's not her healing journey that motivates her to spend more time with the Widow. It's her massive crush on her.

Natasha, ever the observant woman, notices the way their dynamic shifts. The way Wanda slowly grows more confident, more bold in her compliments, with every day that goes by. It's strange at first, but she finds herself actually liking the attention. Enjoying the way the subtle flirting keeps her on her toes.

She knows it's unprofessional and frankly reckless, but she finds herself caring about that less and less as the days go by.

Especially when training with Wanda becomes less and less about working on their fighting techniques and more about how many flirty comments they can get away with before one them calls the other out.

Maybe it's that growing boldness that leads them to this.

Wanda knows she's crossing some sort of boundary. That there's no way she can hide behind excuses or act like what she's doing is a normal training move.In her defense, she doesn't even know how she got here.

One second, Natasha was teasing her, playfully making fun of her and telling her she wouldn't be able to get her down onto the mat. The next, they were sparing but not in the usual, technique-heavy way. And maybe that's what convices her to use her powers.

She'd avoided using them in the Avengers Compound after what she'd done to the team. The last she needed was to give them more reasons to resent her.

But in that moment, under the careful eyes of the Widow, she gave in to the urge.

Technically it was cheating, but it was her only way of proving Natasha wrong. So, she used her powers to distract the older woman long enough to sweep her legs out from under her.

That wasn't enough for her, though. No, she also had to take advantage of the moment and get on top of Natasha to straddle her and keep her down. "Gotcha."

It's not often that the Black Widow herself can say she's been completely blindsided. But here, under the witch, she can admit she's been bested. And she secretly loves it.

"It doesn't count," she replies, the smile on her face showing off how little she minds. "You cheated."

“Try not to sound so jealous, ‘Tasha.”

Natasha rolls her eyes as her hands attempt to grab hold of the witch’s waist. “I’m not jealous.”

Wanda beats her to it, her fingers easily wrapping around her wrists and bringing them down over her head. The movement is so smooth, so easy, that she almost doesn’t realize what she’s doing. At least, until she ends up with her face inches away from the older woman’s.

The proximity doesn't startle her like it should, though. It doesn't lead to her stammering out apologies while blushing a share of red far darker than the Widow's hair. All it does is fuel the flurry of bad ideas she's been having lately. Ideas of seeing what would happen if she allowed herself to cross that line between flirty, friendly, banter and desire.

Suddenly, it doesn't seem so crazy.With Natasha staring up at her with that charming smirk and their breaths mixing in the small space between their faces, it suddenly seems...easy. Obvious, even. Like all her running has been unnecessary.

Ironically, the older woman seems to read her mind.

"Are you going to keep staring or are you going to do something?"

Those words, that one question, is all the encouragement she needs to throw her fears to the side and surrender to what she wants. What she truly wants. Not what she thinks she has to do to survive, not what other people tell her she has to do, but what she wants to do.

Even if she's read the situation wrong, even if Natasha doesn't feel the same, the fact that she's able to make her own choice is already more than enough for her. More than she ever thought she'd be able to get after joining HYDRA.

Wanda doesn't give it another thought. She barely even lets herself breathe. She simply leans down the rest of the way and allows her lips to connect with Natasha's.

It's truly a simple action.

A quick kiss between people who shouldn't have even fallen for each other in the first place.

And yet, it's everything she's ever longed for.In that kiss, she tastes everything she thought she'd never find. She feels things she thought were too far from her reach.

Freedom.

Understanding.

Passion.

She feels it all in magnitudes that rival even her own powers.

And then it stops.

The sound of the doors of the training room slamming open break them apart. They not only jump apart but they quickly scramble to get up, putting as much distance between each other as they can while not looking suspicious.It's frankly a little ridiculous but it's an instinct neither of them can ignore. One that's just as ingrained in Natasha as it is in Wanda.

Which means she doesn't have to run.

Deep down, she knows she doesn't have to run anymore. That she can stay and not feel guilty about what she's done. About the feelings she's finally letting herself admit.

There's nothing wrong with how she feels, she knows that. And yet, when she's standing there, watching Natasha talk to Tony about whatever annoying thing he's so passionate about this time, she feels like she's never been more wrong in her life. She feels as if she's crossed a line she should have never approached in the first place.

And suddenly, the fear of losing the older woman slams into her all at once.

The Widow notices, of course. Not just because she can see the flickers of panic that shoot across the witch's face, but because she feels it. Wanda quite literally reaches out to her, subconsciously and telepathically, and sends that same fear down her spine.Natasha, being a lot more in control of her emotions than Wanda is most of the time, instantly notices something is wrong. There's no reason for her to feel so panicked, which means the fear filling her mind is coming from outside of herself.

Her eyes shift over to the witch and before she can even attempt to reassure her, Wanda turns around and walks away from them. She wishes she could say seeing her leave doesn't hurt, but it does. It brings back fears she thought she'd long gotten rid of long before they'd even met. Fears of not being enough, of being too much, too dangerous, unable to feel emotions properly. 

For all of Tony's self-centeredness, he notices the change in her mood almost instantly. She'd love to give him credit, but she's pretty sure the only reason he can tell something is wrong is because her eyes follow Wanda as she walks out of the training room. If anything, it's his constant need to be the center of attention that allows him to pick up on the lingering tension in her stance.

“Hey, uh, is everything okay with you guys?" He asks, looking at her over the rim of his ridiculous sunglasses. 

Natasha sighs, stuck between wanting to tell her friend the truth and not wanting to reveal far more than she should. It's not like she doesn't trust him, but she knows him and the Sokovian have a very...tense relationship most days. She can't really fault the younger woman for that, even when it makes her own friendships more complicated than she would like.

“Yeah, we're fine," she replies, throwing in a good-natured shrug. "It's been a long morning."

Tony doesn't seem to fully buy her excuse but he doesn't push. He just nods and goes back to complaining about Steve and his dumb mission plan. Which means she goes back to pretending like she's listening while her mind drifts to thoughts of Wanda.

Of her hands on her waist, the feeling of her lips against her own, the warmth that spreads in her gut whenever she thinks about the way she looked under her.

"Okay, what's going on with you?" Tony asks after she zones out for the tenth time. "Did the little witch sink her fangs into you that deep?"

Natasha groans, barely holding in the urge to smack that stupid, smug grin off his face. "Don't call her that, idiot. And she didn't do anything, I'm just tired, I already told you."

Her words only make his grin grow into a smirk. "Tired because-"

“Don't you dare finish that sentence."

Despite his obvious amusement, he relents. Mainly because he really doesn't want to get punched...again, but also because he can tell there's something deeper than just annoyance in the Widow's words. A twinge of stress she can't hide.

“Okay, fine. Just go get your girl."

"She's not my- You know what? Never mind."

Natasha takes the opportunity and instantly speeds away from Tony, silently cursing herself for not having left earlier. She can only imagine what Wanda thinks of her now. Of the cowardice she let herself show by not running after her like she should have.

Even though she wants nothing more than to go to her own room and overthink her decisions, her feet carry her straight to the young witch. Time seems to blur as she makes her way down hallways, past endless doors that offer private places to sulk like she wants to.

But she can't. She can't go back to acting like she doesn't care about the Sokovian. Back to acting like her feelings are irrelevant when they're the only thing she thinks about. When the only thing she wants is to be with Wanda.

Before she can stop herself by thinking far too much about the consequences of what she's doing, she knocks on the younger woman's door. A few moments go by, moments filled with endless thoughts, each one more anxiety-inducing than the last.

(Especially the ones about the likelihood of Tony watching her through the stupid security cameras because he's bored and far too nosy for his own sake)

Thankfully, Wanda opens the door before she can spiral too much.

"Can I help you?" Her voice is even, not too soft but not too rough. Just inviting enough for the Widow to not back down. For her to believe she still has a chance.

“Yes, we have some unfinished business to take care of."

"You make it sound like I'm paperwork." The witch rolls her eyes, although the petulance in her stance comes from nervousness instead of annoyance.

Natasha can't help but chuckle. "You're not paperwork, princess. I just have one more thing I need to do."

Wanda narrows her eyes at that, not even trying to hide her interest. "Is that so? And what is it you need from me?"

They're both well aware they're acting far more serious than they have to, but they can't help playing along. Almost like they're subconsciously trying to gauge how they're feeling. If anything has changed after being so rudely interrupted.

Truth be told, something has changed for Natasha. Not in a massively drastic way...unless her coming to the conclusion that she can't run away from her feelings is drastic.

"Aren't you a mind reader?" She replies, arching her eyebrow.

If there was any doubt about what exactly she had been planning to do, they vanish in an instant. All Wanda can really do is reach out to take the older woman's hand and drag her into her room.

Once the door closes behind her, Natasha flips them around, her hands finding their way onto the witch's waist as she holds her there. Their gazes meet and the air between them seems to crackle with the electricity of their barely contained desire.

They both know they should tread carefully, that there are things they need to talk about, feelings they need to put out in the open before things escalate. It's hard to think rationally about how they feel when they're locked together like this. When all they want is to crash their lips together and forget the rest of the world.

Natasha forces herself to be responsible, though. To give the younger woman the last word. To give her back the control so many people took away from her by force.

"Is this still what you want?" She asks, her voice softer than she's ever let it be. "Because I can go."

Wanda answers almost instantly, her hands gripping the Widow's shoulders. There's an urgency there that neither of them dares comment on, even though they both feel it. "Don't you dare leave."

The older woman almost wants to laugh. To tease and poke the witch like she usually does. But she can't. 

She can't because she knows that not what Wanda needs. Hell, it's not what she needs either. She told herself she wouldn't run anymore and she's not about to break her promise.

"I won't."

Natasha lets her words hang in the air for a few seconds, her eyes quickly searching her face for any signs of hesitation or regret. She doesn't find anything like that, though. The younger woman simple stares at her with that borderline reverent look she wears so well.

She's not sure which one of them breaks first.

All she knows is one second she's staring into Wanda's eyes and the next, they're surging forward and letting their lips meet once more.

This time, in the privacy of Wanda's room, she's able to lose herself completely. To allow the feeling of her lips to overwhelm her senses, to drown out the thoughts that scream at her that she's not enough. That she hasn't done enough to make up for her past.

It's hard for her thoughts to take shape when she's like this, though. Pressed so close to the witch that they're practically one, their bodies fitting together and painting a beautiful picture of reserved desperation.

Well, out of the two, Natasha seems to be the only reserved one. Her hands haven't moved from the younger woman's waist and her grip is surprisingly soft for someone capable of such strength. 

Wanda, on the other hand, is having a much harder time containing herself. Her hands are everywhere, fingers digging into the fabric of the Widow's shirt as if it's personally offended her. It's impossible for them to get any closer and yet she keeps trying, pulling and pulling as if that will make them become one.

It's unclear where exactly that desperation is coming from, but it's not unwelcome by either of them. It's almost...freeing, in its own weird way. Allowing them to explore parts of themselves they'd long pushed down.

“Careful, princess," Natasha whispers once she's able to pull away. "I'm not going anywhere, you know?"

“Shut up." The witch's cheeks are tinted a soft shade of pink which makes her words less effective.

Unfortunately for her, the Widow is enjoying herself far too much. "Make me."

All Wanda can really do is roll her eyes. "You're annoying."

"Don't be a brat, sweetheart," the older woman warns. "I won't hesitate to put you in your place."

The witch does what she can to hide the shudder of pleasure that runs down her spine. While she had no specific expectations about what things would be like with Natasha, she'd be lying if she said she wasn't looking forward to being under her spell. To allow someone who cares about her to take control.

Even without words, the Widow knows exactly where the younger woman's thoughts go. It's impossible to ignore the way her breath picks up, the way the green in her eyes gets swallowed by dark desire.

“Oh, I see, you'd like that, wouldn't you? You want me to give you what you need?"

It's a tease as much as it is a search for permission. She needs Wanda to tell her what she truly wants before she can allow them to keep going. She needs to make sure they're on the same page about this. That they won't go too far too fast and ruin the bond they'd carefully created.

Wanda, for better or for worse, isn't as predictable as the Widow wants. Instead of an admittance of submission, a clear description of her desires, she meets the challenge with one of her own.

She uses her grip on Natasha to push her backward, allowing the energy between them to shift once more. It's a dance they're used to. The push and pull that appears naturally thanks to their personalities.

“You don't have to give it to me," Wanda replies, easily pushing the older woman down onto her bed. "I can take it myself."

As enticing as the challenge is, as tantalizing as the image might be, there's no way the Widow can allow that. No way she's okay with sitting back and letting the witch have her way with her.

No, this is about control. About them letting go and giving their feelings the opportunity to overwhelm them.

And right, her feelings are saying she needs to show Wanda how much she adores her. How badly she wants to show her just how good she can make her feel.

There'll be time for everything else later. For them to experiment with fantasies and changing dynamics. To explore the almost subconcious call of their respective dominant and submissive sides. But right now wasn't about that.

Right now, she wanted to be gentle. To coax pleasure out of the younger woman until she couldn't think about anything else. 

And she'd be dammed if Wanda beat her to it.

“Cute," Natasha responds, her hands reaching out for Wanda's. "But that's not how things work here."

In a flash, she drags the witch down on top of her, barely giving her a moment to gather her bearings before flipping them over. Her lips curve into a smile as she settles on top of the younger woman, her hips nestled between her spread legs.

“This is unfair," Wanda says, but her words lack any real sign of discontent. She's simply bratting out for the sake of it. For the fun that comes from pushing the Widow.

Natasha tilts her head to the side, doing her best to replicate the witch's signature move. "Is it? Isn't this what you wanted?"

The only response she gets is a huff before impatient hands sneak underneath her shirt. "I want to touch you."

“You'll get your turn, princess, I promise." The Widow leans down, her lips finding the other woman's jaw. "Let me make you feel good first."

There's no way she can argue against that.Even though Wanda doesn't verbalize her surrender, the way she tilts her head back is more than enough of a response. Mainly because it gives Natasha more than enough room to explore. To find the places that make the younger woman gasp and tremble under her. 

Her lips make their way down her jaw and to her neck, softly biting down on the sensitive skin. Wanda doesn't even try to hide how affected she is, how desperate she is to feel the older woman against every inch of her skin.

"Fuck," she breathes out, voice rough with the edges of her accent.

Natasha takes that as her cue to allow her hands to join in. They sneak onto the hem of the witch's tanktop, playing with the fabric as she lets the tension rise.

"Can I...?" She asks, finally pulling away to stare down at the other woman.

A moment goes by where they simply stare at each other, allowing the words to sink in. They both know what the answer is, but there's something significant in the pause. 

A reminder that they can back out at any moment.

But for the first time in her life, Wanda doesn't want to stop. She doesn't feel wrong or dirty for what she's doing. There's no underlying sense of guilt, no worry that she's making a mistake.

There's nothing except the warmth of Natasha's gaze and the softness of her grip.

“Please."

The Widow doesn't waste any time. She slowly helps the younger woman undress, her eyes drinking in every inch of skin that's revealed to her. "You're beautiful."

Wanda almost wants to shrink away from that worshipful gaze. She's not used to being seen like this. To being cared for so genuinely.

So, she hides her nervousness behind eager movements, hoping to distract the older woman.

“I want to see you too, you know?" She huffs, fingers curling into the hem of her loose shirt.

Natasha nods. "I know."

With that, she reaches down to take her own shirt off, discarding it and letting it join the pile of clothes next to the bed. Seemingly in the blink of an eye, they're both topless, laid bare before each other, their breaths coming out as soft pants with equal measures of desperation.

For all her training and patience, the Widow finally crumbles.

She shifts down Wanda's body, her lips trailing down her chest until she meets her breasts. She lavishes attention between both of the peaks, her ears filling with the sounds of the younger woman's sighs, her back arching almost as if she's presenting herself.

Natasha's lips wrap around one of Wanda's perky nipples, relishing the gasp she receives in response. The witch's hand tangles in the Widow's red hair, pulling her closer as her hips rock forward.

The action would be adorable if it weren't so needy. Tinged with tones of arousal neither of them can pretend isn't there.

As badly as Natasha wants to tease, she forces herself to focus. Her lips move back and forth between Wanda's breasts as her hands hurry to the waistband of her pants. 

“Someone's eager," she teases as the witch shifts under her to help her slide the garments off her needy body.

“As if you're any better," Wanda huffs.

There's no way the Widow can argue with that so she doesn't even try. Instead, she focuses on the task at hand until the witch's pants and underwear join the pile on the floor.

Her lips quickly find a path down the middle of Wanda's chest, trailing down to her stomach, drawing out the sweetest sounds as she teasingly drags her teeth across the skin. The younger woman's hands grip the sheets below her as she forces herself to star down at Natasha, pupils blown wide with barely supressed need.

“Stop teasing," she whines, allowing her facade to crack.

Her words are met with a flurry of kisses and a pair of hands that wrap around her thighs and easily spread her open. "I'm not teasing. I'm taking my time."

“Well, it feels like you're teasing."

"That's not my problem." Natasha sends a poised smirk her way before her lips trail further down.

She can feel the desperation rolling off in waves from the woman underneath her but she's still in no rush. On the contrary, she takes a moment to admire the mess between Wanda's legs, the way her clit already twitches and her wetness makes her pussy glimmer with arousal.

One of her hands moves from her thigh to her cunt, swiping her fingers through her folds and watching the way her hips buck in response. "Look at you, so responsive. Such a good girl for me."

“'Tasha-" This time, there's no denying the way Wanda whines. "Please. Need you."

“I know, princess. Need me so bad it hurts, huh?"

The witch nods, the faintest layer of frustrated tears making her big, green eyes shine. Natasha's sure she's never seen a more gorgeous sight.

The widow's head ducks down, soft, reassuring, kisses placed to Wanda's inner thighs before she settles on her target. Her tongue flicks out to taste the younger woman's wetness, sliding through her folds and barely flicking her swollen clit.

Wanda's response is instant. Her whole body responds to the stimulation, lips parting as she allows her sounds of pleasure to slip out without restraint.

That lack of restraint is met with the fire of Natasha's desire. She explores the witch's cunt eagerly, holding her down with her free hand and experimenting between sucking and licking.

Her pace is steady despite how easily she loses herself in the taste of the other woman. "You're incredible," she whispers the praise against her cunt, her fingers teasing her entrance as her tongue finds her clit again.

“Fuck, please." Those two words are the only things she's able to form as she rocks her hips forward, practically chasing after the Widow's fingers.

Natasha gets the message and she eases two fingers into Wanda's drenched cunt. She watches the younger woman with bated breath, drinking in the way her eyes flutter shut and her head falls back.

Every moan, every gasp, is the reassurance she needs to keep going. To work her fingers in and out of her until she's greedily clenching around them.

“Taking me so good, you're doing so good, Wands," she says, her voice soft and breathless. "You gonna cum for me?”

"Yes! Don't stop-"

Natasha wouldn't dream of it.

She increases the pace of her fingers while her lips wrap themselves around Wanda's swollen clit. The witch loses herself in the feeling, bucking her hips every which way as the pleasure slowly consumes her, setting every nerve ending on fire until all she can do is pant out the older woman's name.

And still, Natasha doesn't stop, her mind set on her goal.

She sucks on Wanda's clit, her tongue drawing sharp circles against it as she fucks her with her fingers. Her movements are equal parts controlled and unrestrained. Careful and reckless.

She balances on that knive's edge like an expert, giving the witch everything she can while being careful not to hurt her.

Her efforts are rewarded by a particularly high-pitched gasp, Wanda's body tensing up beneath her. "Shit, shit, just like that, Nat-"

Her jumbled words turn into a long moan as she tumbles over the edge, succumbing to the overwhelming pleasure.

Natasha eagerly laps up her release, her fingers slowling down as her tongue moves up and down her cunt. It's dirty and messy and so incredible she almost forgets how to breathe.

Everything around her feels like Wanda. Like everything else has stopped and all that exists is them locked in this intimate moment together.

She works the witch through her orgasm, not withdrawing her fingers until the tension in her body releases. Unable to help herself, she kisses her way up her body, this time stopping to admire the hickeys she left on her skin.

Once she reaches her face again, Wanda's giggling. A soft, dreamy sound that makes her feel like she's floating.

“You okay, sweetheart?" She asks, ducking down to pepper kisses across her jawline.

Her reply is nothing short of a breathless admission. "Yeah. That was...perfect."

“You're so corny," Natasha teases.

The witch opens her mouth to reply but before she can complain about how mean the older woman is, her words are replaced by a hum as their lips meet once more. Her hands move to grip the Widow’s waist, pulling her in closer.

“Who’s the cheater now?” She mumbles when they pull away, unable to control the smirk that breaks out across her face.

“Oh, shut up.”

This time, Wanda doesn’t back down so easily. “Make me.”

Natasha stares down at her for a few seconds, her brain struggling to catch up to the change in atmosphere.

But then, her hands are moving to the waistband of her own pants, the throbbing between her legs reminding her how desperate she is.

“Gladly.”

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