#it's not like anyone was going to be willing to come out close to near years

[magiclwritings]

For a moment Colter had begun to think he'd messed up. Because in all honesty, he hadn't any intention of telling Everett where they were going. This whole ordeal was truly just flying by the seat of his pants. But it was going to work. It has to. But for the time being, the excitement of leaving the grounds was enough to buy him some time. Colter quickly cleaned himself up from the water and suds of the bath. He'd checked his own reflection in the looking glass before he'd come out to join Everett in the main rooms.

The prince wasn't quite ready to storm out and so he found himself moving to nibble on the plates Everett had brought up initially. A soft smile touched his lips seeing all the little bits and what nots he'd selected for the two of them. Mostly Colter's favorites. It was hard to be mad at a man that paid that close of attention to him. But, as he'd witnessed for himself earlier, there were always more sides to a person than perhaps they were willing to let show to anyone else. Even themselves. "I thoughts maybe we'd find a little tavern and see what happens from there." His plan as of that moment was just ply this one with enough alcohol and fun to make him willing to leave and go wherever the prince wanted. And while he would have done so if Colter just requested it, there was something he needed out of this. Plausible deniability. If he were a pawn then Everett could be too. They could use one another. Which seemed to be their game as of that moment.

Colter finished chewing his last bite of fresh fruit and moved to take a sip of wine from one of the goblets. It was only a moment and he was moving around to feel out Everett's outfit of choice. How he felt about this one wearing his clothing was still out for debate but he didn't hate it. Though the scent of Everett, just him was better than anything else. And the two of them together? Knowing he purposefully smelled like him? Well, it did things to him. And it was then that he remembered the other man that always smelled like him too. Colter scolded himself and bent in to kiss that man's lips so softly.

"There's a tavern that's a bit out of the way just west of the shire. It's always been a favorite of mine." He beamed at Everett, drawing his hand down between the other's legs and he gave a light squeeze to his package. A seal of his approval of the way he looked. "My staff won't be back until near supper and that includes the stable hands. If we hurry we can snag our own horses and head off." The prince slid his finger tips over the bulge and motioned for Everett to follow him out of his quarters.

"Tell me about your instructor." He spoke over his shoulder, motioning for Everett to hurry on up and join him. "I don't think I've gotten to work with him. Yet." He knew they had to seem as if they were acting totally natural until they got clear of the royal quarters. Colter wasn't truly worried though, August was looking out for him. Just like he always had.

Everett pouted at Colter’s suggestion. He could think of other ways for the prince to take care of him but that would require him joining his bath. With a soft kiss, Everett relented and sat in the tub, leaning his back against the side and tilting his head back against Colter’s chest. 

“You don’t need to apologize,” Everett said, closing his eyes as Colter worked over his body with the cloth. It was touching to be taken care of in such a way. It was intimate and soft. Something Everett wasn’t used to but could get used to as long as it was the prince. “It’s just hard for me to sit there and not be able to touch you.” He tilted his head up, looking at the prince. “Even when you sit beside me, I miss you; I long for you. You know I’m not good at being patient. Not when it comes to you.” He grinned sheepishly. “I’m not ashamed to admit I’m selfish when it comes to you. I want you all of the time, for as long as I can. As long as you want me.” He nuzzled his face against Colter’s body, kissing his chest lightly.  

His eyes drifted closed as Colter’s hands continued working over his body. The prince was meticulous in his cleaning, touching every inch of Everett he could reach. It did not go unnoticed that Colter focused heavily on his groin area. His hips shifted up as he worked over his cock, the man moaning softly. He would have been disappointed in the lack of attention to that area if Colter’s words hadn’t distracted him completely.

Everett’s eyes beamed at Colter’s suggestion. He turned around, moving onto his knees, and wrapped his arms around the prince’s neck. “Really?” He asked excitedly. There was never a time when Everett didn’t want to leave the castle and sneak out with Colter. It was something he wouldn’t refuse. “Right now?” He didn’t wait for Colter to answer. Instead, he ducked back into the water, rinsing off his body before hopping out of the tub and grabbing a towel for himself. He rubbed the cloth against his body as quickly as possible. “Let me get dressed, and we can go.” Everett was already on his way to the prince’s wardrobe, throwing the doors open and shifting through his clothes. “Where are we going?” He asked, tugging on a pair of Colter’s undergarments and then a pair of pants just as quickly. The fact that the prince was asking him to go into town was out of character, and Everett didn’t want to waste time in case he changed his mind. He then shifted through Colter’s shirts before finding a deep emerald tunic. He hadn’t seen the prince wear it. With a slight frown, he realized who the shirt belonged to. 

He tossed the shirt back in the wardrobe, pulled out a cream-colored one, and tugged it over his head. He wouldn’t let August spoil his mood. Everett was here with Colter; he wasn’t. But sometimes, he couldn’t help but feel August’s presence fucking everywhere around this castle. “Anyways,” He said flippantly, “I’m ready for a night out. Let’s go.”

[madegeeky]

Let me preface this by saying, no one got hurt and nothing else caught fire which is alarming to hear, I know, but less alarming than me just blurting out:

So our dishwasher caught fire last week. >.<

We were running it early. I was in the living room (which is right next to the kitchen) and Mr. Geeky was in the kitchen. We had turned the dishwasher on earlier than normal because it kept getting stuck at specific part in the cycle and we wanted to see it happen.

So, suddenly from the living room, I hear a pop/crack noise and a "oh shit" and a cabinet being slammed open and an absolutely horrific smell of burning plastic and Mr. Geeky comes out of the kitchen and goes "The dishwasher caught fire." And I was just like O.o

And he's not being dramatic, he was far enough away he could see a little under the dishwasher and there were literal flames. Luckily, the dishwasher has a kill switch so he turned it off immediately (its in the cabinet under the sink which is why there was the sound of the cabinet being slammed open).

It smelled awful, y'all. Fortunately, we were leaving for my Mom's the next day so we popped a window open, stuck a fan in it pointing outward, and put some mats and towels around it so any rain/snow wouldn't end up on the wood and left.

We got back yesterday and, good news, we no longer want to die going into the kitchen. Bad news, there is still definitely a smell despite it being a week. We've removed any melted/burnt parts we've can and have tried scrubbing the parts we can't removed to try to get off any extra burnt bits we can.

I am hopeful that the smell is coming from the dishwasher so once that is removed (later this week) the smell will be gone entirely. My fear is the smell has gotten into the walls or the floor in a place that will be impossible to get to once the new dishwasher is installed. And they are removing the old and installing the new one at the same time (which makes sense).

So later today I'm going to go sniffing around and see if I can smell it particularly strongly on the wall or something. Since the smell is coming from the bottom of the dishwasher there's not much point to trying to smell the floor but I'll probably still try anyway.

Y'all, it seems weird to say this, but we were so lucky. We normally turn the dishwasher on right before we go to bed (so it runs while we sleep) and we usually turn on the dishwasher right before leave to my Mom's (so it runs with our last minute dishes after we leave). We only had it on cause it was acting just a little wonky and we wanted to be there to see what was happening.

Mr. Geeky says that it wouldn't have caused a huge fire or anything but holy shit, y'all, can you imagine waking up or coming home to whatever the fuck it would have been like if Mr. Geeky hadn't been there to put it out within seconds of it happening?

So I guess salute to the universe for being cool enough that if this was going to happen, making sure it happened while we were here and awake.

And huge fucking salute to Mr. Geeky for having the fucking reflexes of a ninja cause I don't think it took even 10 seconds for him to see the fire and then turning off the dishwasher.

Anyway, cross your fingers that the smell is only in the dishwasher and leaves when it's removed.

[rae-writes]

if you could do r trying on a new pheromone perfume and the brothers (separately) are js like 👁️👁️ and suddenly pounces on them and readers js so confused you’d literally be godsent😫

(my inspiration was that one Rafayel scene from lds-)

suggestive || bonus characters bc harem || whether or not Mc knew it was pheromone perfume is up for debate || 1.k wc

Lucifer pauses for a brief second while not faltering in what he was doing, subtly trying to detect the cause of the scent invading every sense of his. He's one of the quickest to figure it out, eyes darkening as he empties his hands before gripping your waist and pulling you as close as physically possible; his face is in your neck before you can even blink and you both stay like that for a moment before he's silently tugging you to wherever he can sit down with you on top of him

Mammon's head snaps up so fast it almost hurts, eyes zeroing in on you. He knows where the scent is coming from, but he just doesn't understand why you suddenly smell even better than usual...he ain't shy as he slides his fingers over your wrist, up your forearm, going until he's caressing the slope of your neck. His breathing is shaky and his voice cracks a little when he whispers how intoxicated you're making him feel. He's got you laid down against the closest flat surface so he can run his hands over you, nose buried against the underside of your jaw as he breathes you in until he's damn near drunk off it

Levi's tail acts faster than he does, curling around your thighs and yanking you closer before he catches up with the action. His embarrassment is cut off when he finally registers the smell, too, and suddenly his face is red for a different reason. He'll fire off a million questions, adding his own jumbled thoughts in between, subconsciously latching every possible limb around you; his face is buried against your chest, fangs accidentally brushing the skin as he stutters out apologies, but doesn't stop

Satan perks up much like a cat, intense blue-green hues staring you down like he's ready to actually pounce. He approaches slowly, trying to figure out the source of your new scent on the way over, but ultimately decides to bury himself against you— your neck, chest, shoulder, nape— breathily asking what you were doing to him. He feels like he's been drugged, almost like a feline with catnip, but it's so dizzily good that he can't complain. Drags you off to where no one will be able to find you, so that your scent won't find anyone but him

Asmo is giddy the second he catches a wiff, easily pinpointing the reason for your scent change, and the exact listing of the brand you used. He's shameless as he requests a thorough product review, rubbing his frame up against yours as he holds you from behind, eyes peering over your shoulder with a bright pink hue. Cheekily insists that you’re better off without so many clothes on, wanting your scent to rub off on him so you can match (and so he can smell it for the rest of the day).

Beel is confused when the food in his mouth isn’t tasting as good as it should. The scent invades his nose, making his eyes search for what has to be a delicious source, only to find you instead of something edible. He’s all over you, mumbling out apologies and that he doesn’t know what’s gotten into him, asking won’t you please let him just…be near you? He trails after you like a puppy, not really sure why you’re captivating his entire being with just your smell. His mouth eventually finds your neck, nibbling and sucking as he tries to get a ‘taste’ of that scent.

Belphie, while unwilling to get up out of his spot, is instantly at attention with eyes following you around the room. He’ll whine and complain until he’s got you at his side, trapping you in his arms and against his lounging form. He’s almost tense, as he inhales that new scent, like a ram waiting to charge. His tone is lazy and drawn out, but tinged with a need that he’s confused about, yet so willing to dive into. He’s surrounded by you, literally and figuratively, as he keeps you tight in his arms, not above begging to get his way.

Diavolo is so fucking clueless, wide eyes blinking up at you almost innocently as he asks if you were wearing a new perfume. He finds himself inching closer to you, gaze never leaving your figure for long— a gaze that get darker and more lidded as time passes. He’s still clueless as ever, yet doesn’t mind the mystery since he’s always willing for an excuse to be with you. His cheeks are flushed and his touch a tad hesitant, but it all flies out the window when you allow him to bury his face against your abdomen, kneeling on the floor, letting his mind swim.

Barbatos takes one glance at you after catching on to the scent and knows, but unlike the pudding incident when he fled the scene, he’s coiling you up with his tail and keeping you impossibly close, unwilling to let anyone have you this time. Unabashedly, his nose is trailing along the slope of your neck, lips brushing the skin as he places slow kisses over all the right spots. Whether or not he does or doesn’t have time to spare, he’s whisking you away and trapping you against his frame, almost begging you to let him be selfish and improper as he inhales your scent with an abandon that would usually make him pause; he can forgive himself, if it’s because of you, unwilling to let go of this opportunity at your eager answer of ‘yes’.

Mephisto almost trips as he passes you by in the hallways of RAD, whirling around to gape at you rather dumbly. Stubbornly fights the urge to follow you for all of thirty seconds before he’s trailing after you with urgency. Manages to simply walk alongside you and keep polite small talk just until you’re both out of eyesight, because then he’s pulling you towards him and groaning, asking what the hell you thought you were doing walking around other demons while smelling so good. It’s a struggle to keep a dignified facade when he’s rushing you down the corridor— but once he gets you in a room, it’s all crumbling as he latches his lips to your neck’s pulse point. The Newspaper Club’s office is closed until further notice.

Solomon doesn’t really register the smell at first, both because it’s more subtle for humans, and because he was playing around with various potions— but once he did catch the smell after you’d gotten closer, he’s swiping everything to the side and placing you on the table instead. He is allll over you, not even hiding the flush on his cheeks as he inhales your scent; practically panting in the crook of your neck. Apologizes if you had something planned later, because he’s keeping you for the rest of the day, wanting to experiment with your new perfume. He knows he’s being overly touchy and a…bit desperate, but just indulge in his whims, yeah?

Simeon’s pretty sure that his heart was going to beat straight out of his chest. He couldn’t understand why he felt so warm and fuzzy all the sudden, but had a feeling it was probably because of you (because only you could make him feel this way). Shyly asks if he could sit closer to you, pleasantly surprised when you tug his head to rest in your lap. His fingers lift your shirt up just enough for him to press his nose against a sliver of skin, face buried against your stomach as his hands grip and massage your thighs. Genuinely content to just lay there and let your scent consume him, though he won’t argue if you ask to help him out.

Raphael…thinks he’s sick. Which is odd, because he hasn’t been sick in a few centuries, but then again..you make him feel…odd. Which is why he walked straight up to you and flat out asked if you were doing it on purpose— why did you smell so good? Why was it making him like this?? He’ll have to be guided, your hand leading both of his to your hips, his head tucking into your neck. He’s still confused, but more than willing to investigate. You’re so..enchanting…he can make idle complaints all day long, but he refuses to let go of you now. He likes how it feels. And he likes the way you react to him.

[thoughtsandmusingsandideas]

Dehya + Arlecchino Forgotten!Creator AU

A proper response to @ninjacomix sorry for the wait!

Dehya

You woke up in the deserts of Sumeru when you first arrived in Teyvat, so it’s no surprise that the first people you met were Eremites 

Unlike the Traveler, you are not immediately attacked- half because of your divinity subtly making them more docile, and half because you’re covered in sand and dressed in foreign clothes and practically melting under the sun- and yeah, you look too pathetic to rob

They end up taking you back to Aaru Village, and that’s where you end up meeting Dehya.

Well, technically you meet Dehya the day after you arrive, when you rush outside during a sandstorm and spot her fighting monsters

It’s a bit surreal, watching an actual fight like this, and you’re frozen in awe

At least until you notice the Rifthound sneaking up on her

You’re panicking as you lunge forward, feeling something begin to expand inside you, and-

Everything is still

Both the storm and the Rifthounds are frozen in place, and Dehya is looking at you, extremely confused

“What is this?!?” “HOW SHOULD I KNOW?!?!” “YOU’RE THE ONE DOING IT!!!!”

Dehya dispatches the Rifthounds quickly, and the sandstorm resumes

And the next day, the both of you set out towards the Akademiya, wanting to figure out what your deal is

(You don’t realize that now the gods are remembering the creator, the Akademiya is Scrambling to find any and all information on you and why they forgot you)

During the journey the both of you grow close, and a few weeks in, the both of you wrapped in a blanket to protect from the chill of a desert night, you turn to her.

“Hey, let’s get married.”

And after choking on her water, she agrees to it

Congratulations! You have a wife!

The Creator, showing up hand in hand with an Eremite is not what an Akademiya scholar expected to see at four in the morning on a random day, but that is what he saw- and he thinks the subsequent panic is very understandable

Before you know it, you and your new wife are sitting in the acting grand sages office as Nahida uses some kind of Archon communication to page the other Archons

It takes about an hour for them to burst through the door

(In that time you’ve taught Alhaitham and Dehya how to play Rock Paper Scissors, Go Fish, Uno, and you’re in the middle of teaching them slapjack. Alhaithams hands are suspiciously red and Dehya is smirking)

They’re instantly fretting over you, apologizing for forgetting you and generally praising you, completely overwhelming until Dehya pulls you away

“Hey! Who are you supposed to be!” It’s Venti, disappointed that his god has been taken from him

“That’s my wife!” You state proudly.

And then everything clicks

“Wait, I’m a god?” 

The room explodes in noise, but Dehya’s hand never leaves yours

Arlecchino

When it comes to Arlecchino, instead of taking you to Aaru Village, you ask them to take you to the border of Fontaine

You’ve only made it to the end of Sumeru in the Archon Quests- maybe if you head to Fontaine now, you’ll get to see the Archon Quest in person!

It’s only once you’ve taken the Aquabus to the Court of Fontaine that you realize you do not have a single mora on your person. 

It’s after a day of exploring that you end up near the sea, and after being startled by a giant crab appearing from nowhere (It was Very Scary I promise) you end up tumbling into the water, you’re trapped under, and-

Wait… you can still breathe!

You light up with excitement, diving deeper, and that begins your life as a diver.

You end up becoming a collector, selling cool shells and oddities to anyone in the Court who’s willing to buy them (You’ve built up a pretty good rapport with the supply manager of Chiori’s Boutique)

It’s also underwater that you discover you’re the creator- finding an old abandoned temple with murals of a god that look just like you, helping you make sense of the power beneath your skin

But hey, if no one else was gonna bring it up, you wouldn’t either

And it’s underwater that you end up meeting your first Fatui member: Freminet

He was surprised when he first saw you swimming around- but now he’s grown pretty accustomed to you, and sometimes you guys even interact

Admittedly, sound doesn’t travel well underwater, so most of your communication is via charades, but the two of you end up growing close

Freminet shows you cool diving spots, you collect valuables from the ocean floor together, swim together in blissful silence, and play with all the friendly ocean animals you seem to attract

It only takes about a month for Freminet to begin mentally referring to you as mother (This boy is starved of a parental figure)

And after that it only takes a week before he slips up

He’s waiting in Father’s office, looking around as he waits for him to arrive

It’s pretty sparsely decorated- but there are a few ornaments still left around.

“Mother would like this…” Freminet muses, looking at a small model boat, delicate and intricately carved.

A flash of heat at his back. “… What did you just say?”

After a very long and frantic explanation, and a slightly shorter lecture on stranger danger, Arlecchino demands to meet you.

You first meet the harbinger after a day diving with Freminet, and he shoots you an apologetic look as you both surface to find a harbinger on the shore

And then you make eye contact

Your thoughts: That is a harbinger. From the Fatui. Huh. I’m going to pretend not to know that.

Arlecchino’s thoughts: That is the Creator that The Tsaritsa told me to look out for. They have the exact same appearance. I will pretend not to know that.

Arlecchino asks you to tea to get to know you better, and it devolves from there.

At your tea party, she introduces herself as a completely normal orphanage matron, and you’re polite enough to not point out that her brooch is a tiny Fatui emblem

You introduce yourself as a normal diver and she ignores the fact that your spoon has been stirring sugar into your tea without you even touching it

Your relationship continues in a similar fashion, with the both of you pretending to be a completely normal couple

After a few months, when both of you are getting married, you both ignore the oddities of your guests

“Ah, darling, the Fatui are here.” “Oh yes, they sponsor my orphanage, how polite of them to come.”

“Angel, Morax is here.” “Huh. Isn’t he supposed to be dead?” “Yes.” “Well, I’m glad he could make it.” 

The both of you continue with intense purposeful ignorance

Venti: Your grace, do you really want to marry the harbinger? Is she threatening you?

You: What harbinger? I’m marrying a completely normal and totally average orphanage owner. So kind and generous she is.

Arlecchino, in the background, kicking Childe for trying to start a fight at her wedding, pausing to turn and wave: Hello.

Also Freminet is the flower girl

[wordsinhaled]

People call Charles Edwin’s guard dog and Edwin thinks it’s going to offend him, getting more up in arms about it than Charles ever does. But it doesn’t seem to bother Charles at all. And Edwin doesn’t understand, not at first, not until Charles tells him, “So what if they think I’ll bite if they lay a finger on you? Not exactly wrong, are they?”

Suddenly, it makes sense. Why Charles takes the comments in stride. Why he seems to take pride in the suggestion.

Charles feels like Edwin should have someone who is willing to do all that for him, go that far for him—and of course that someone’ll be Charles himself. Edwin reflects that he’d never had that sort of fervent devotion from anyone, certainly not when he was alive, and no one has come close since but Charles. He reflects on how good it feels to be fundamentally seen, valued in such a way.

Still, Edwin worries—does Charles know that Edwin is just as dedicated to keeping him safe, his heart and his spectral body and his soul? That Charles is the most precious gift Edwin never dreamt to be given, and—

Does Charles know that, every day? That he’s more than his teeth? That he’s more than everything Edwin could want? That he’s sweetness and light?

It’s Charles’ loving touch that Edwin yearns for and craves, when he’s laughing harder than he ever has, in the middle of the night when the rest of the world is asleep and it’s just him and Charles in the warmly-lit office, tipping against each other on the tiny sofa that never feels cramped when it’s keeping the two of them near. The actual joke goes forgotten in the self-replenishing haze of their giggles, their shoulders knocking together, Charles’ ankle hooked around Edwin’s.

Edwin’s hand lands on Charles’ jaw, barely-there fingertips turning Charles’ head, easy, so easy, to look at him. To catch Charles’ gaze, deep and shining and—they’re so close to each other, a bit heady with leftover mirth, and Edwin will never forget that it’s Charles who moves first to press his smiling lips to Edwin’s, simple as ever, like it’s the next line in their conversation.

It knocks the breath straight out of Edwin: the breath he hasn’t needed in three-odd decades. But it’s all right because Charles’ mouth is opening against his, so right and inviting, and Charles is gasping too like he’s in the same dizzy predicament, and Edwin never wants it to end.

“Charles,” he says, “Charles, my darling, are you…?”

Charles’ eyes are dark as ink when he pulls back, only far enough to nudge his nose against Edwin’s cheek.

“Yeah,” he says, smile flashing bright like a slice of the moon. He closes his eyes, a flutter of lashes Edwin can feel against his own cheekbone, followed by the soft drag of a kiss. Then another. “Should’ve seen it, really,” Charles goes on, in between still more kisses, words said into Edwin’s skin. “‘Cause you’re it for me, Edwin, aren’t you, love? I just didn’t see. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you when you first—”

“Never mind,” Edwin says, “tell me now,” and then they’re kissing once more. The testing scrape of Charles’ teeth over Edwin’s lower lip, the nibble on his upper, is tentative, too tentative, and Edwin ought to have known, he ought to have suspected… but still he doesn’t, doesn’t expect the keening, tremulous moan that tumbles out of him at the promise of it all.

Charles chuckles, the sound settling in Edwin’s belly, making a home in his chest. “You like that?” he asks. Awed. Still hesitant. The laughter from earlier still layered in Charles’ voice, along with a new sort of hoarseness, a new sort of rasp Edwin could listen to forever. “Don’t wanna put you off, do I, love…”

“I will hardly be put off, Charles. In fact, I—” Edwin swallows, convulsive and wanting, sees Charles’ focus drop to his throat, find the soft underside of his jaw as he tips his chin up. “I would not have you hold back with me. Set your hands where you wish. Your mouth—where you wish. Your…” It is his turn to close his eyes.

“My teeth,” Charles finishes for him softly. “Wherever I…?”

“Yes,” Edwin says. “Yes.”

[monstersholygrail]

What happens if someone is in a relationship/marriage whilst in Free Use City? How would that work?

As another day winds down in Free Use City, you and your Monster Husband move around your shared room with ease. Working as though you are two cogs working in a perfect machine. The deep familiarity between you both is evident as your husband slides your lotion to the edge of the sink right before you walk in and grab it.

You lean into his side and his arm naturally winds around your waist as he brushes his teeth. The height difference between you both is comical yet the way you two fit together is utter perfection. Uncapping your lotion you barely even think as the words slip out of your mouth.

“Some Tentacle Monster fucked me in the bathroom today at work. Was pleasantly surprised by the tentacle dick.”

Your husband snorts in amusement, quickly closing his mouth to stop the toothpaste from flying. Your mouth quirks up as you dot some lotion on your arms.

Living in the city, when proposing to fuck someone, the act is always shared and discussed between you two beforehand. Whether it’s a group activity or solo. But if someone comes up to you to fuck, well, that’s more than fair game.

“Really?” He asks once his mouth is rinsed. You hum in agreement, leaning down to rub lotion up and down your plush legs. An act your husband can’t help but watch with rapt attention. “A Tentacle Monster actually fucked me too, today. At my desk!”

You whip back up, looking at your husband with wide eyes and a smile.

“No way! Think it was the same one?”

“That would be hot.”

You hum in agreement once again, nodding along as you imagine a Tentacle Monster purposefully going out of their way to find you and your husband just to know they got to fuck you both. A shiver runs down your spine and you meet your husband’s eye in the mirror. His gaze reflects your own, a burning heat of lust as similar thoughts race through your mind.

In a flash you two are jumping each other, mouth classing in a heated kiss. Your limbs tangling as you practically climb him like a fucking tree. Your husband lifts your plush body up with ease, settling you on the sink and standing between your thick thighs. He growls into the kiss, his tongue diving deep in your mouth.

His hands feel like a blur on your skin as he rips away the clothes standing in the way of him finally having you again. He doesn’t break away from your lips, uncaring that you’re running out of air. He needs you like you’re his air and isn’t that more important?

He finally breaks away from the kiss as he sinks into your slick heat to throw his head back. A long groan leaving his lips now. Your moans mingle with his like a perfect melody as his fat cock stretches your walls beyond possible. Your sopping hole welcoming your husband’s cock back inside you with relief.

Your body tingles as his claws sink into your flesh, keeping you steady as he starts pounding away into your pussy as if he’s been waiting for this all day. By the way your core sucks him back in with every thrust it’s clear it’s hurt you to wait just as much. Neither of you can get enough of each other, your hands scouring the other, clinging to the person you crave more than anyone.

“F-fuck, baby. Nothing feels better than this. Sweet pussy was fucking made for me, wasn’t it?” Your husband growls, his hips snapping harder and faster. Finding the act of not being inside you near unbearable.

You cry out, nails clawing at his back. Desperate to get him as deep inside you as possibly. No one wills you the way he does, no one knows your body and how to so perfectly make you feel good like he does. His words send tingles down your spine. A familiar relief sparking through you as you know nothing a doubt your husband would chose you over anyone.

“Yes! Fuck! This pussy was made for your cock. Fits so perfect. So, hnghhh, good…”

Monster Husband roars, more than pleased by your words. He gets impossibly bigger within you and you scream, your hips pushing back to meet his every thrust. He rolls his hips into you at an inhuman speed, hitting every spot along your walls that has you seeing stars.

“That’s it— aughh— dammit, cum for me. Need to feel you baby, please,” your husband begs, his thrusts quickly growing sloppy as he chases release for you both.

His words weave into your ear and shoot straight down to your core. Your body jolts and seizes in his embrace and a second later you’re violently thrown into an earth shattering orgasm. Your screams rival a banshees as a deep pressure snaps and gushes out of you. Your pussy milking your husband’s cock for all it’s worth. Your slutty cunt sucks him back in as he tries to grind his length inside you and it has him following you into climax. Shooting thick ropes of cum as far inside you as he can possibly reach.

You two sag against each other. Holding onto one another with everything you have. Comforted by your mere presences and the knowledge that no matter who chooses to fuck you, you’ll always choose each other first.

[delusionsofgrandeur13]

girl, i wanna see you undo it

i wanna see you but you’re not mine.

how the other batboys react to a breakup

18+, mdni !!!!!!

readers can expect: a fem reader, lotttta angst, cursing, mentions of violence, sexually explicit scenes including mentions of penetration, oral, and masturbation. also tim drake being a creep via e-stalking but reader is aware of it and more or less okay with it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

your ex boyfriend, bruce wayne, was avoiding alfred.

his butler was insisting on signing him up for therapy, and bruce was dodging him, hard. he didn’t have it in him. he wouldn’t go pay a professional to hear how pathetic he was over the lack of you in his life. couldn’t. he’s found a much more effective way to get out his emotions.

one that involves his fists and a goon’s face.

it was probably cruel, these poor goons were just trying to feed their families, or something, but batman was indifferent.

he was now always nearing dangerously close to breaking his no-kill rule. almost always teetering over that edge. even with his own life. he’d head out in the batsuit, prowling the seediest streets of gotham, hoping, practically praying, for someone to do something illegal. he would put himself in the most deadly situations just to feel alive. wasn’t the healthiest solution, but.

did he care? no.

bruce was numb, unfeeling to those around him. he couldn’t even look at himself in the mirror, not at the stupid fuck who’d lost the love of his life. he’d lagged behind in his case solving, gordon was growing increasingly more concerned. he was rude to the paparazzi asking after you, almost able to hear your voice in his ear, telling him to be nicer to them, whacking him on the bicep. he’d throw his usual charity galas, sure, but would send dick or jason in his place to showboat. he didn’t have the patience to talk to reporters. didn’t want to show face if you weren’t there on his arm. you always made the social aspect much more bearable. would always help him relieve the stress of it all after the event had ended.

but did he still care about you? yes.

just like when you were dating, bruce taking care of you was second nature.

he wouldn’t dare cancel the flower deliveries he’d set up when the two of you were together. they appeared at your apartment door every week and a half, always something different, but always in your favorite colors. you couldn’t stay mad at them either, the flowers brightened up your kitchen so nicely. when you and bruce were dating, he’d merged your calendars, just so scheduling was easier. you’d since deleted the connection, but he somehow still knows when you have appointments, as you’ll come out of your building’s lobby to a sleek black wayne enterprises car. the chauffeur opening the car door for you silently. you’d take it over the subway every time, even if it was a little awkward.

the dating app you’d downloaded after the breakup kept glitching, never letting you text any of your matches back. if you cared more, you’d contact support, but it was so odd. everything else on your phone works perfectly fine! but you had a gut feeling it had something to do with your ex boyfriend.

bruce might’ve slipped oracle a few bills for her silence over that favor.

he tried not to think about the fact you were already willing to start dating again. he couldn’t fathom being with anyone else. could not possibly wrap his head around it. why would he want anyone when he could have you? when he had already had you? everyone else seemed..lackluster.

it’s the same reason he’d been celibate since the breakup. after you, he was tainted. he didn’t think he’d ever be able to have sex again without thinking of you. especially in his own house. the two of you had fucked on every surface possible, seriously. tried every position.

it’d been difficult just sleeping in his own bed when he used to share it with you. used to make your legs shake as you gripped at the sheets. would never make you beg for anything, eating you out until you couldn’t take it anymore. that’s when bruce would press you up against him, holding you up with his huge arms as he pounded into you, his balls slapping against your clit as you whined, barely able to form words.

he’d never been with anyone the way he had with you. so obviously he wasn’t even able to finish with his own hand. it was nothing, nothing compared to the way you felt. his imagination would never have him moaning the way you could. could never make him melt the way you oh so easily were able to, with just a look.

so he was numb. and bruce just figured that’s how he’d stay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

your ex boyfriend, jason todd, throws his book across the room, flinching when it thuds against the wall opposite.

annoyed at the surprise romantic subplot, he huffs out a breath from behind his hands. he has to get over his sudden aversion to romance, but it feels impossible after losing you. he can’t watch any of his favorite movies, can only read a select few of his favorite books.

he barely even goes out anymore, mostly to avoid seeing couples on dates. the two of you loved going out together, loved going out to community events like concerts in the park, fairs in the summer. he missed accompanying you to your nephew’s t-ball games, watching you cheer and beam up at him in one of his old baseball hats.

so he barely goes out. he doesn’t have you with him!

he saw an elderly couple strolling in the park the other day. jason had promptly turned in the opposite direction, to avoid crumpling into a ball and sobbing or throwing up into the nearest trash can.

he’d gotten back onto his bike and rode home, going way over the speed limit. he didn’t care about being safe on it anymore, not when you weren’t there to ask him to or be his backpack. he missed the way you’d hold on to him, your thighs bracketing his torso as the bike roared. how at stoplights you’d rub your palms over his chest, grabbing his pecs with your gloved hands. your resulting giggle was muffled through your motorcycle helmet, but it was still the sweetest sound in the world to him.

but jason stopped bothering trying to function out in public after that, only ever really leaving his place for missions and to train at wayne manor.

and boy, had he been training. ever since the two of you had broken up, he’d been working out to the point of exhaustion.

barely peeling himself off of the floor after each workout, always heading straight to the shower to rinse the sweat off while he zoned out into the steam. after his workouts was the only time he would relieve himself. he’d hunch over with one hand propping him up opposite the tiled wall, the other fisted around his cock as he thought of your pretty smile, your gorgeous eyes, the meat of your thighs, the curve of your ass. how you’d clench around his cock with yet another orgasm, moaning his name into the mattress.

he’d finish, hard, his body shuddering, leaving him to be ashamed with himself.

he wasn’t allowed to do this, he wasn’t allowed to think of you like you were still his. all this and yet the pain in his muscles still didn’t ease the pain in his heart, the pain seeping into his bones whenever he thought about you.

jason was still hesitant to be around his siblings.

you had left your perfume in his bathroom, and while he knows it sounds crazy, he's been spraying it on his clothes. he misses the way they would smell like you after you’d borrow them. he still hadn’t touched one of his flannels, the one you loved to steal and loved to see him in. he didn’t see the point in wearing it if you weren’t there to see it.

the last time he’d seen damian, his little brother had loudly asked him why he “smelled girly.”

jason had turned bright red and mumbled something probably unintelligible before briskly walking away, bumping into the doorframe on his way out.

he’s been spraying your perfume on the pillow you’d always use too, snuggling it close to his chest like he used to with you while he fell asleep.

it’s definitely not the same, but it’s the closest jason has to the real thing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tim drake, your ex boyfriend, swiveled in his desk chair, spinning back and forth. the monitors covering the wall above his desk were alive with various video feeds and social media websites.

@user892548276 was viewing your instagram story, a gorgeous selfie of you that tim had already screenshotted. he had plans for that later. @gothamite69 was liking your latest tweet, while @ilovedoggiess couldn’t get enough of your latest tiktok.

he knew he had to switch up the users so you’d think it was bots. you’d figure it out otherwise. too bad he had a thing for smart people.

he nodded, satisfied at the cctv feed of the street your apartment building was on, before throwing a hoodie on over his bare chest. tim strolled into the kitchen, his sweats slung low on his hips. he ran a hand through his hair, using the other to grab the coffee pot to refill his mug.

“hey, tim. whatcha up to?” jason leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed.

tim jumped, turning around.

“just some surveillance, nothing much.” he replied, hoping he sounded nonchalant.

“ohh, that case for bats?”

“mmhm.” tim cracked his knuckles, something of a nervous habit he’d developed after the breakup. and his serious lack of sleep.

“well, i won’t keep you. tell y/n i said hi!”

tim flinched at the mention of you as jason left in the direction of the garage. it’s not his brother’s fault. jay had been really busy with the outlaws lately, never home long enough to realize tim hadn’t brought you over in weeks. tim scrubbed his hands over his face and through his hair. maybe it was the exhaustion muddling things, but tim can’t remember the last time he’d had a full night’s sleep. it was already difficult falling asleep. it only made it worse that every time he did fall asleep he dreamed about you.

but dick had noticed. he had slowly transitioned tim’s assignments to mainly desk work. his older brother was probably worried about him being too tired on the field and getting hurt. but he hadn’t told bruce. tim preferred it that way. he didn’t need a big fuss about if he was okay or his performance level as a hero.

tim grabbed his mug, making his way back to his bedroom. he caught a glimpse of a dark figure in the window, spooking himself. he was on edge so much worse than usual. his reflection stared back at him, his face skinny and his eyebags dark against the pale skin of his cheeks.

tim shook his head, heading into his bedroom. he swayed a little, locking the door behind him. he set his mug on his desk, sitting down in his chair just in time to see you heading down the street.

he stood up so fast his chair rocketed back, hitting the wall. you usually don’t go out on thursday nights. is everything okay??

he types frantically, finding different angles to effectively follow you down the street, physically recoiling to see you stop at a restaurant. just another date.

you stopped, looking around, waving when you spot a blond guy walking towards you. tim enhances the best he can, zooming in on this asshole who thinks he’s good enough for you. tim scoffs out loud at the wrinkled shirt your date has on, looking ridiculous in comparison to your beauty.

the sundress you’re in is one of his favorites, red and white and flowery. he gulps down a sip of coffee at his screen when you turn around, the fabric hugging your body. he blinks, snapping out of it as your date ushers you into the restaurant. tim cracks his knuckles. he reaches for his phone, pulling up your contact. he itches to call you, to pull you out of the date you’re on, to make you think about him instead of that tool you’re with.

but he can’t. he shouldn’t.

he pulls up the screenshot of your story instead, staring at the selfie of you in his favorite sundress. his cock twitches against the fabric of his sweats. he can’t even count how many times he’s had you rutting against him with that dress hiked up to your waist.

he tosses his phone onto his bed, sitting back in his desk chair as he palms his cock, his brain full of thoughts of you.

you pressed up against him in a slinky dress as you slow dance at a wayne gala. waking up in your bed how the two of you fell asleep, naked, limbs intertwined. dancing in a gotham nightclub together, your hair in your face as you throw your arms up and swivel your hips in his direction in your shortest dress. the texts and pictures you’d been sending back and forth after the breakup, unable to let each other go.

tim throws his head back as he finishes, your name on his lips. his body rigid, the warm liquid all over his hands. he cleans himself off, staring into nothing until his computer dings at the motion detected on your street. you’re strutting down the sidewalk, the street empty. before you head inside your building, you stare into the cctv camera across the street. you wave, smiling coyly. tim sits up straighter, holding his breath. you hold up your thumb, and tim groans. that guy??

but you flip your thumb down at the camera, shaking your head. bad date.

tim whoops, beaming.

he shuts down his computer before flopping onto his bed, burrowing under the covers. five minutes later, he’s fast asleep as his coffee grows cold where it sits on his desk.

[wandasaura]

LINGER LIKE A TATTOO KISS

summary — as the summer approaches, so does a shift in your relationship with wanda

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, sensory overload, anxiety, mentions of child abuse (very brief and nondescript), dom/sub dynamics, patience testing, bratty!reader, punishment, teasing, mild humiliation, orgasm denial, spanking, praise, aftercare, entrance of the mommy kink, men/minors dni

authors note — the moment we’ve all been waiting for… or at least one of them ;), we finally got some wanda action, and a couple little domestic scenes because they’re the cutest wives

you are in love universe

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

The supermarket was beyond crowded for it being a Wednesday afternoon in early May. You supposed the air conditioned aisles were being used as an escape from the scalding temperatures of approaching summer that threatened to melt the inventory of every ice cream truck in the neighborhood, but to say you were overstimulated was putting it lightly. 

You trailed after Wanda and Natasha with a frown on your face, making your disinterest known to both of the lawyers who were in desperate need of more produce and salad kits. You’d never understand why Natasha favored the plastic bags of lettuce over the perfectly green heads that Wanda grew in the back garden, but she’d thrown at least six prepackaged variations into the cart when you stopped at the stand. You were trailing down the cereal aisle now, and your attitude was getting on both of their nerves.

Wanda had been flat out ignoring your temper tantrum since the moment it started, but Natasha was not as keen to be dismissive as her wife. She’d been throwing out warnings since you’d first come through the automatic doors, but they had all fallen on deaf ears as you stayed persistent in your pout. Your arms were folded over your chest, your eyes slitted into daggers if anyone even attempted to look in your direction. You’d been near perfectly behaved for weeks, spare a few harsh comments thrown in Wanda’s direction, but they’d both been willing to overlook your harshness because aside from those, you’d been an angel. Whatever streak of good behavior you’d been running off of however, had seen its end, and both lawyers in front of you were shocked by the attitude you simmered in. 

“If I have to ask you again to pick up your feet, I’m going to make you sit in the cart like a child.” Natasha’s voice was quiet, not willing to draw attention from the other shoppers in the aisle, but there was an unignorable warning in her tone. She’d asked you three times to stop dragging your feet across the floors, and each time you promptly dragged them harder. You were absolutely certain that smudges of black looped the grocery store floors and aided as a map to your current location, but you didn’t care. You’d been so good, so painfully good and pliant and willing to bend to even the slightest gust of wind, but not today. Not now. Not when it was too hot and too cold at the same time. Not when it was too loud and too crowded and you’d asked them both if you could just stay home. They hadn’t wanted that. They wanted to go together, told you that you were going together even after you protested, and you know it’s because they’d wanted to get you some of your favorite treats for the end of the semester coming up, but how could they blame you for being cranky when you’d warned them about not wanting to come along at all. You’d been here for what felt like hours, and if your phone wasn’t being held captive in Wanda’s pocket, you’re sure the digits on your lockscreen would support your accusation. 

“Can we leave?!” You ignored Natasha’s warning, wiggled away from her when she got too close, and pressed yourself up against the shelves of cereal boxes. You wouldn’t fare well to the close contact she wanted to initiate, but she didn’t seem to get that, because the second you thought you had found peace in your little corner, she was right back in front of you with a glare only the worst criminals faced. She was not your loving and sweet dominant right now, you’d pushed her too far, and she didn’t take kindly to embarrassment. You’re pretty sure that the man three carts behind you had been gawking at your temperament since you came in, and while Wanda had sent him a glare, he still hadn’t gotten the hint that your little attitude didn’t concern him. Natasha grabbed at your wrists, pulling them away from your chest with a grip too strong to fight. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you wiggled immediately, but she wasn’t letting go. “Nat, let go.” You pleaded with her, desperately tried to get her to understand you needed space right now, but she was seething and subsequently blinded by your panic. 

“Natalia.” Wanda called out for her wife, her careful eye watching your movements despite the seeming disinterest on her lips. Your eyes flickered over to Wanda, and while to Natasha it appeared that you were a deer in headlights anticipating a scolding, the Sokovian could see the wisps of actual panic in your stare. “Let go.” 

Natasha listened, if only because a crowd had started to form toward the opposite end of the aisle and she wanted to move on before she became the cause of a traffic jam. Her hand left yours, and though it had been making your skin burn, you missed it instantly. Tears brimmed your eyes, but you refused to let her see that, and so instead of pleading that you leave only to be overlooked again, you just dropped your chin to your chest and followed along after them both with a drag in your step. 

“This is your chance to tell me what’s wrong.” You practically jumped out of your skin when Wanda’s voice appeared closer than it had been all afternoon. If you had leaned any closer into her, your arm would have brushed her chest. You shuffled away from her, beyond the point of communication. You thought you’d made it pretty clear that you wanted to leave, anytime you acted out Natasha didn’t hesitate to drag you away, but she hadn’t this time. You knew that realistically it was because she needed supplies to make dinner, but after weeks of being good, you couldn’t deny that you had missed the feeling of her heavy hands on your skin in a way that was less than kind. You could ask for what you needed, but you would rather die a slow painful death then ask for what she called a ‘maintenance spanking’. “If you’re not going to communicate, then I don’t want the attitude. You are making a scene. Drop it, pick out some snacks, and try to be nice.” 

“Don’t tell me what to do.” You huffed, making the rash decision to shove her body away from yours with both of your outstretched palms. Wanda’s lips set into a firm line, her eyebrows raised in surprise at the action. You’ve been rude, snarky even, but you’ve never raised your hands to her, even if it was only to create some space between your bodies. You shuffled on your feet, immediately regretting the decision to force space rather than ask for it. You’d been riding her last nerve for days, your sarcastic comments just the slightest bit meaner than usual, but she had been willing to overlook them because she knew you were stressed with finals and outside of those one-off comments you’d been helpful and obedient. There was no way she’d ignore this, and you wanted to cry thinking about how at the end of the night it wouldn’t be Natasha’s hands on your body that you wanted so desperately, but hers. “I– sorry.” You apologized weakly, not even sure what it was that you were apologizing for. Was it because the look in her eyes was undeniably scary, or was it because you pushed her? You knew that it was a mixture of both, but you needed that look to go away before you could even form a coherent thought. 

“In the cart.” She demanded, not leaving you any room to argue. You violently shook your head, knowing that being confined to such a small space would only make the panic in your belly worse. There were too many noises and stimulus, too many conflicting temperatures, being confined between four metal bumpers would certainly set you off and you were only just barely keeping yourself together now. “If you want to act like a child you’ll get treated like one. Natasha has asked you four times to stop dragging your feet, and frankly, I can’t trust that you’ll keep your hands to yourself anymore. You either sit in the cart, or you and I will go out to the car and you won’t be getting any of the treats you want. Which one is it going to be?” 

“I want Nat.” You pleaded with her, suddenly aware of the fact that you didn’t even know where the other redhead had wandered off to, or when she’d started moving. She had been right in front of you, but now you couldn’t spot her and the thought of losing her in the supermarket spiked worry in your chest. “Where’s Nat?” You didn’t care about how frantic you appeared, didn’t care that you were ignoring Wanda’s question and definitely making things worse for yourself. You hated getting separated, you hated breaking off into pairs even if the three of you had set a meet up location if this were to happen. 

Wanda, though annoyed with your behavior, sighed softly and dropped the threatening glare she’d been pointing at you. “Nat went to get some grapes and strawberries. You finished them this morning, remember?” You could only nod, remembering that you had in fact finished their fruit after refusing to eat the eggs that Wanda made for breakfast. It was too hot outside for anything warm to eat. They weren’t giving you a choice in tagging along, and although you couldn’t control where they dragged you, well you could if you had called your safeword and asked for space, but that wasn’t really what you wanted. You still had control over what you ate even if the supermarket was non negotiable, and you knew that the cold fruit would sit better in your stomach when it inevitably came time to leave. 

“This is the last time I’m going to ask you what’s wrong, Y/N. If you refuse to answer, I will be the one you deal with when we get home. This behavior is unacceptable.” Wanda remained firm, but there was concern in her voice that made you wonder if you would avoid punishment if you came clean. Deciding that you’d rather face humiliation than her heavy hand on your ass, you relented. 

“There’s too many people.” You whispered, shamefully dropping your eyes to the floor, counting the specs of black and gold in the tiles beneath your feet. The design was ugly when isolated, but somehow it worked for the aesthetic of the store when you focused on the full picture. “It’s too loud. And tomorrow's my last final and I’m not sure how it’s going to go, and I have to sleep at my dorm tonight and I haven’t done that since Natty was away. And I just need space right now but I don’t want to be alone.” 

The Maximoff residence had practically become your residence since the night you showed up in tears. You’d spent all of your nights in the soft guest bed, and most of your mornings in the dining room eating a homemade breakfast for the last six weeks. It was embarrassing to admit that you had gotten used to being there with them, that now that you had it, you didn’t want to trade it in for your stiff dorm room with a roommate you hadn’t spoken a word to since the first week of classes, even if it would only be for a handful of hours to sleep. You hated sleeping alone, even if you had slept alone in their house almost every night, spare the occasions Natasha fucked you into that fuzzy headspace she adores and they had let you crash in bed with them. Sleeping in your dorm was different, and lonely. And yeah, you had survived three years of dorm living prior to meeting them, but things were different now. You are different now. 

Wanda’s face melted into softness at your admission, and suddenly you felt silly for keeping it to yourself for so long, but you’d unasked for self-criticism had convinced you that you were being needy and unreasonable and they wouldn’t understand where your head was at even if you tried to articulate. After almost a year with Natasha, you should’ve known that wasn’t true, shouldn’t have even entertained that thought, but after showing both her and Wanda that you could be good for longer than just a couple hours, you’d felt like raising any problems no matter their origin would only aggravate them. You didn’t want to lose what you had, even if it meant being uncomfortable in a grocery store. 

“It is pretty overstimulating in here, isn’t it?” Wanda coos, her green eyes understanding and sympathetic. It’s a violent switch from how she’d been talking to you, but you thrive beneath her gentle validation of your feelings and find yourself nodding along. “Natty and I try our best to accommodate you, but we don’t know everything that can be overwhelming for you. We need you to tell us, so these things don’t happen. Shoving me didn’t make it any less crowded, and ignoring Nat didn’t make it any less loud. I know you were trying your best, but how could we have handled that better?” You should hate the way she’s speaking to you; like a child made of glass, but somehow it makes you feel better. She doesn’t sound mad anymore, there's no unspoken threat of consequences or stripped privileges, she’s just trying to get on the same page as you, trying to get you to understand where your mistakes had been so you can fix them in the future. You hate that you want more of this, whatever it is. 

“Telling you.” You sighed, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly, trying to take away some of the blame that was becoming heavy guilt in your belly. “I didn’t think you’d listen.” 

“Have we ever not listened to you?” Wanda quirks an eyebrow, and you feel properly schooled beneath the expression. 

“I told you I didn’t want to come.” You tried to excuse yourself, but the lawyer was having none of your avoidance. You sighed, dropping your shoulders and focusing your attention on your cuticles, picking at the skin that had only recently begun to heal. “Nobody has ever taken me seriously before. My last girlfriend used to parade me around claiming exposure would ‘fix’ me. I didn’t think it would matter to you that I’m overstimulated.” 

Wanda didn’t know much of anything about your past relationships. Whenever you talked about them, which was admittedly almost never, it was only ever Natasha who was around to witness realization crash over you like high tide. Your past romantic partners and the estranged relationship with your family had completely destroyed you, however these two successful lawyers that you found yourself entangled with were slowly putting the pieces of your broken heart back together, even if they didn’t realize just how much they were helping you. 

“Do you want to leave?” Wanda didn’t dwell on your revelation, she didn’t pick it apart and hone in on all of the ways you knew that she could. She’s a lawyer, the very best one in the world, don’t tell Natasha you thought that; there were a million little things in your brief explanation that had set off alarm bells in her head, but she didn’t pry. You don’t know why you thought she would, but having the topic dropped before it was even picked up had soothed at least a fraction of your newfound worry. 

The question startled you, having expected that to be the last thing she suggested, but it felt good to know that she was willing to order takeout for dinner if it meant getting you out of this situation. You wanted to leave, you desperately wanted to run to the exit at the first implication that you were allowed, but they needed groceries, and you wanted the chocolate ice cream sandwiches Natasha had promised. “No.” You whispered, shaking your head just in case she hadn’t heard you over the toddler screaming bloody murder in the juice aisle. “I don’t know.” 

“Do you want to sit in the cart while Nat and I finish shopping? I’ll give you back your phone and you can listen to your music until we’re done. It’s not a punishment, stop looking at me like that.” Wanda teased, and you giggled softly at her scrunched up nose and creased eyes. It was definitely a better suited look than her angry glare, and you couldn’t stop your finger from reaching out to poke her. “Did you just boop my nose?” She laughed, all of your bratty behavior forgotten about, at least for now anyways. 

“It wanted to be booped. It told me.” You shrugged your shoulders, hyper aware of the fact that you’d voluntarily touched her and it hadn’t made your hand turn into flames. Your relationship was slowly on the mend, that much was undeniable,  but physical touch was still something you shied away from at no fault of her own, but rather your own insecurities that needed to be worked through. “Are you gonna tell Natty I pushed you?” 

“No.” Her honesty surprised you almost as much as her willingness to forgive your fatal misstep, but you nodded curtly, lips pressed into a thin line. 

“I didn’t mean to. You were just too close, and Natty didn’t listen when I asked her to let go and I panicked.” You mumbled out the reason for your behavior, aware that it sounded like an excuse but there was no ounce of judgment or disbelief in Wanda’s eyes. 

“I know.” She assured, and you deflated in relief. “You’re not going to do it again, if you do I will not be as forgiving, but I know you were feeling crowded, so I’m willing to let it go if you are.” 

You nodded eagerly, and Wanda smiled. “Can we go find Nat now?” 

-

As you expected, spending the night in your dorm was torturous. In the six weeks that you’d been away, you’d forgotten how your roommate snores and turns throughout the night, and her mattress was far noisier than yours had ever been. It hadn’t bothered you all that much at the start of the academic year, and maybe that had been because of your exhaustion with the adjustment and workload of seven classes instead of the typical four, or maybe you had just been able to get used to it, but now that you had discovered what true quiet sounds like when you sleep, there had not been a single ounce of rest achieved all night. 

Your alarm went off at fifteen minutes to six, and you cursed whoever was cruel enough to schedule an exam for seven in the morning on a Thursday in May, but you shuffled out of bed anyway and dressed quickly in the few articles of clothing that still lingered in your dorm. Most of them had been brought to the Maximoff residence, but what hadn’t made it over because it was significantly useless with the presence of warmer weather, had been dropped off in the storage unit paid for by your mother. The woman was a flaky figure in your life at best, definitely no parent, but you appreciate her dedication to your education. She paid for your tuition, she assured you had the best meal plan and access to books and study materials, and when the seasons changed and you were let out on break, she made sure there was a safe and trustworthy place to store your belongings. She’d never once said she was proud of you, but when she asked for a report of your grades and didn’t immediately berate you, you knew that she was at least satisfied. 

If you failed any of your finals, you knew there would be hell to pay. You already weren’t coming home for the summer like you usually did, and although your mother didn’t know the reason why, she was less than happy when you’d relayed the abrupt change in plans three weeks ago. She was a controlling narcissist, a woman that had brought you years of pain and suffering for her own pleasure, you knew what she was capable of the second she caught wind of academic failure, and you would not reward her the opportunity to berate you the way she did in high school when you received anything less than all A’s on your report card. It was stupid to allow a woman with no presence in your life to have so much control, but you needed to at least be perceived as a good daughter if she were going to keep paying your multi-thousand dollar bills. 

The weather today was just as hot as yesterday, but there was a rise of humidity in the air that you could feel without even stepping outside. The sky looked thick and unpleasant, miraculously blue and clear, but still gross. As much as you wanted to hide away in your room and avoid the four hour exam that awaited you, it wasn’t in the cards, and so begrudgingly you laced up your shoes and grabbed your favorite pen. It was a simple pen, nothing truly special about it, but since the day you’d stolen it from Natasha’s desk, it had been used for every paper exam. The gold lettering across the black body, the name of her and Wanda’s company, was beginning to scratch and chip from the conditions you carried it through. And for being something so beloved, anyone would have thought that you’d treat it with respect, but you released copious amounts of anger and frustration on the ballpoint pen. Your teeth dug into it when you didn’t know an answer, your nails scraped at the paint when the words you had stored away in your memory felt impossible to grasp, and there were countless times that the entire pen sat dismantled and in pieces on your desk when you just needed something else to focus on for a few seconds. During one exam, you’d taken it apart mid-way through. The spring had bounced from between your fingertips and ended up halfway across the room. Your professor was a real bitch, and hadn’t let you retrieve the piece until every single person had already left and finished. You passed the exam, but not by much, and you blamed your grade on the fact that you had to finish it with a purple gel pen that was less than special. You wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Leaving your room behind, you walked to the classroom that you’d be sitting the exam in. It wasn’t a building you were familiar with, and so you packed an extra ten minutes into your schedule to avoid being late. Flowers had started to bloom in the bushes, and the grass was so much greener then it had been in the dead of winter, but there was no comfort to be sought in this environment. Your university was fine, albeit a bit bland, but Westview had become your home. You thought Wanda’s flowers smelled sweeter then the ones planted here, and the grass in their yard was the brightest shade of green you’ve ever seen. You don’t know how they have the time to take such tender care with their plants, but it made sense for them. They were busy women, women with a fast paced life and career, but there were still mundane rituals that clung to their routine. Before the contract, it had been almost impossible to imagine CEO and world-class lawyer Natasha Maximoff taking out the trash, but now you know she does it every Wednesday. It was also impossible to imagine Wanda Maximoff on her knees and covered in mud, there was never even a wrinkle in her business attire when she returned from the office after sixteen hour days, but now you’re privy to the fact that she doesn’t shy away from getting dirty when she tends to the weeds in her garden. It’s the simple things that make their company so much better then what you’ve found at Sword University, but no matter how much you wish you could be in Westview with them, no amount of heel clicking could take you there. 

When you found the exam room, you noted that it was unpleasantly cold, and you cursed at your inability to have remembered to bring along a sweatshirt like Natasha had suggested. There was no consistency at school, some classrooms were blisteringly hot and you could work up a sweat in minutes just from sitting still, and some were so cold your fingers forgot how to function. It didn’t matter the season, or if you simply walked down the hallway, the temperature was never the same and it varied from room to room. You chose a desk near the windows. Not right next to them, knowing that it would get too hot if you were pressed right beside the uncovered sun, but close enough to still feel the lick of warmth as the golden beams of daylight nipped at your skin. It didn’t take much longer for your peers to start flooding in, and their presence brought another factor of warmth to the room, though it wasn’t much and some who hadn’t been lucky enough to find a seat near the windows shivered. You smiled at the familiar face of a student who had claimed the seat next to you. You didn’t have many friends, didn’t see the point in socializing when your focus needed to be academic, but you had grown fond of a few of the faces you saw every week. 

“This your last exam?” Monica Rambeau asked you, leaning in closer to your desk so that you wouldn’t have to shout over the other students in the room. You had seen her around since your very first class in freshman year, and you quickly became reliant on each other for notes if one of you happened to be sick and needed to miss a lecture you shared. Your major was complex, not entirely science related but not entirely separate either. You wanted to focus more on security and technology, but for some reason your school demanded that all computer science majors take chemistry and physics. Monica was good at both, you were not. She had saved your ass with her color coded notes too many times to ever ignore her small-talk. 

“Thankfully.” You laughed, tapping your pen against your desk anxiously. “I’m moving the rest of my shit out next week and then I’m spending the summer in Westview. What about you?” 

The brunette shook her head, and you winced in sympathy. As grueling as it had been to have most of your exams scheduled in the same week, save for the three classes that had requested papers and projects from you, it was nice to be done so soon into the exam period. You knew that some other unfortunate students would be stuck here for at least another week. “I have two more tomorrow, then I’m heading back to Louisiana. You ready for this?” 

“Not at all.” You laughed, though your jittery leg and fidgeting fingers easily gave away just how anxious you were. “Sitwell hasn’t made sense a day in his life, I doubt the exam will be any more coherent than his lectures.” 

Monica laughed loudly at your acquisition, but she nodded eagerly in agreement. “Tell me about it. I’ve been going over your study sheet for the last two weeks and I think I just barely understand the content from chapter one.” 

Your attention snapped to the door when it snapped open again, but unlike the last handful of times, it wasn’t a student that entered, it was your Professor Jasper Sitwell himself, and in his hands were thick bundles of paper that would determine the next year of your life. If you failed this exam, you could kiss your paid for tuition goodbye. You appreciated Monica’s attention to body language, because she seemed to get the hint that you were in no mood to continue your conversation now that Sitwell had arrived. She still offered you a smile though, a whispered ‘good luck’, before she turned straight in her desk and placed three colored pens down firmly. Leave it to Monica to remain dedicated to her color coding even at the end of the semester. 

The time had flown by after that. You’d groaned when you saw that the estimated time of this exam would be four hours, but now you felt like that wasn’t nearly enough. The first six pages of questions had come easily to you, though it was still challenging and you doubted that most of your answers were entirely correct, but the last page had stumped you rather quickly and entirely. You jumped between questions, filling in pieces of information when they came to mind, but nothing could jog your memory when you were confronted with the very last question of the exam. Your brows furrowed, a sheen of perspiration clung to your skin. Was it a trick question? No, a professor wouldn’t purposefully stump you when so much was on the line. Despite your confidence in Sitwell, you’re absolutely certain that you’ve never gone over any materials that even slightly relate to the last topic. You’ve read the textbook forward and backwards, you practically dreamed about this course material, but you had never seen these words present in any of the lectures. 

Your hand shot up from the desk before you could stop yourself, but by time you realized you were seeking attention from Sitwell, he had called you up to the front of the room. A glance at the clock on the wall beside the door told you there was just under twenty minutes left. By this point in an exam, most students would have been gone, but every single one of them still remained, and although you weren’t intentionally looking at anyone’s paper, the few that you had seen had all been open on the last page. You weren’t the only one confused.

“How can I help you, Ms. Y/L/N?” Sitwell kept his voice quiet, and like always, detached. You wondered how a man who seemed to hate every person even remotely younger than himself had found a profession in teaching, but you didn’t let his attitude deter you from asking anyway. This question could very easily make you seem like an idiot, but you were confident in yourself, and well, Jasper Sitwell seemed exactly the type to make a mistake like this. 

Matching his quiet tone, assuring that only the first row of students could hear you, you laid your exam in front of him and pointed out the question. “This isn’t related to your course, sir. It’s not in the textbook, and we’ve never gone over it in a lecture.” 

You waited for the moment he berated you for questioning his exam but it never came. When you grew the balls to look up at him, you found a smirk of satisfaction on his lips. “You’re correct. That question has no value in this course. It’s been on my exam for the last ten years and nobody has ever questioned me. Congratulations, Ms. Y/L/N, it seems somebody has finally read the textbook.” 

A look of sheer bewilderment crossed your face, but Sitwell gave you no chance to speak again before he promptly took the exam from your hands and kept it at his side. Anxiety shot through your stomach when you realized that he wasn’t going to give it back to you. There was still thirteen minutes left on the clock, and you’d intended to spend every last second meticulously checking your work until he had to pry it from your fingertips when time ran out. So much could be wrong about your answers, you could’ve missed a question or twenty, and now you’d have no way of knowing because he wouldn’t give it back. 

“Be on your way.” He nodded toward the door when you didn’t budge. There was no use arguing with him, he never listened anyways, but you couldn’t just walk away without checking over your paper one last time. 

“Sir, I still have time to go over my answers.” You weakly protested, a single palm extended in the direction of your exam, hoping that for once he was willing to budge. No luck, his jaw clenched and his eyes hardened, and you took that as a sign to get the hell out of dodge before he did something drastic like rip your exam in half. You would never be taking another class from him again, if you even got the chance to finish your degree. 

With a sigh of defeat, you headed back to your desk, collected your lucky pen, and waved subtly in Monica’s direction before you headed to the door and broke away from anything and everything even remotely related to academics for the next three months. 

-

Ever since childhood, you have adored the sight of the sun in the spring and summer months. Not in the middle of the day when it was blinding and heavy, but toward the approach of night when everything it’s surface could touch was brightened by ripples of violet and peach presence. Tonight had been the first expanse of light across the shoretown the Maximoff’s lived in, and though they’d both been home all day with a rare break from office obligations, their cars were warm to the touch when you passed by them in the driveway. 

Despite the warm air and lingerance of sunshine off in the horizon, your disposition was reflective of the colder times when attitudes clashed and people let themselves fall inward. You’d been blind to the change in mood as a child. There was no bad time of year when you were seven and strangers stopped to compliment your velcro shoes as they passed, but now that adulthood had claimed what remained of your innocence, you’d been shown the true nature of winter and fall. The first time you realized that strangers were nicer in the summer, you’d been fifteen. Admittedly, that was a bit old to only just be realizing that life was cruel and people were snobs, but you’d always been an optimist; you still are an optimist. You vowed to never become someone so mean after that day, but that was yet another promise you had failed to keep for yourself. 

Your face is set in a permanent scowl, which seems to be the new normal as Wanda and Natasha move about around you. Your arms are crossed in front of your chest, your eyes staring straight ahead of you at the movie that’s playing in the background. They’re attempting to get the house straightened up, something about hosting a barbeque over the weekend and not wanting to leave the mess to deal with at a later date. Had you been in a better mood, you would’ve offered to help, would’ve laughed and joked along with them, but the unknown of your last exam has firmly pushed you over the edge and now every minor inconvenience is working on your last available nerve. 

Wanda laughs at something Natasha whispers in her ear, the two of them somehow always finding a reason to gravitate toward one another despite the many different tasks that still needed to be accomplished. You didn’t think the house was as messy as Wanda claimed, but you hadn’t offered her that briefest sentence of reassurance. When you walked in, defeat heavy on your shoulders as you over analyzed the exchange between yourself and Professor Sitwell, you’d wanted nothing more than to fall into Natasha’s lap and let her distract you however she saw fit. She had, for a couple minutes at least, but then she’d pushed you out of her embrace and had started helping Wanda around the house. The Sokovian was practically on a mission to regain some order, dusting bookshelves and tables, collecting stray blankets that had made their way into the living room and across random furniture pieces. It hadn’t looked messy, just lived in, but that wasn’t good enough. 

“Can you lift your feet for a second?” The taller of the pair looked at you expectantly, the neck of their expensive vacuum clutched between her ringed fingers. She hadn’t been the slightest bit deterred by your poor attitude when you came barreling into the house and hadn’t even offered her so much as a hello before you plopped down in Natasha’s lap and dug your face into her neck, and she had even let you put your feet up on her coffee table when eventually the Russian left your side start cleaning. She had been very patient with you, knowing how nervous you were about the exam and your results, but much like yours, her patience wasn’t unlimited. “I asked you a question, I expect an answer.” 

You huffed, readjusting yourself on the couch, though you still didn’t move your legs out of her way. Natasha watched the scene unfold with an uninterpretable expression in her eyes. She was aware of how you’d been testing Wanda more and more as the weeks went by, and she had warned you that it was only a matter of time before the woman snapped and dealt with your attitude by her own measures. Three weeks ago, that would’ve been enough to scare you into submission, but you had shrugged off her warning to stop pushing boundaries, entirely uninterested in the conversation she was trying to have. 

Wanda sighed and let go of the vacuum, resting it against the couch to be grabbed again later. You’d expected her to move onto a different task, maybe even march her way upstairs until you changed your attitude, but when her hands grabbed at your ankles and harshly removed them from the coffee table, you gasped in shock and flinched away from her touch, a glare settled in her direction. 

“Stop!” You whined, kicking your foot out in her direction as a weak attempt at retaliation, but you made no attempt to put them back on the coffee table. Instead, you extended them outward, taking up almost the entire length of the couch. Not that it mattered, neither one of them were planning on sitting down with you anytime soon. Wanda quirked an eyebrow down at you, an expression that you were getting seriously tired of, before she reached for the remote and turned off the television. “I was watching that!” You cried out in annoyance, reaching for the remote that was held away from your hands. 

“Good girls get to watch movies.”  She simply stated and handed the remote over to Natasha, who seemed to know exactly where it needed to go. The remote was promptly placed on one of the highest shelves in the room, and the fact that it had been done on purpose because she knew you wouldn’t be able to reach that high without a stool only angered you further. 

“So what? You’re gonna ground me? I’m not a child.” You snapped at her, your voice tinged with what could only be described as pure venom. The snarky comments you’d been making for days seemed like child's play now, at least then you’d had the decency to show her some semblance of respect, but now, there wasn’t an ounce of anything kind in your tone. 

“If you’re going to act like one, I’m going to treat you like one. I have been more than patient with you, even though you’re being nothing short of a brat. My willingness to ignore your little attitude will not last much longer, so I suggest you get over yourself before I have you over my lap.” Her words should’ve scared you, they should’ve worked as a last ditch effort to get you to behave, but if anything, it only spurred you on further. You were beyond the point of simply wanting some kind of punishment. Unlike in recent days when it had been a tickle at the back of your mind, now you desperately needed it. The end of the semester always felt like the biggest relief until it actually came, and you were left with no productive purpose to fulfill. You needed a push in the right direction, and now that you had been introduced to this dynamic, where Natasha was more than willing to make decisions for you and take care of you, you wanted to fall right into that state of comfort and control. Your mind wouldn’t let you stop thinking though, and no matter how hard you pleaded with yourself to just let her take the reins, control would not be so easily relinquished. It had been weeks since your last spanking. Days since the last time she had fucked you hard enough to cause you to slip into subspace. For months you’d been shown and taught about the beauty of this dynamic, and it was just suddenly beginning to fall away. You knew that you didn’t need to be naughty to receive a spanking, knew that if you asked she’d be more than happy to provide it, but you didn’t want to need her just to feel content. It was like a double-edged sword had rammed its way into your brain and every time you turned your head you fought between completely surrendering control and always maintaining it. 

“If I’m a brat then you’re a bitch.” You met Wanda’s stare, there was no backing down now. You were so close to what you wanted, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to care that it wasn’t Natasha you were seeking it from. Ever since that night curled up in her arms when the world felt like it was ending, something was undeniably different. You didn’t want to crave her but you did, and the longer she refused to play into your games, the more you wanted her. She was scary when she was mad, terrifying when she was livid, but somehow you had crossed both of those thresholds in only one sentence. There was something dark in her eyes that you’d never seen before, and it made your stomach twist into knots knowing that you were the sole reason she had lost her happy spark. She radiated dominance, expelled the radiant energy of someone who knew they had control, even if for the briefest second, you had been foolish enough to think you were the one with it. It wasn’t anger or frustration in her eyes, although they were both present, but rather dominance. You’d seen her be dominant, you’d been scolded by her many times, but it had always been concealed. She had always remained respectful of your boundaries and control to Natasha only, but you had pushed her too far. Things had changed too much. Neither of you were the women you had been at the start of this situation, and it was only a matter of time before the carpet rolled beneath your feet and you had to face the music. 

“Get upstairs.” She demanded of you, and for the first time since showing up, you didn’t have the words to fight. You scrambled off the couch and practically flew toward the stairs, only to stop halfway up when you realized you didn’t know where she wanted you to go. 

“Our bedroom, honey.” Natasha called after you, having watched the entire thing unfold. Now that you realized what position you had walked yourself into, there was anxiety flooding your desperate gaze as you pleaded with her to save you. Natasha wouldn’t save you this time though. She had warned you, told you that you wouldn’t like the trap you were walking yourself into, but you hadn’t listened. “I’ll be up to talk with you in a second, it’s okay.” 

“Y/N, if you are not in that room in the next twenty seconds, I will not be so kind as to give you the choice about what I spank your ass with.” Wanda’s voice was level, it didn’t waver like you knew yours would if you even dared to try and speak. You nodded frantically, scrambling to get up the stairs and into their bedroom before the countdown in your head got down to zero. 

You didn’t know what to do once you were inside, didn’t know if you should close the door or leave it open, didn’t know if you should sit on the bed or continue to stand beside it. You’d never been alone in their bedroom, it felt like an odd invasion of privacy now that you were. Your mind reeled with endless possibilities, though none of them pleasant. Wanda was going to spank you, she had practically promised that, but what else would she do? Would she make you terminate your contract with Natasha because you’d called her a bitch? Would she slap you around like your father had done when you’d ever dared to disrespect him so aggressively? Tears pricked your eyes at all of your unanswered questions, and you noted that this feeling in your belly was distinctly different then the times when Natasha pulled you over her lap. You’d gotten a handful of punishments before, of course you have because even though you like being good for her, it’s still fun to act out, but those punishments had always been light with the unspoken promise of sexual relief afterward. This was the first time you’d ever actually been punished outside of sexual interactions. This was the first time you’d ever pissed Wanda off enough to be the one who dealt the cards. So much was changing and you couldn’t keep up, but really there was nothing for you to keep up with. You didn’t know what would happen next, you had never been in this situation before. 

The floorboards creaked beneath footsteps, and you noted that just beyond the window not covered by blinds, the sunshine had finally settled. Nothing was left to see beside darkened skies and the roofs of all of the other houses on the block, though even then the sight was void of any actual interest. The Maximoff residence was the largest on the block, and it towered over the houses that sat on both sides of it. You’d always thought that CEO’s lived in big lavish mansions, but Wanda and Natasha had chosen a perfectly normal town to settle down in. They had expensive cars, sure, but that wasn’t even a fraction of the money they had. They were total anomalies, and that fact was only making you grow more uneasy. 

“Detka.” Natasha sighed, and you were thankful it was only her that had entered. Had Wanda been with her, you would’ve spiral face down into a panic attack that couldn’t be stopped. “I warned you, did I not?” 

You sighed, knowing that there was no time for her to give you all the reassurances you needed. Wanda was being kind enough to let Natasha check in on you, but you doubted she had the patience to sit downstairs for hours as you pleaded with your dominant to give you answers even she didn’t have. “J-Just tell me what’s gonna happen. I need to know what’s going to happen.” 

“She’s going to spank you, and then she’s going to hold you, and reassure you that you’re okay. No different from what I do. Are you okay with her spanking you? I know we’ve talked about it, but this isn’t the funishment you thought you’d be getting when we agreed to those conditions, huh?” Natasha collected you into her arms, being surprisingly gentle with you despite the fact that you had just called her wife a bitch. You shook your head against her chest, fisting her loose fitting t-shirt in your heads, fearing that she would pull away far too early for your liking. 

“I wanted you to spank me.” You admitted sheepishly into her touch, sighing softly when her fingers tangled into your hair and gently worked out the knots that lingered near the ends. “I’ve been good and you’ve been… soft. And I just can’t get my brain to be quiet, and I wanted you to spank me so I kept trying to push your buttons and you just kept forgiving me.” 

“Daddy’s been pretty lenient with you, hasn’t she?” Natasha cooed, not placing blame on your shoulders even though you knew she very easily could have. You nodded in response to her question, feeling better now that she was aware of the root cause of your attitude, even if that didn’t save you from Wanda’s wrath. “You’ve been breaking a lot of rules, rules that Wanda’s aware of.” 

“She’s gonna give me ten for every one, isn’t she?” You winced, knowing that this would not be a pleasant experience and your ass was sure to hurt every time you sat down for at least the next week. 

“She is, and it’s going to hurt. It’s supposed to hurt, but she’s not going to push you farther than you can handle. What do you call if you need a break?” Natasha asked sweetly, pulling your face away from her chest and holding your cheeks in her hands, forcing you to look up into her eyes and see that there's no lingering resentment or anger. 

“Yellow.” You answered, the word engraved in your brain despite having never needed to call it. “Red if I need it to stop completely. But… we’re not playing.” 

“Just because she’s not going to touch you after doesn’t mean that it’s okay for her to break you, detka. Is that what you thought was going to happen?” Natasha frowns, her lips turning deeper downward when you nodded as an answer. 

“My dad… punished me with violence. He didn’t stop until he wanted to. You’ve only ever punished me sexually, not because I purposely broke the outside rules.” You whispered, another hint at your traumatic past hanging in the air. “I called her a bitch. I tried to kick her. I pushed her in the store yesterday.” You admitted, though when there was no reaction, you guessed that Wanda had already told her. 

“Because you needed space. She is not going to punish you for that. She’s going to punish you because you were being disrespectful, and because you need it, huh? You need help getting that brain to shut off. You did so many big things this week, I bet it’s not that easy to just come back to this dynamic and allow us to take control when you’ve been the one in charge all week.” Natasha whispered knowingly, a glint in her eyes that reassured you of her understanding. “Finals are stressful. When Wanda and I were in college, we used to go at each other until we were red in the face and then we’d move on like nothing happened. We get it, milaya. We don’t expect you to be good at this yet, or to know how to ask for what you need. You can stop thinking the world is going to end because you made a mistake.” 

“I meant to call her a bitch, but I didn’t actually mean it.” You admitted softly and Natasha chuckled, pulling you in closer and laying a kiss to the tip of your nose. 

“We both know what you meant, malyshka. She’s not downstairs brewing in anger, even though I’m sure that’s what you’re thinking. This dynamic is not about fear and power. I should’ve explained that better. You have all the power here, honey, but just like you can call red, so can she. It’s a balance, a team effort. You got it?” 

“I got it.” You sighed, leaning into her touch, wishing you could just surrender to this moment for the rest of your life, but there was no way that was happening. As daunting as it was, you needed Wanda to punish you. You want to let go of the guilt, you want to relinquish control and just listen to what they ask of you. “I’m sorry.” 

“I’m not the one you need to be apologizing to, but it’s okay. You did nothing wrong, even if I don’t exactly like you calling my wife a bitch.” She teased, her fingers leaving your cheeks to trail down toward your ribs where she knows your ticklish. You shrieked in response, wiggling away from her fingers just in time for Wanda to knock on the open bedroom door and announce her presence. 

She was significantly calmer then she had been downstairs, and that faint lick of anger in her eyes had settled to dust, but she still captivated you and sought for your submission. Her eyes were green, you forced yourself to remember that fact. They weren’t overcome with blackness like all the other times you’ve awaited punishment, but thoughts of your childhood didn’t even come to mind as you let yourself be present in this moment. This was not your childhood. The second you needed this to stop, or you needed her to slow down, you had to say one simple word and it would. As much as this act was about you giving over control, you knew that the reality was you would never be fully powerless.

You didn’t know what to say, if you should even say anything at all, so you merely waved your hand in Wanda’s direction, not wanting to completely ignore her. She smiled softly at you, not softening her body language, but at least her face mirrored your greeting. 

“Hi, malen’kaya.” She laughed softly, and you were relieved to find that Natasha had been being honest about Wanda not brewing in her anger, though you hadn’t really doubted her, just needed that validation for yourself. “You talk to Natty?” 

“Mmhm.” You nodded your head, unaware of how your hand still tangled in the fabric of Natasha’s t-shirt gripped onto her harshly. It was an unconscious thing, but was quickly soothed by a kiss being placed into your hairline. 

“I’m gonna be right here, ангел. If I think you need to call red and you’re not doing it yourself, I’m going to call it. Nothing bad is going to happen.” She promised, and you felt better at the proposition that she’d be looking out for you as well. 

“That was quite the show you put on downstairs.” Wanda mused, her face back to that blank slate of dominance that made your palms clammy. You stepped closer to Natasha, just barely managing to nod your head at her admission. “Come with me.” 

“Go ahead, I’ll still be here.” Natasha sent you toward Wanda with a gentle shove, and when you looked back at her over your shoulder, she merely smiled in reassurance. 

Wanda led you over to the walk-in closet You’d never been inside, but you’d seen Natasha disappear into it after a scene, usually when she was scrounging around to find a specific cooling lotion for your ass. Wanda didn’t make any efforts to invade your space, giving you time to accept your fate on your own accord. The space was large, and there were no shortage of dresses and suits hung up on the taller racks. You smiled softly at a purple suit in the corner, wondering which of the two women it belonged to. 

“That’s Natasha’s.” Wanda hummed, seeming to follow your eye toward the suit. “That’s not why we're in here though.” 

You nodded, pulling your eye away from the suit in favor of following whatever box Wanda was pointing out. It was large and black, one of the only objects in the closet that looked like it didn’t really belong. She walked over to it, getting down on her knees and motioning for you to do the same. 

“I can either spank you with my hand, or with a paddle.” You swallowed thickly at your options, but nodded your head and looked down at the case that Wanda had pulled open. Your eyes practically bulged out of your head at the sight of so many sex toys, but Wanda merely laughed at your flushed cheeks. “Natasha isn’t much a fan of being paddled. It stings and will burn for longer than a hand spanking does, but she has received plenty of both.” There’s a tinge of fond exasperation in Wanda’s words that make you think Natasha is better at asking for what she needs than you are, and that most of the spankings Wanda’s internally recounting aren’t all derived from punishment. You remember the conversation you had weeks ago, where Wanda had confirmed that Natasha was the submissive in their relationship. 

“I don’t want that.” You whispered, shaking your head adamantly. “Never.” 

“Okay. That’s perfectly okay. Not everyone likes instruments being used for a spanking. This is the lotion I’m going to put on you afterward. It’s the same one Natasha uses, but I want you to know what to expect.” Wanda gives you the bottle, and you don’t even bother to look down at it, entirely focused on her face. There’s something different about her like this, so easily dominant and captivating, you want to commit this new energy to memory. “You’re going to get fifty spanks. If you need to slow down, or if you need to stop, I expect that you call your safewords. If I need to stop, I’m going to call mine. Part of your punishment is that you will not be receiving an orgasm afterward. You're lucky I haven’t taken them away for the next week.” 

You gulped, suddenly remembering that this was a punishment, although you didn’t know how you could have forgotten that fact. Wanda smirked in amusement at your flushed features, and tenderly she reached up to smoothing stray strands of hair away from your face. “Can I kiss you?” She asked quietly, and although it was Wanda not Natasha, you nodded eagerly. You didn’t hate her, you didn’t dislike her, you wanted her just as badly as you wanted Natasha. You didn’t know how you’d been so blind to that fact for so long. “Words, detka.” 

“Yes.” You breathed out, already leaning into her touch when she set her hands on your cheeks and pulled your face into hers. Her lips were soft beneath yours, softer than Natasha’s, and she tasted like the fakest cherries. Her tongue swiped across your bottom lip, asking for entrance rather than demanding it. You didn’t hesitate to let her in, moaning softly into her mouth when her hot and heavy tongue licked against yours and officially claimed you the way you had seen it do to Natasha on a handful of occasions. 

You don’t know how many minutes had passed as you sat on the floor of the walk-in closet, but when Wanda finally pulled away from you, her chest rising and falling faster than it had been before, your cheeks were flush for more than one reason. 

“You can’t kiss me like that after you tell me I’m not allowed to cum tonight.” You whined softly, squirming on the floor as your arousal made its presence known between your legs. Wanda laughed in amusement, a dangerous smirk playing on her lips. 

“I guess little girls need to learn how to behave if they want something from Mommy then.” The softest inch of her accent had drifted into the words, and if that wasn’t enough to send a rush of pleasure straight to your core, the added bonus of her title was. You whined desperately, your thighs rubbing together as you sought out even a second of relief. Flashes of Natasha teasing you on the phone came to mind, and the lust in your eyes only intensified. “Enough.” Wanda scolded, “I want you naked and bent over the bed in the next three minutes.” 

You nodded obediently, having done enough arguing for the night. You got to your feet with the same grace as bambi, practically bolting out of the closet and into the bedroom. You giggled softly when you realized that your first kiss with the lawyer who was very proudly a lesbian had been in a closet of all places. 

“There’s no way whatever happened in that closet deserves to be laughed about.” Natasha quirked an eyebrow in your direction, though it was significantly less scary then when Wanda did it. She watched you strip out of your clothes hurriedly, not sparing the few minutes you had been given to fold them nicely in a pile. 

“Your wife is a lesbian.” You deadpanned, though you knew Natasha was very much aware of that fact if the felt pride flag in what you assumed was Wanda’s side of the closet had ever caught her attention. 

“Yes, thank you for stating the obvious.” 

“And she just kissed me in the closet.” You giggled, and Natasha couldn’t say that she wasn’t equally as amused as you were, but she had the decency to control her laughter in front of Wanda, who you hadn’t even realized was standing right behind you. 

“If you don’t want me to add another ten onto your fifty, you’ll bend your ass over my bed and stop making me wait.” Your blood went cold and your spine straightened as you felt the softest trace of Wanda’s warm breath against the shell of your ear. The warning didn’t need to be whispered twice, because you were already scrambling to get into position, a lot less nervous then you had been before. “I want you to count them all. If you miss one, I add two more.” 

“Okay.” You whispered, already fisting the comforter in your hands, waiting for the first strike to land against your uncovered ass. You didn’t even have it in your to be embarrassed about Wanda seeing you so exposed, just wanting to get this situation over with so that you could fall face first into Natasha’s chest. 

“Is that how we address our dominants now?” Wanda practically growled, standing so closer to you that you could feel the heat of her body radiating onto yours. 

“Yes, Mommy.” You fixed your mistake, your eyes pinched closed as you pushed your hips backward until they met her thighs, unconsciously seeking relief for your clit that was pulsing between your legs. You shrieked in surprise when she abruptly stepped away and laid the first hit onto your left cheek in only a matter of seconds. It didn’t take a genius to know that Wanda was well practiced in this domain. The spank was hard, significantly harder then Natasha had ever started out with, and you knew you were in for it with the promise of forty-nine more to come. “One, Mommy.” 

Your grip on the comforter got tighter and tighter with each spank that came next until your knuckles were white and your chin trembled from the onslaught of pain. At the thirteenth spank, you moaned in pleasure, and your hips bucked backward  desperately searching for pressure between your thighs that never came and wouldn’t come. Wanda’s laughter was anything but genuine behind you, and you didn’t even want to imagine what you must look like to her; bent over the bed she shares with her wife, your ass pink from the assault of her palm, and arousal dampening the insides of your thighs. 

“So much for not having a pain kink.” She mused, though she wasn’t really talking to you. Natasha was sitting at the head of the bed with a smug gleam in her eyes, and you knew the sight of you like this was turning her on, if the dilation in her pupils was any indication of that fact. “Little slut is dripping.” You gasped when soft fingers ran over your ass, dipping lower and lower until they found your empty entrance that begged for anything to fill it, be it a dildo or the fingers of the woman who was responsible for pushing you into this state. “Do you like when Mommy hits you?” 

“Yes.” You whine, not even attempting to keep your hips still as Wanda collects your arousal on the tips of her fingers, but like promised, never reaches your clit. You cried out your protests when her fingers left your core, only for you to gasp in shock when she leaned forward on the bed and fed them expectantly to Natasha who let her mouth fall open in acceptance.

The redhead moaned at the taste of you on her tongue, lapping at Wanda’s fingers until they were clean of your excitement. A needy moan left your lips seeing the blissful expression on the face of your dominant, and desperately you reached out for her hand that laid next to yours overtop of the white blankets on the bed. She let you grasp it, let you squeeze it and pull at it, but she never leaned in any closer to you. This was a punishment, you would not be rewarded midway through. 

Wanda’s additional weight caused the bed to dip, and you had to readjust your stance to keep from slipping onto the floor. She wasn’t behind you anymore, rather perched on the bed beside your body, leaning in close to her wife whose lips shone in the dim lighting of the room with traces of your arousal. Wanda kissed her deeply, the wet sounds their moving mouths made taunting you further, and you groaned in response to their teasing. The lawyer who hadn’t even gotten halfway through your punishment moaned at the taste of you on her tongue, only pulling away from Natasha when she needed a break for air. 

She was back behind the second she was breathing normally, and the fourteenth spank came in the same place her thirteenth one had. You counted out the spanks as they came, but other than the contact her palm made with your ass, you were properly ignored. If Wanda made a comment, it was directed to Natasha, and the one time you had been bold enough to answer for yourself, you had been met with a spank to the back of your thigh that was admittedly very soft and careful. 

It was after twenty that you no longer found pleasure in her hits, and your moans and whines had turned to cries and sobs. Natasha held your hand firmly, her thumb rubbing against your knuckles as you took your punishment well. Wanda was proud of you, even if she hadn’t told you that yet. 

“F-forty!” You sobbed out, arching away from the lawyer's hand only seconds after it came down on your ass. Your entire body ached from the position you were half-stood in, your cunt pulsed with need, but your ass was on fire and you had no doubt that it would be bruised by sunrise tomorrow. “Please.” You cried out, but you didn’t even know what you were begging for.  

“You’re doing so good. You’re doing so good for me, milaya.” Wanda soothed you quickly and effectively, her tone soft and gentle as she let you have your feelings. The heavy hand that had been assaulting your skin for the last twenty minutes if the clock on her bedside table was accurate was suddenly soft as she rubbed soft circles on your ass, soothing the sting into a more bearable ache. “Ten more and then we can cuddle. Why don’t you let Natty’s hand go and she’ll go get you some water.” 

“N-No! No! Natty stay!” You held onto her desperately, like even the suggestion of her leaving would make it come true. 

“I’m staying, malyshka. I’m staying.” Natasha assured you, scooting closer to your trembling body so she could lay a hand on your naked back, her firm touch grounding you in this moment where both of your dominants were with you. “You’re okay. You’re being so good. Such a good girl. Ten more baby, think you can do that?” 

You nodded albeit weakly, and Wanda took that as her sign to keep going, to get this over with so that she could put her efforts into comforting you. It was on the last spank that you had crumbled completely, going limp against the bed as you sobbed in relief. You made the decision that you never wanted to piss Wanda off to this extent again. 

“Good girl. You were so good. Took your spanking so well.” Wanda helped you stand up, spinning you around so that her eyes could meet yours for the first time in half an hour. 

“Mommy.” You sobbed, falling face first into her chest, clutching the fabric of her shirt in your trembling fists. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You repeated it like a mantra, sobs and sniffles the only other audible sound that you could hear. You didn’t recognize Wanda praising you for taking your punishment so well, you didn’t hear her whisper of a promise that it was over and you were forgiven. You hadn’t even realized that Natasha had promptly left the bedroom and gone down to the kitchen to retrieve water and a snack if you wanted it. 

“Hey, hey. Look at me, look at Mommy.” Wanda coaxed your attention up at her, pulling your face out of the pit of darkness you had found against her chest. “You’re okay. It’s over. It’s all over.” 

You nodded weakly, letting Wanda guide you into the middle of the bed and onto your belly. As promised, she rubbed the cooling lotion into your skin, mumbling soft praises beneath her breath whenever you flinched away from the contact. The soft cooling effect hadn’t taken long to set in, and when it did, it was like an immediate sense of relief had washed over your senses, though everything was still foggy and far away. You only barely recognized Natasha sitting down beside you, but you whined in protest when she tried to pull you into her side, reaching out to Wanda with a pleading look in your eyes that neither one of them could ignore. 

It hurt to sit, that was putting it lightly, but you forced yourself up into a sitting position so that you could accept the bottle of water Natasha offered. She held it up to your lips as you gulped it down quickly, finishing half the bottle before she pulled it away, worried that you’d upset your stomach if you drank it all so quickly. Wanda had laid down beside you, forcing you onto her chest to alleviate the discomfort in your bottom. With your head on her chest, your legs between hers, your eyes searched for Natasha as she moved around the room, collecting pajamas and a wet washcloth that would be used to clean up the unfixed mess between your legs. 

The first pass of the warm fabric between your legs had rubbed against your clit accidentally, and you moaned in pleasure that was quickly taken away. “Sorry, sweetheart. Not tonight.” She shushed your cries softly, though it didn’t make you any happier. You wiggled against Wanda at the uncomfortable feeling you weren’t used to being left with, and she didn’t try to stop you from rubbing your legs together. 

“Tomorrow.” She whispered against your temple when you grew frustrated at not being able to fully satisfy the ache. “The more you move the worse it’s going to get. Mommy will take care of you tomorrow, just rest for right now. Close your eyes, detka.” 

When Wanda’s finger attempted to wipe the fallen tears off your cheeks, you were quick to capture the finger between your teeth, and she didn’t even stop you. She smiled down at your flushed face, feeling more than content with your current clinginess. She knew you were down pretty far in that floaty headspace Natasha managed to ease you into every so often, and pride swelled in her chest knowing you were comfortable enough to allow her the privilege of not only seeing you this way, but making you this way. 

“Ten bucks says she doesn’t leave your side tomorrow.” Natasha had hummed softly once she was sure you were asleep, only half dressed in the pajamas she had pulled out of the dresser for you. The shorts on your legs were a pair of hers, but you had been adamant against her putting the t-shirt on your body when you realized it entailed pulling away from Wanda’s chest. 

Wanda rolled her eyes, though there was a fond smile on her lips that gave away her true feelings about this shift in your dynamic. Not perfect, but getting there. “I’m not making a deal, I know I’ll lose, Romanoff.” 

“It’s Maximoff. Or did you forget?” Natasha quirked an auburn eyebrow, mirroring the expression Wanda had mastered after years of practice. She leaned over your body, careful not to jostle you too much and rouse you from slumber, and she kissed her wide softly, though the taste of your arousal still clung to her taste buds, and when Wanda realized, she shoved her away. 

“If you keep kissing me when you taste like her I’ll never be taken seriously again.” The Sokovian warned, already addicted to the taste of your arousal, though she took punishment seriously, and it wouldn't be until the early afternoon settled overtop of Westview tomorrow when you found out just how good she is with her tongue.

[vhaos-chaotic-writing]

ahhhh hi!! If your requests are still open, could I please have Yandere hcs of transformers prime Optimus and Megatron(separate) with a gn reader? If you want you can also add in a random character for Yandere hcs as well! Thank you for your time have a good one!

(Turns around the with the most evil smile of them all) Now we getting freaky!! (•ˋ w ˊ•) Hue-hue-hue !

Yandere!Optimus Prime & Yandere!Megatron (TFP) Headcanons!

WARNING: Yandere behaviour, stalking, typical violence from the series and a little bit more, kidnapping, a lil mention of body horror (not sure if it counts). Reader is Gender Neutral.

OPTIMUS PRIME

I will classify Optimus as a Protective, soft worshipper yandere that has a little hint of uncanny valley (I'll talk about this in a moment).

Optimus' life is sadly surrounded with tragedy as he tries to keep a hopeful light on top of his helm for the sake of not giving up and letting down the Autobots.

We now how Optimus is always mourning and yet keeping his helm up, being strong for the others, being idolized by others and having the fate of "the chosen one" written all over him when... he never asked for it.

And he is tired. It's like he is always walking in the middle of the darkness with not a single path to take - lost, feeling like he is losing himself piece by piece... until You arrived.

As a beacon of light.

He has lost too many loved ones - friends, teammates... but deep down, silently, always thanked Primus to have taken anyone else and not You.

I think Optimus' yandere personality would be like Akemi Homura's love for Kaname Madoka - everytime he sees you, he sees nothing but light. Hope. Perfection. Your existence brings nothing but pure happiness and warmth.

The yandere to always kneel in front of you and hold your hands, thanking you for existing and deem him worthy enough of having your presence near him.

If you are a cybertronian, he would pray to Primus for the day to come he finally confesses his love for you, and you share said feelings too and become his Conjux Endura, in this life and the next one.

If you are a human, he would feel this burning need to become your guardian, your protector. His little safe space from the war and battles, always asking you things about your world and about you, promising you with every breath he takes he is going to keep you safe.

Either as a cybertronian or human, he is not letting you anywhere close to battles. He can't lose you. He won't lose you.

Remember the Uncanny valley thing I said? I see Optimus as this kind of yandere that forgets that he is existing in the same place as you - and stares. Just... stares.

The only thing that is giving out he is still living is how his optics move little by little, remembering everything about you again and again, his systems replaying his promises to you and why he keeps fighting, why he is willing to sacrifice the others and himself - to protect you.

Imagine the Yuri stare moment from Doki Doki Literature Club. Yeah, that is the Uncanny Valley I'm talking about.

Following you, stalking you - and you don't actually see him at first (How when he is just the size of a giant?). You move, you go from place to place, room to room. Until you finally find him, peaking from somewhere. Staring at you as you are swallowed by the shadow he casts upon you.

"My spark... my deity. My one and only." He whispers as he gently snuzzles his helm against your helm/torso as he holds you closely to him.

MEGATRON

Megatron gives me the vibes to be a yandere that changes from a type to another.

Definitely an aggressive yandere, but transitions from sadistic-possessive to delusional-paranoiac with the past of times and the events you live with him.

Megatron can see as much as he wants that he only wants a 'strong significant other' by his side and that he 'will not stick to a weak individual' - if he falls and falls hard it is done for him.

You are going to be in this situation of being seen as an equal but also as a pet or possession he owns in his optics.

Definitely kidnaps you - no matter if you are a human or cybertronian, either part of the Autobots, neutral or a Decepticon.

Is not afraid to threaten you or even hurt you (but not that much, he wants you still alive, after all - he can't love you if you are no longer breathing).

Actively reminds you he owns you.

"You are MINE. I will tear any bot's throat if they ever think they can take you from me - so you better think carefuly the moment you open your mouth, dear. Unless you want to see energon or blood all over the place."

The transition I told you about would happen only if your life is put in danger and actually get too close to die.

Imagine if you are hurt, bleeding and bruised but still breathing, totally gonna survive and live another day. Megatron is not a mech to feel fear. But Primus - he felt a dread and despair as he kept processing what happened, hugging you against his chestplate as his system spirals deeper and deeper, his need to possess you becoming paranoia.

If you are a cybertronian, Megatron is going to start having ideas about... merging his spark with yours - but in a sense fusing, becoming literally one - you'll be his spark as he becomes your body.

"You'll become the energon running inside of my system, my software and system, the spark - that way, no one will take you away from me."

If you are a human, will get Soundwave, Knockout and Shockwave to work on a project - to build you a cybertronian body and fuse you with it, defying the laws of your lifespan and finally making you one of his kind.

"There you are... stop crying, my dear. You are perfect now - and as long as I live, you will live. My conjux endura."

My baby brain hurts, had a headache for like 3 hours. (っ´Ι`)っ Vhaos out!

[ihaznoclue]

hello! Can we have movie shadow x a seriously hurt reader prehaps? The reader is now close to death after them getting the second cannon key and shadow finds them close to deaths door and saves them after growing close to them as the mission for revenge has gone on?

Pairings -> Shadow the Hedgehog x Reader

Warnings -> Injuries, near death experiences, getting shot

Note -> Reader gets seriously injured when getting the second key luckily shadow finds them and saves them

Genre -> Angst

Shadow The Hedgehog

This was your mission, a mission that you couldn't mess up or there will be consequences for you You were willing to help for shadow, his revenge for his friends death. You wanted to help shadow, after all his pain and suffering you wanted to help him get his revenge towards G.U.N.

You didn't like G.U.N either, many things you hated about them and you wanted to change everything that they did.

Now your mission was to get the second key from the G.U.N base that was in London. You never been to London before but here you were now in the G.U.N base, quietly getting through security.

Luckily you went through the vents to get to the place you needed to be, crawling the tight space as you looked to the side to see so many G.U.N members walking around keeping guard.

You were nervous yes but you were willing to do this, because you agreed that instead of the Robotniks to get the key you would do it instead.

Shadow didn't like the idea of you going alone but you reassured him that you will be fine as you would go in and out quickly.

Shadow stayed with Stone in the crab underground in the sewers, watching a film movie while you and the Robotniks went inside. Shadow was staying put until he was told to help just in case.

You were crawling a little bit more in the vents trying to keep quiet, hearing voices here and there as you finally reached where the key would be.

You needed to kick down the vent in order to get out, which was a bad idea as it made so much noise so you waited for a couple of seconds to here if anyone was coming.

No-one

You sighed in relief as you got out of the vents as you stood up stretching form being in that tight ass vents for so long.

The place was empty and quiet which was a bit eerie for you but you spotted the key, you were going to reach it but..

"Hold it right there!"

well shit.. you were caught

You knew that would happen for kicking the vents so God damn loud so you froze putting on a act to help save you from getting shot or something like that.

"Turn around and put your hand where I can see them"

You obeyed as you turned around and put your hands up, you need to think of something to get out of this situation

All that you could do was

Run?

Hide?

Get shot?

Run it is...

"Come back here!"

You ran and ran where your feet could go, that was until shot were fire towards you

"Are you kidding me?!" You shouted as you ran passed more guys as they put up there Guns

You didn't know where the exit was and if you did go to the exit you were sure there would be more people there to stop you from leaving

You were scared that you were going to die, as you turned a corner a shot hit your shoulder which caused you to scream

Blood staining your clothes as you ran more, a another shot hit the side of your hip only slightly as more blood came out

You were sure going to lose a lot of blood for this, you turned around as you saw no-one following you anymore as you lost them

You then hit your head on the wall as you came to a dead end, your head was throbbing as you slouched down of the wall into sitting

You needed to get someone to come and get you

Whispering Shadow's name as then everything went black as you passed out

With Shadow, he was with the second key as he took it from Tom who he thought was the commander

Now all he needed is to find you, hoping you were okay as he used chaos control to teleport everywhere in the base to find you

Eventually he did as he spotted you in a terrible state he didn't want to see you in, blood spilling on the floor, who ever did this to you would pay but he needed to get you out of here

He never used chaos control with a human before but he was willing to try to get you to safety and to get you healed

He needed to save you or else he would lose both of the people he loved and cared for the most

He wanted to you alive and he was willing to fight for it

-A<3

[myfictionaldreams]

Day 9: Size Kink - Ari Levinson

Summary: Ari was your grumpy (handsome) boss, who never smiled at anyone. So why did he care so much if you smiled at someone else?

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, grumpy vs sunshine, arguments, size difference, size kink (Ari is huge in every way), showing off strength, manhandling, spit as lube, fingering, possessive, rough sex

masterlist 📚 

kinktober masterlist😈 

AO3 Link 

It had been a long day already; the sun was beaming down, which meant the bar was packed to capacity, with endless drinks and money being swapped. You thrived on days like this, enjoying the perks an extra broad smile could get you from willing customers who hadn’t appreciated service with a smile. Today, there was one specific customer, Matt, who was sitting on a stool in the middle of the bar and had been complimenting you for the entire afternoon.

He was harmless and continuously gave you tips with every drink, so you plastered a great, broad, fake smile that ached your cheeks every time you went near him. Ari watched from the end of the bar at how you smiled towards the stranger and how the man smiled back, and the second your back was turned, his eyes would be searching your body greedily.

Ari’s hand tightened around the beer bottle to the point that he was close to shattering it and had to take a long breath through his nose to calm himself down. Yet, he continued to watch. He always used the excuse that because he was the boss, he needed to keep a close eye on the goings on in his establishment and his employees, but deep down, he knew there was another reason he was always sitting at the bar rather than in his office.

The liquor you needed for your requested drink was empty as you lifted it to show the customer with a closed-lipped smile, “need a new one”, you quickly explained before leaving out the back of the bar. 

All of the stock was kept in the cellar, so you descended the steps carefully, taking your time to have a quiet moment to yourself. Scanning the rows of liquid against the wall, you sighed, seeing that the one bottle you needed was on the highest shelf, which you would struggle to reach. Straining up on the tips of your toes, your arm stretched out as far as it could, reaching for the bottle, but a searing warmth burned through the clothes on your lower back as Ari pressed against it, using it as leverage to reach above you to grab the liquor easily.

You jumped at his sudden presence but were also not surprised, as he usually found an excuse to follow you throughout the bar. Peering up at him, you exclaimed, “God, Ari, you scared me. Wait, what’s that look for? What’s wrong?”.

He didn’t say a word, but you knew something wasn’t right by the angry scowl, which usually softened whenever you smiled up at him like you were attempting to do now. Unlike behind the bar, this smile was genuine, and the joy reached your eyes, making them appear as if they were twinkling. Ari would always do feats like this, showing off his staggering size and strength so that he could experience this smile to the point that he seemed to be always standing over you, with his towering height that made your neck ache, one of the few people to make you feel small in stature, dainty even, especially when he became all dominant and acting like the resident bodyguard for the bar. Everyone knew not to mess with the boss.

It was hard not to fall for him; sure that everyone who was attracted to a man fell in love with him as soon as they saw him sitting at the bar or over your shoulder. To be truthful, there were times when you faked not being able to lift a table or heavy pot of glasses just so that he could come and lift things whilst you oggled at his psychic, but he was happy to help, even though he always had that deep frown.

The frown that he was currently still looking at you with enough that it had you feeling slightly uneasy as you looked away to the alcohol in his hand, reaching for it. “Oh, thank you! Don’t think I would have been able to reach that anyway.” Your hand extended to grab the bottle, but he held it back and out of your reach.

Ari’s eyes darkened in colour as he stepped forward, and instinctively, you stepped back until you were pressed against the cool brick wall with his towering body hovering over yours, his arm resting above your head. Despite stepping away from him, the stance didn’t phase you. Once again, he was doing it to show off the size difference, and you made sure not to waver with your smile, still beaming up at him.

Ari’s shoulder-length hair fell to shadow his handsome face, and all you wanted to do was run your fingers through the soft strands and brush them behind his ears. Even though he may appear threatening, you trusted Ari with your entire life, and the two of you always seemed to be teetering on the edge of being flirtatious. Still, you’d never have the courage to make a move, mainly because he was your boss.

The giant man studied you for a long moment, inspecting your face to the point you became self-conscious until they lingered on your smiling lips.

“You need to stop smiling at him”, Ari demanded with his voice low and gravely. Your smile finally dropped as you released a choked laugh, causing your shoulders to shake with the force.

“What? Smiling at who?” you asked, dumbfounded. He gestures with his head, nodding towards the stairs and to the bar when it finally dawned on you who he was referring to. Crossing your arms over your chest, you continued, “What? Matt, the guy at the bar? He’s harmless, and didn’t you always tell us that we need to serve our drinks with a smile?” As you teased Ari, you raised onto your tiptoes to lean closer and gloat the broad smile that was back on your face.

He didn’t break, continuing to frown, but now his shoulders were tense. “You need to stop”, he growled, stepping even closer until you could feel the warmth from his chest, “You don’t know what he wants, so stop smiling at him; he’ll get his hopes up”.

“Oh, and you know what he wants, do you? You can’t be upset with me because I’m being nice to a customer, and what makes this smile different to all the others that I’ve given to the others?”. You’d come to the realisation that Ari was most likely jealous, and even though it made your heart pound in your chest and excitement wanting to burst from your smile, you had tried to act like you usually did. Even though seeing him being somewhat possessive and obvious with his feelings made you want to shout it from the rooftop.

“Not. With. Him”, Ari grounds out each word with enough venom that you almost wanted to shrink away.

“Fine”, you say with confidence whilst shrugging your shoulders, “So who am I allowed to smile at then? I like happiness and want to smile at someone who returns it. Who else am I supposed to do it with because you sure as hell don’t smile at me”.

Ari doesn't say anything, so you lift a hand and rest it on his shoulders before tapping with your fingers and resisting the urge to give the muscles that you could feel a good squeeze. “You need to relax a little, Boss, it’s fine. I won’t smile at him, I promise. Now, can I go back to work, please?”

All he does is grunt in answer, giving him a Neanderthal appearance as he holds out the bottle of liquor and moves away from the wall to provide you with room to move past him. Accepting the bottle, you thanked him genuinely before walking back towards the stairs with him only an inch behind.

Returning to the bar, you’d expected him to return to his seat at the end, but he stood behind you, staring at Matt with his arms crossed. You wanted to sigh but thought it best not to poke the bear, as they say, especially when he was so riled up.

Pouring the guy's drink, you passed it to him and stated the price, all without a smile. The customer didn’t look in your direction as he eyed Ari, asking, “What’s his problem?” All you did was shrug in response whilst handing out your hand still for the money. Instead of reading the situation and knowing when to keep his mouth closed, Matt made the mistake of muttering under his breath, “I bet he’s an asshole to work for”.

The money for the drink fell into the centre of your palm just as Ari suddenly was at your back, but you tried to push him back, feeling the heat already burning your face with anger as you pointed towards the door. “Get out”, you demanded confidently.

“What?” Matt shouted, astonished that you’d even say such a thing.

“You heard me; get the fuck out” The adrenaline was deciding your actions as you became increasingly angry at what he’d said about Ari. Slamming the money onto the bar counter, you pointed at the door again for emphasis.

Matt finally snapped, kicking back his stool and slamming his drink on the counter, “Are you fucking joking? I’ve just paid for this drink; I’m not leaving!”

Once again, you weren’t sure logic was in control of your body anymore as you did something so out of character it shocked even Ari. Reaching over the bar, you grabbed the drink and poured it over the guy's head before pointing at the door once more, “You don’t have a drink anymore. I’m not asking again. Get the fuck out of his bar, NOW. You don’t talk about the boss like that”. 

It was a rare day when you truly lost your temper, so the entire bar had quietened by this point and stared in anticipation. Thankfully, even though the guy looked ready to throw his chair at your head, he instead turned and stumbled out of the doors.

As the atmosphere began to return to normal, the realisation of what you’d just done came to you. Your fingers began to tremble as anxiety sat heavy in your stomach as you tried to take a deep, steadying breath.

That burning, warm palm returned to your lower back as Ari dipped his head to whisper into your ear, “My office, now.” Trying to ignore everyone else's stares, you moved past him as he nodded to the other bar staff to cover your area of the bar whilst he followed you out.

You walk, anger still prevalent even with the anxiety worsening as you realise that you’d technically assaulted one of the customers by throwing his drink at him. What if you get reported? What if Ari thinks you’ve gone too far?

You’re nervously chewing on your thumb when you reach his office at the back of the building. You looked around at the scarcely decorated room with a desk, two chairs and closed blinds so that it was only just illuminated by streaks of sunlight but nothing else, so it was dimly lit. Ari hardly ever used this room, which is why you knew you were in trouble, especially needing a private space to reprimand you so no one could hear if he wanted to shout.

Walking into the centre of the room, you jumped on the spot, turning towards the door that had just been slammed closed by your boss. He stalked towards you, head tilted low as he backed you into a wall like in the cellar.

“I’m so fucking done”, Ari seethed, a vein bulging in his temple and tense muscles lining his arms and shoulders.

You were initially unsure what to say, your lower lip trembling as the anger seeped away, and only the nerves remained. “I’m sorry, Ari, I shouldn’t have thrown the drink at him. I don’t know what I was thinking”.

You had lost confidence and lowered your face to look at the carpeted floor, but Ari was quick to grip your chin in his thumb and forefinger and tilt your face so you were looking back into his bearded face. His voice was low and steady as he spoke, “I am so fucking done with this bullshit cat-and-mouse game we have going on”.

This caught you off guard as you blinked away the anxiety, asking, “What?”

Ari dipped his face even lower, and you took a moment to appreciate how big he was and how much lower he had to make himself so that you were face to face. With him this close, you could smell the aftershave he’d sprayed onto his neck this morning, smelling spicy and had your mouth drooling.

“I’m your boss”, Ari interrupted your dirty thoughts, “It’s unprofessional the things that I dream about, but you make it so fucking difficult to remain your boss when you’re smiling all the time. I want to kiss that smile away so you can return to work and stop distracting me. But today, seeing you there shouting at that asshole for me. I can’t stay professional much longer, so here’s your chance. Leave and walk out that door right now, and we’ll never talk about this again, but if you stay”, his eyes lowered from your lips to assess your body in the darkness. “If you stay, I promise you there will be no other thoughts than my name coming out of your pretty little mouth”.

Ari gave you a moment to contemplate and decide. You, however, were not thinking at all, your mind was empty, and the only response was the warming of your cunt, clenching already around nothing as you knew there was no way you were leaving.

Your arms wrapped around his neck before any of your anxiety returned, pulling him down for a heated kiss. Mouths moving with need against the other, causing Ari to moan; actually, MOAN into your mouth as his lips instantly parted and warm tongue brushed against yours. His arms were around your waist, pulling you as close as possible until your breasts were squished against his firm chest.

It felt like your boss was completely surrounding you as his arms expanded over the area of your back, just as firm as his chest, and you could feel the muscles bulging beneath his plaid shirt. Your feet were suddenly off the floor as he lifted you into his arms, your legs securely wrapping around his waist as one of his arms rested beneath your arse as your back connected with the wall again.

He tasted so good, even though it mainly tasted of the beer he’d been drinking; you’ve fantasised about this moment for months. He was just as dominant as you’d predicted, his mouth forcing yours more open to caress his tongue further into your face, almost like he couldn’t reach far enough within and needed to feel every crevice. The hand that wasn’t supporting your weight then moved to your cheek, his long fingers stretching so far they wrapped around the back of your head as he tilted your head slightly to once again attempt to deepen the kiss.

Ari’s jean-covered hips then ground against yours, stoking the fire inside your cunt more. His actions were desperate, wanting to feel every single part of you. It was almost overstimulating to your senses because all you’d managed to do was keep up with the pace of his tongue and lips and stroke your fingers through his hair just as you wanted to do. But Ari, he was all over you, his mouth now exploring your throat, sucking and biting on the areas that made you moan more and send tingles between your thighs.

The sound of clothes ripping then echoed around the office as Ari had become frustrated with the amount of clothes you wore that was stopping his exploration. Your shirt disappeared with a single tear down the middle and then disintegrated onto the floor. Once again, he was showing off his strength, and you really didn’t care, completely and utterly, at this disposal, especially when his mouth was now sucking on your left nipple.

He lapped against the sensitive bud with his tongue flat, then sucked it into his mouth, a tight seal forming with his lips before gently biting with his sharp teeth, causing your back to arch and fingers to grip more firmly into his locks. Ari moved to the other breasts as his fingers then replaced his tongue with the wet breast, pinching and pulling until you were begging for him to touch you there.

Your mewls were not stifled at all, head tipped back and mouth wide open; nothing was filtering your volume, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you were thankful that the bar was so busy that the music and talking would hopefully cover your moans of joy.

“Ari! Please give me more!” Pulling on his slightly damp hair from the sweat, you forced his face away from your breasts so that you could devour his mouth. His hips thrust harder into yours, and even though you were both still clothed, you could feel the hardness waiting for you in his tented jeans.

Tugging on his bottom lip with your teeth,  Ari groaned and asked, “Tell me you want this, one last chance to change your mind”.

“I need this, Ari, don’t stop”.

Your back left the comfort of the wall as he began to carry you over to his desk, holding you up with one arm. The other wiped any objects onto the floor, giving him the area to lie across.

The wooden surface was cool and welcoming as he again started kissing you, both hands cupping your jaw, holding you firmly in place. Lower he moved, down your throat, collar bones and breasts. As he licked over your stomach, he finally reached to undo your jean button. As he kissed lower, he pulled the material down with him, and only when you felt startling bare did you realise that your underwear had been removed as well.

Sitting up onto your elbows, you silky commented, “You’re wearing too many clothes”. You’d wanted to explore his body with your mouth, but he was just so tall and muscular that you weren’t able to reach him even if you sat up entirely on the desk, so with a rush, you pulled on his shirt, attempting to help remove it from his body and then the same with his jeans. You noticed how his muscles were defined as they became revealed; his abs, covered in a sprinkling of hair, had your mouth watering to touch and lick, but you became distracted by what was between his legs.

Ari Levinson was fucking huge. It was definitely the most enormous cock you’d ever been with, and it shouldn’t have surprised you, but it did. His shaft was thick, and a few veins bulged like he had in his temple when mad. The tip was bulbous, glistening in precum and a deeper shade of red than the rest of his cock. Even his balls that rested beneath his length seemed more prominent than usual, and for a fleeting moment, you contemplated if it was even going to fit.

Seemingly reading your mind, Ari grasped the base of his cock that seemed to throb as your eyes moved up and down it, “Don’t worry, Princess, it’ll fit”.

Looking up at him through your lashes, you wanted to tease him a little, so you leaned forward to kiss the tip, your lips becoming salty from his juices. As you licked up the taste, Ari hissed in a breath and pushed against your chest until you were lying lengthways against the desk once more.

As he had been before, Ari manhandled you with ease, lifting one of your legs until it rested on your shoulder. You thought he was going to start fucking you straight away; however, he was just giving his hand a better position. Whilst keeping his eyes on yours, Ari spits a glob directly onto your already-soaked pussy, collecting it with his index finger before pushing it into your cunt. Your back arched into the touch; even his fingers felt thick and made you feel full. He twirled his digit, doing this mostly to stretch and pleasure you. That could be for another time, but right now, he needed to fuck you but respectfully not hurt you either.

One finger turned into two as he added his middle digit, scissoring them both, which made your hole squelch from all of the liquids. One more finger was added, and you felt fuller than ever before. The entrance to your pussy burned slightly from having three of his fingers coaxing you wider, in and out slowly, whilst turning and opening your hole. Your thighs were trembling from the stimulation already, breaths hot and heavy as you gripped the edge of the desk above your head.

How did you even end up in this situation with your boss in his office, customers and staff just outside the door as his fingers pumped into you with expert ease to attempt to fit his cock.

Your leg dropped from his shoulder, but only so he could wrap them both around his waist as he moved closer, a hand next to your head whilst the other gripped the base of his cock as you realised he was finally, at long last, lining up with your throbbing cunt. Reaching you, your fingers dig into his shoulders, gripping him like you’d always dreamed of as his tip slotted to your entrance.

Slowly, he began to push in, and your cries turned desperate. It burned more than the three fingers; his cock was so girthy and thick that you had to concentrate on taking deep breaths to remain relaxed. Inch after inch, he pushed in, and even though the burn didn’t fade immediately, you already loved the sensation of it. It was intense but something only he could provide for you, and with time, your body adjusted, and soon you were trying to rock your hips. Even though he wasn’t even fully penetrated, his tip was pushing into your cervix.

“Ari, you’re so fucking big, Jesus Christ!” your mouth dropped open as high-pitched cries filled the thick, pleasured air.

For one beautiful second, Ari actually chuckled at your desperate reactions, wanting to stay in that moment forever, seeing you laid out beneath him like his own personal platter.

As your warm, gummy walls clenched around his cock did he snap out of his admiration. Still being careful, he moved in and out slowly and held onto your waist tightly to keep you from sliding down the desk with how tightly your cunt was hugging his cock.

Eventually, you became used to it a bit more, which meant that you began to beg for it harder, needing to feel him closer, so he dropped himself down until his lips were next to your ear and his hand around your throat to hold you still.

“You’re mine, do you understand that?” he growled with a promise never to let you go.

That beautiful grin he loved so much was suddenly beaming up at him, your fingers moving to grip the wrist that was golding your throat as you declared, “I’m all yours, Ari Levinson”.

“Fuck, I love that smile”, he admits between thrusts, his eyes unblinking so that he didn’t miss a single twitch of your face as it flooded with pleasure. However, his need to taste you took over once more as he kissed you deeply, groaning and squeezing your throat a little harder but not enough to cut off your air.

The wetness of your pussy leaked over your thighs as his desk wobbled with each thrust. Your entire body felt like it was on fire which all resonated down to your core, feeling it tighten to match the hardening in your gummy walls, suffocating his cock further in its harsh grip. 

“So big, you’re so damn big, Ari, fuck I’m going to cum”, you shouted, pulling on his hair to snap his head back so that you could breathe and shout out between thrusts. He leaned up on his arm to watch your reactions again, from the furrowed eyebrows, eyes wide and pupils blown, the swollen lips that were forming the perfect O shape as you finally came.

Your cunt had been stretched so wide that when you came, you could feel it more in your abdomen than the contractions that usually fluttered through your walls.  The orgasm, therefore, lasted longer because you were overstimulated and confused with the sensation. Still, even though you couldn’t necessarily feel how your pussy squeezed, Ari sure could as he cursed loudly, releasing your neck to slam his hand on the desk as he unexpectedly pulled out just as he began to cum.

Looking between your bodies, you watched in amazement as thick spurts of his seed shot out the end of his cock and coated your stomach. With his cock now resting over your body as he shouted through his orgasm, you could see that if he had been able to fit his entire cock inside of you, it would have reached your navel. It was that big.

As both of your moans quiet to just heavy breathing, your head dropped back onto the desk, arms and legs having no more energy, also collapsed to your side. Thankfully, Ari could see the exhaustion you were experiencing, and once he’d calmed down enough, he found a box of tissues on the floor and gently wiped away the mess he’d created on your stomach.

Peaking open an eye, you looked down your body towards where your boss knelt, “I hope you aren’t expecting me to go back to work.” your voice was thick and croaky as you smiled down at him. His blue eyes flicked up to your tired face as he raised a single eyebrow, midwipe, so you continued, “I don’t think I can walk, and you’ve ripped my shirt”.

Ari smirked, standing up again to throw the tissue into the bin. He looked your body up and down, “You know, you could just wear my shirt”.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure that’ll go down well with everyone like it wasn’t already obvious that we’ve come in here for a quick fuck”.

His body leans forward, hovering over yours, all bulging muscles and hulking size making you feel small again as he confidently states, “Well, they better get used to it. You’re mine, remember?”.

[splatashahowlett]

Love your writing! Would you be willing to do one where you comfort Logan from a nightmare?

birds of a feather (we should stick together)

logan howlett x reader

your eyelids felt heavy and your body benumbed but you still couldn't sleep. you were laying on your back, staring at the open window. the cold breeze coming from the latter made your body shiver, but you loved being able to hear the sounds of the night; it kind off rocked you to bed, it was your personal lullaby. you were aware of every sounds around you. it felt as if you were in a camus novel.

your head immediatly turned to look next to you when you felt the sheets shuffling on your bare legs. was logan awake? his eyes were still closed but he was slightly moving.

you knew all about logan's nightmares. it had been years now since you two had gotten together and he told you about his night crisis within the first two months; he couldn't hide it from you anyway. so you were expecting it almost everynight and you would be lying if you said it wasn't one of the reasons you couldn't really sleep. you hated the idea of him waking up after a nightmare and having no one to talk to, no one to lean on.

you delicatly placed your head on his chest, knowing the weight of it brought him a sense of comfort and security. his hand automatically went to your hair. he was so used to the gesture that he would do it while alseep. he would always reach out for you, findind a way to always make contact with your skin; he would groan unconsiouscly when you were too far away (according to him) and pull you to his chest without any words said. you would laugh and shake your head each time, amused but grateful that he could find peace in holding you.

you were slowly falling alseep, your eyes closing on their own, when logan started to move around franticly. you lifted your head, and analysed logan.

nightmare.

you started by sitting up in the bed and making sure that you were nowhere near logan's fists. you weren't scared of him or his claws, but if he were to hurt you he would never forgive himself. he mostly would never sleep next to you again and you would find yourself in the incapacity of helping him facing his nocturnal terrors.

you tried to wake him up by grabbing his head gently and stroking your thumbs against his cheeks. you were whispering sweet words, trying to get him to understand that this was all a dream. but of course it didn't work.

your voice started to get louder, you almost couldn't hear yourself over his unrelentless grunting. you were calling out his name.

"logan honey"

"logan!"

"logan, you need to wake up"

"this is all just a dream"

...

"LOGAN"

his silhouette went flying forward, his claws unleashing, piercing through some pillows. logan was breathing heavily and his stare could scare the bravest knight away. but you weren't anyone, you were his lover.

your hand went to his shoulder, trying to get him to come back to reality. he turned around. his gaze immediatly softened when he saw you. you knew talking wouldn't get you anywhere, he would still feel guilty and monstruous. so you just smiled.

you looked at each other for a little while, no words exchanged. you tugged on his shoulder, inviting him to lay back down. he resisted.

like everytime, you were about to ask him if he wanted to talk about it, but he beat you to it.

"stryker" he groaned.

your other hand went to his left shoulder and travelled down to his chest. you wrapped your arms around his neck. your chest was pressed into his back and your head was hidden in his neck. you hugged him tightly, not planning on letting him go anytime soon.

he retracted his claws and his fingers enveloped around your forearms, returning the affection.

"are you hurt?" he asked, almost inaudibly. afraid of your answer.

"seeing you like this doesn't leave me impartial" you answered into his neck. he sighed and turned his head to look at you, you lifted your gaze to his eyes. the look he bore broke your heart; you wished you could take all his worries away.

"come here pretty boy" you reached out for him. he dived into your arms and wrapped his own around your waist. he almost tackled you with his enthusiasm. your chin was planted on his head, muttering reassuring promises while stroking his hair.

"there wasn't anything pretty about what just happened" he retorted after a while. you closed your eyes, pained at his words. you hated when he bathed his self-loathing so much. you let go of him and grabbed one of the pillow he pierced earlier. you raised it above your heads and looked at logan, who was visibly confused. your fingers teared down the pillow with the help of the holes logan had created. hundreds of feathers fell down. the breeze of the window made them fly around, in spirals. some would land in your hair, others on the bed or on your lap. you were grinning widely, the spectacular sight filling your heart with happiness. feathers were invading the room. when some got stuck into logan's hair you laughed wholeheartedly. this caused logan to smile in return.

"looks pretty to me" you stared into his eyes. he brushed your cheek and kissed you softly.

"none of this is your fault logan, you should never apologize for what they did to you. your wounds are legitimate and you have the right to be afraid. you are far from being the monster they wanted you to be; you are the wolverine, an x-men. you are the love of my life. don't be ashamed of being bruised"

"I could've hurt you."

"but you didn't, you never did. you've always protected me and kept me from harm's way. I am proud of you, I want you to know that." you kissed his forehead.

"I love you" he whispered.

"I love you most" you teased with a big smile. logan looked at you with a cheeky grin and lunged at you, pinning you down against the mattress.

"that's just not possible. there is no love greater than the one I have for you" he replied, tickling you feverishly. you were pretty sure the whole floor could hear you laugh.

as always, you both fell asleep in each other's arms. comforted in the idea that the both of you will never be alone again.

no matter how much pillows were to be destroyed.

[lipglossanon]

22 December

Moaner!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, pervert Leon, stalker Leon, obscene phone calls, name calling, degradation, masturbation

Black Christmas (1974) homage 💜

not proofread

You wave the cigarette smoke away from your face. Brittany giggles and blows another puff your way, sending your irritation spiking as you stand up from the sofa. 

“You’re such a child,” you sneer at her. “I hope you get cancer.”

“Hey!” She frowns at you, bubbly laughter dropping off. “What a shitty thing to say to someone.”

“But you’re not someone,” you smile sweetly. “You’re just a dumb bitch.”

Before Brittany can move from the couch, the den mother steps in with a haggard face. She’s nearing her 50’s and her days of putting up with hormonal young women are drawing to a close. 

“Now you two, be nice,” she chides, tired eyes moving between you both. “Brittany go pack. Your dad called a few minutes ago saying he’s on his way to pick you up for the airport.”

She stands from the sofa, running a hand through her box blonde hair. “Thank you, Miss Margaret. It’ll be nice to spend the holidays with family, something not all of us have.”

She grins, a nasty showing of her bleached teeth, “Have a lovely holiday, sister.”

“Hope your plane explodes on take off,” you shoot back, listening as Miss Margaret sighs in defeat—both of you watching Brittany disappear around the corner. 

“I wish you girls wouldn’t fight like that. It’s so unbecoming,” she pats her pockets, pulling out a peppermint candy, wrapper crinkling when she opens it.

“Well, if she wouldn’t have screwed me over with that Professor, then I wouldn’t have any issues with her.”

Patting your arm, the den mother makes her way back out of the room. “I know, dear. But thankfully, you’ll have a break from her over the holidays.”

Standing next to the tree in the empty living room, you pinch the bridge of your nose, willing yourself not to get a headache. The shrill ring of the landline cuts into your thoughts like a dull knife. Blowing out a breath, you walk into the foyer and pick up the corded receiver. 

“Hello, Alpha Beta Theta house.”

Loud breathing comes over the line, like they’ve just finished running a marathon. 

“Hello?”

A shuddering groan fills your ear along with a wet squelching noise, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

“Is—is anyone there?” You clear your throat. 

“Unh, unh,” a masculine voice finally makes a more pronounced noise. “Mmm.”

“You know prank calls can get you in a lot of trouble,” you twist the cord in your fingers, nerves beginning to get the best of you.

A raspy laugh before he speaks. “Bet you have a tight piggy cunt. Little miss uptight bitch.”

Fear and anger burn hot in your chest. “Did Brittany put you up to this? Well, fuck her and fuck you too, you fucking loser.”

You slam the phone down onto the cradle. Clenching your fists at your sides, you want to scream. You want to kick and slap and hit and gouge and—

The shrill ring of the phone has you baring your teeth at it like a feral dog. Snatching it up on the second trill, you bring the receiver up to your face.

“Alpha Beta Theta.”

The words are pulled from your mouth like rotten teeth. 

“Don’t hang up on me again, you cunting whore.” The man hisses at you. “I’ll rape all of your holes and then make more to stuff my cock into.”

Sweat beads on the back of your neck along with your palms and under your armpits. 

“W-who are you?”

He laughs again. “No one. Now stay on the line.”

The wet sound from earlier picks up, only this time it’s louder. He grunts and you suddenly realize what he’s doing. 

Schlick, schlick, schlick. 

It’s insane and disgusting—

and yet—

You clench your thighs, clit achy while you listen to this pervert jerk off. He curses under his breath and it makes your nipples stiffen. Gripping the phone in your hand so tightly the plastic creaks, you breathe in shakily. He must hear it cause his noises pick up speed, the wet slide of what has to be his fist around his cock grows louder still. 

“Wanna stick my face in your fat piggy cunt, lick those pretty piggy lips and suck on your juicy piggy clit.”

Instead of disgust, arousal pools hot and heavy in your core, panties sticking to your wet pussy. He groans brokenly, words bitten off as you listen to him cum on the other side of the call. Your hand begins to cramp from the grip you have on the receiver, making you swap over to the other ear.

Breathing heavily for a few moments, he sighs out a hum. 

“Merry Christmas, cunt.”

Those are his last words as the dial tone blares to life. You sit the phone down and shakily walk back into the living room. Pussy empty and aching, you sink down on the couch cushions. 

“Who was that, dearie?” 

Miss Margaret stands on the other side of the room in the doorway leading to the kitchen. 

“Uh, no one,” you repeat the pervert's answer. “Just a wrong number.” 

“Oh, okay.”

She heads back into the kitchen, leaving you alone with your messy thighs and turbulent thoughts.

[dovesdreaming]

hiii!!!! I saw you wanted requests for descendants so here I am!!! I was wondering if you're willing to write plus sized reader? if not, could you write Harry Hook with someone who's insecure about their body? no pressure! thanks!!

Harry hook x insecure!reader

Hi I really hope I did this request justice and that people can take comfort from it! I hope I portrayed his character right and that you can enjoy it <3 I may rewrite this in the future and go further into the issues but I kept this quite light for now

Not edited yet please ignore any errors

Warnings: talk of body issues

When he notices you he falls immediately. Asks anyone close by if he knows you’re taken and angrily scoffs if people just shrug him off. Once he got his answer that you were single he made his aim to win you over.

-Harry is quite a flirty person by nature but when it comes to you he ranks it up ten fold. Near enough every sentence that’s directed to you has at least a flirty undertone.

-Would make it known to everyone that he wanted you and when you finally agreed to be his he couldn’t be happier.

-Once your in a relationship with each other things progress to a deeper level yet he still flirts with you because he loves making you flustered

-What he doesn’t expect to find out about you though is that your insecure about things he’d never put much thought into before. He thought it was astonishing that you were insecure about little lines in your skin you called stretch marks and something you called cellulite. When Harry looked at you he never saw these insecurities that you called ugly, he only saw someone who was perfect and beautiful. He saw the person he loved. Now that he knew you didn’t like these little things about yourself he always made an effort to show you he loved them. He kissed the places you hated and always told you how beautiful you were making sure to look deep into your eyes when he says it to make his message clear, he wouldn’t allow any buts. He also loved to rub his hook over the places you felt insecure about because he knew how much you loved the hook from how much you stared at it.

-When you were having a rough day he was gentle with you and did everything he could to show you how much he loved you and how your insecurities were meaningless.

-Would not listen or take no for an answer if he wanted to pick you up. Would shush any of your claims that you’re too big or heavy to pick up. He was strong he could carry you and would love to.

-If he ever saw you looking in the mirror with a deflated look he would immediately sweep you off your feet. Bending you backwards with a hand supporting your back while he whispered sweet nothings and compliments in your ears with his pirate accent.

-Would try to be as comforting as possible but would be hard to begin with for him as he wasn’t raised in an environment like that.

-If anyone ever made comments on your insecurities they would be done for as Harry would step in front of you protectively while staring down at the person in question. He looms over them while playing with his hook, daring them to say another word about you.

-Harry wouldn’t rest until you loved those parts of yourself and would make you say positive things about yourself daily.

-You would help him with any of his insecurities as well, as I can imagine he can get insecure about not fitting in, in Auradon.

Thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed <3

[koolades-world]

How the brother deal with jealousy and a pushy suitor

Lucifer

he knows you would never go behind his back with the lowly demons who grovel at your feet but he can’t help it

for a while, he hangs back and observes, since he knows you’ll get rid of them eventually

but it’s just a matter of how quickly, and I’d that’s too long for his liking

eventually he just comes up behind you, and standing menacingly which usually scares the shit out of whatever poor soul happens to be speaking to you

once they disappear you either lightly scold him for chasing off a friend or playfully roll your eyes at his antics

Mammon

he is loud and proud about the two of you being an item so he makes sure everyone knows

holding hands, matching outfits, the whole nine yards you get it

anyone brave enough to approach you while he’s attached to your hip is probably a friend, who you don’t let him chase away

everyone else, however, he won’t hesitate to question and subtly tell them to leave before he makes them

he’s usually super smug afterwards but denies everything if you ask

Levi

mans is literally the avatar of envy, even the littlest things could trigger a flair up

if your out in public together, especially since he’s shy, will remain glued to your side since you’re the social one

he won’t utter a word unless provoke or if it’s for you, meaning he suddenly gets strangely confident in the face of pushy, unwanted suitors

he might even go as far as to lightly shove them before dragging you away

once he realizes what he just did, he begins to profusely apologize and freak out, so be sure to reassure him with kisses <3

Satan

oh lord anyone who sees you anywhere near him understands fully to leave you two alone if they know what’s good for them

but sometimes, he might leave to fetch your drinks or napkins if you’re at a coffee shop, or quickly go pay if it’s a bookstore, leaving a window of town without him

the lone, stupid soul who dared to approach you will be in for a world of pain in a variety of ways, including physical, psychological, and social

but in the moment, he seems deceptively calm and will be polite in asking them to leave you alone

once you’re both home and you part ways, he finds out who exactly that was and plots how to ruin their everything

Asmo

he's very upfront about it, considering he knows the both of you are such a power couple and there are bound to be fans or otherwise

he's no stranger to signing autographs so he might be sidetracked for a minute or two depending on how many he has to sign

if he turns back and sees someone getting a little too close for his liking, he won't hesitate to insert himself into the conversation and tell them to shoo

he questions you afterwards to make sure you're ok and will apologized if that's not what you wanted, regardless of what he thought

he buys you a treat afterwards <3

Beel

another brother other demons don't dare to approach, but now that you've been in his life, others have kind of seem that as him softening

just because he's not willing to take care of someone in front of you doesn't mean he won't at all

if someone approaches the two of you, he usually let you handle it but watches carefully to try and find the intentions of who's talking to you. people don't give him enough credit for being observant imo

he only acts if he's 100% sure they're up to no good unless they give him a clue before hand. your safety is always first so he usually just politely ushers them off unless they give him a reason not to

a sweet boy <33

Belphie

he's the most direct and will literally tell someone he doesn't like them or tell them to go away in a not so nice way

he follows you around like a shadow if you're not holding him by his arm so that alone probably scares off people

for the most part, you tell him to cool off or tone it back, but when you don't he knows there's probably a reason

that person will be seeing him every night while they sleep until he deems their lesson learned

and what he does during that time? he would never tell you

[anxiousnerdwritings]

How did Ra or Talia react to Damian's feelings? (Ra is ready to raise a new generation of child murderers. God, the old man is ready to become a great-grandfather and lock the reader in a golden cage for Damian when he understands all the advantages.: 1. More heirs 2. Damian is at home because Bruce doesn't approve of incest)

Ra’s would be oddly supportive, weary but supportive all the same. Sure there’s underlying advantages to all of this, at least Ra’s can find some, but his main thing is having Twin!Reader home. He’s missed them dearly and knowing everything they’ve gone through and what they’ve been put through by so many, Ra’s would just have the most relief knowing that his beloved grandchild was back home with him. And if it gets Damian to come back too and take his place as heir then Ra’s couldn’t be more content. Although he’d be much happier if Twin!Reader were to become Head of the Demon like he always wanted but after everything they’ve gone through they need much needed rest and time to just be.

Then again depending on Twin!Reader in this situation, I could see Ra’s being all the more protective of them and not allowing Damian anything to do with them. Let alone anyone else for that matter. I could just imagine Twin!Reader being so broken in so many ways that they’re basically catatonic at this point and Ra’s isn’t going to allow for anyone to try and take even more advantage of them than what’s already been taken. Even if Damian were more than willing to give everything up for his sibling and take the title of being Head of the Demon, Ra’s wouldn’t accept it. How could he possibly trust Damian with his sibling after everything, after Damian himself had part in the breaking of his own twin. If, and big if, Ra’s were to allow Damian back he would need to prove himself greatly before Ra’s even considered allowing him anywhere near Twin!Reader again. And any interactions that are granted would definitely be supervised until Damian had fully gained Ra’s trust again and more.

When it comes to Bruce, in any other case, he wouldn’t be accepting let alone tolerating of anything remotely close to this when it came to any of his kids (let alone his literal biological kids) but I imagine him being pretty warped in his own obsession for Damian’s Twin!Reader. Especially as time goes on and things only get worse. He completely and utterly feels like he failed them and even though he would still very much so continue failing them now, I honestly think Bruce would be supportive of Damian’s feelings for his sibling. He doesn’t want to lose either of his kids again, he wants to finally bring the Reader home and take care of them like he should have been doing all this time to begin with. Bruce has his own making up he needs to do, his own making amends when it comes to Twin!Reader and in some fucked up way he thinks that’s what will come out of this. I don’t want to say Bruce would be all for this and fully accepting of it but he is more tolerating than anything else. He knows deep down that this is in no way, shape, or form acceptable whatsoever and it’s fucked up beyond belief but he also knows that Damian would go off on his own for his twin and knowing just how much Damian is barely holding on to his own sanity at this point that worries Bruce more than anything. At least this way Bruce is able to oversee everything, trying to keep Damian in check and not only him but the rest of the batfamily being there to intervene if need be, but either way it comes at a cost and that cost is Twin!Reader. And Bruce knows that, he knows that it makes him even more terrible than he already was.

In another, much more preferable scenario Bruce wouldn’t tolerate any of this whatsoever and would shut it down as soon as it reared its ugly head. His main priority is bringing home the Reader, taking care of them and trying to salvage what he can to give them some semblance of a life they never had, a life they more than deserve. And for a time Damian would push down his feelings once more but at this point it’s too late and he’s just about bursting at the seams. Maybe he can hold on long enough to finally bring his twin home and play the role of the brother he should have been until he inevitably can’t contain himself anymore. And you can bet Bruce is watching every step of the way, observing and planning how he’ll need to deal with this situation before it even begins. Inevitably Damian will feel pushed out and run to Ra’s who will take him in even if it only meant getting Twin!Reader back home to him. In this scenario Bruce would do everything in his power to do right by Twin!Reader, he’s failed them so much already he vows to never do so again. And he won’t. As much as it hurts him, Bruce would fight Damian and Ra’s as many times over as he has to to protect his other child. Bruce would most likely plan ahead for Damian’s inevitable plan to flee though and keep him contained, probably in the batcave until he could be trusted to be moved back into the manor. I could imagine Twin!Reader finding some sympathy in the situation for Damian, he’s still their brother after all and the time they got to have with him as their brother before he went off the deep end, even if it wasn’t entirely real and hid his true intentions, meant a lot to them. That’s all they ever wanted after all. While Damian is in containment it wouldn’t be too hard to believe that Twin!Reader would visit him, spending time with him. But they’re only doing so for their brother and wanting to help him get better, meanwhile Damian is downward spiraling even more now. His feelings only getting worse. I could see an older Damian being able to pull himself together much better than he would have before, being able to deceive Bruce and the other batfamily members into either letting him out or allowing him out of containment and into just being grounded now in the manor. Maybe Bruce sees through Damian’s deception but so long as Damian doesn’t act on his feelings, Bruce can allow him to be with Twin!Reader. Solely as a brother.

I don’t quite have thoughts about Talia in this situation yet, at least not too many thoughts. I’d like to imagine her actually trying to be a good mother in this situation for Twin!Reader and trying to protect them from Damian’s depraved feelings and both Ra’s and Bruce’s enabling (if that’s the scenario we’re going with). And just her overall trying to help her child get away, maybe even seeking refuge with Diana taking the Reader away to Themyscira or Talia herself going on the run with the child she had so loathed long before but now is desperately trying to protect.