#obey me what ifs

[astaroth1357]

So. As something of a connoisseur of depictions of the 7 Deadly Sins in media, I was just mulling over FMAB and thought, “I don’t know if anyone as crossed this over with OM before, but that would actually be kinda fire though.”

Like, imagine each of the brothers with the destructive powers of their respective Homunculi.

~♡♡♡~

Lucifer coming off as the most normal at first, until MC catches how his shadow bends and curves to avoid harsh light. They swear they sometimes hear him chuckling in the dark corners of the House, but they never actually find him anything there when they check. Red eyes reveal themselves in unlit rooms and follow them through the halls, all the while they keep wondering how he always seems to know where they are whenever he's away…

Mammon hardening his skin to be tougher than diamond, then using it to reinforce his claws and smoothly cut a perfect circle into glass display case. Him letting himself get punched when things don’t matter, but instantly hardening his cheek to break the assailant's hand whenever he starts getting serious. Or literally using his body to protect MC from harm as their first man and loyal shield.

Leviathan having a MASSIVE aquatic beast form that he shoves into a normal sized body, making him feel even more distant to others. Using transformations to regularly make himself look like his favorite anime characters/idols since he can’t stand the thought of looking at his true form. Yet, he still has that conservation of mass going, so he can simultaneously look like a 12 year-old girl and kick a car down the street like a soccerball.

Satan using his gifted sight to become an absolute force of nature. Not just a mere brute, but a sophisticated and effective killing machine with the wit and reflexes to mow down entire armies before breaking a sweat. Never blinded by fury, but harnessing his rage behind every inescapable strike. Him silently vowing that any threat to MC or his family will barely get to finish a thought before he's cut them down with precision and grace.

Asmodeus mostly using his extending nails for glorious manicures, but not being afraid to pierce the heart or lungs of anyone he doesn’t much like. He hears an incubus talking shit from a few tables down and stabs a hole through the jerk's skull while never looking away from his milkshake. His fights with Mammon getting 1000 times more destructive as his razor sharp claws bounce off his brother's skin and dig into the walls and furniture. The only thing he hates about them are how long it takes to scrub the blood off his nails afterwards.

*silently contemplates the possibility of Beel ripping himself in half to reveal a nightmarish second “stomach” capable of sucking anything into a blood-filled pocket dimension of which there is no light, hope, or escape* … Okay, moving on.

And of course, for those unaware FMAB Sloth could run at like the speed of sound which was threatening because he was also a behemoth. However, Belphie probably weights 125 pounds when wet, so… I admittedly get a giggle at the idea of him giving Lucifer a speed-of-light drop kick from across the House. That is probably all he would use it for, too. Him just getting those horns out and going into ramming speed… What a menace

Bonus: Wonder what kind of alchemist Solomon would be? 🤔

[acronym49]

Obey Me! Characters react to mc being a dragon

(trying my hand at writing headcanons, let me know what you think! Other brothers + dateables are a work in progress)

__Lucifer__

He's not optimistic. His brothers are hard enough as it is, but adding in a new large creature? It'd be better to just keep you down with Cerberus. Maybe he'd enjoy the new playmate.The annoyance turns to intrigue when he learns you have the mind of any other demon (or person, if you will). And you can speak? Strange. This wont make him like you by any means, of anything he will be very distrusting. As you live there, though, he starts getting used to you. He even enjoys your odd antics, and especially the way you can rally in any ensuing chaos (despite how often you cause it).On one or two rare occasions, he'd absently try to pet you on the head when he was in that 'dead tired from paperwork' state. Depending on your reaction, he might do it more. When/if he does end up falling for you, expect to be near him a lot (obviously). There's not so many head-pats, but he likes to have you sit next to him while he's working or reading, sometimes absently stroking you neck or asking your opinion on whatever he's working with. There'll definitely be some teasing as to how catlike you are at times, but he means it lovingly. *he might put a collar on you if you ask-*He wouldn't ever be the type to outright ask to ride on your back, but I have the feeling he'd make subtle hints to it.'Ah, darn, the ride canceled last second. How can we get there now?' Ykyk. He'll turn you down the first time when you ask if he wants to fly with you, but that's just the pride talking for him. He'd love nothing more. After all, one of the most powerful lords of hell swooping in upon a dragon? You two would be an awe-inspiring duo, that's for sure.

__Mammon__

Ugh, he's gotta watch the new student? Lame! Humans are so- what the fuck is that?He dosen't know how to react at first. This is the thing he's looking after? It'll be awkward for the first few days, but as we know, he falls for MC fast. Awkward silence changes to him griping about how you always have to follow him. After the pact, though, he realizes you're not so bad. You tease him a little bit, sure, but he notices how you praise him, too. Just simple compliments, like how he looks good in his shades, how he's so good at math, how he's super fun to be around. It makes him feel better, y'know? Other demons also seem to be a bit less inclined to make fun of him when you're around, especially when you growl at them for being so openly mean. After a little bit of time, you two are basically glued at the hip. Depending on the kind of MC you are, you two could be the ultimate partners in crime or the closest confidants (or both!). There'll never be a boring moment with you two.It wont take him too long to ask to fly on you (probably be one of the first things he asks you tbh- it's like a joy-ride squared)He'd be respectful but mopey if you say no, but if you say yes? That's a happy demon on your hands right there. Be sure to set some boundaries, though, he might not wanna go by car anymore (like when you give a hognose snake a toad and they refuse to go back to pinkies lmfao). He'll try and get you to learn some aerial maneuvers, maybe how to spin or go upside-down (it's harder than it looks). When you two aren't flying or causing chaos together, you're both just hanging out. When he's relaxed, he likes to trace his hand over your smooth skin/scales/feathers/fur. He can't help it, the texture's just so soothing. Don't point it out, though, he'll go BRIGHT red. He likes it when you two watch movies together, or when you browse Devilgram with him over his shoulder. Feel free to nuzzle him and cuddle up, this man loves it. Sometimes he returns the favor, using you as his own sort of couch while he talks with you, sometimes giving you a peck here and there.

__Leviathan__

Oh this man is hyped from the start. A whole-ass dragon? LIVING with him and his brothers? What could be cooler? He has an internal war between wanting to get a good look at you and being really nervous to get too close. That nervousnes amps up when he realizes you can talk. You might think he's a hallucination at first with how fast he darts out of sight the moment you try and look at him. Fortunately, Mammon's debt to him is what spurs your first interaction. After, he's a little bit more ok with being percieved. He plays it cool at first, not wanting to seem too pushy, but he can't help but barrage you with questions when he gets the chance. It's actually quite a fun time, especially if you love infodumping as much as he (and I) does. You ask your own share of questions as well, about the Devildom, about him, about the games and figures he loves. As you two get more relaxed with one another, you both love to sit and chat about each other's hyperfixations. You can't exactly game with him due to your talons (not comfortably, anyways), but he lets you watch over his shoulder while he games. It makes his victories that much sweeter, and any losses a tad more bearable. Sometimes he lets you go on the mic to startle or taunt the other players, just for fun. It's hard to tell exactly when the relationship begins and the friendship ends, it's a smooth transition that neither of you really notice until you're literally cuddled up together, watching Assasination Classroom on his phone at 2am. It takes a surprising while for him to ask to fly with you. You may have to be the one to bring it up, actually. Nervous the whole time, 100%. He may decline, but upon numerous reassurances he'll agree. I think it's like... that test drive scene from httyd. It's so unfamiliar at first, being high up, with the wind blowing so fiercely. After a while, though, something clicks with him. He'll gain that confidence, guiding you (with your permission) where he wants to go. Something about that wild, windswept sensation of being a mile up in the air melts his nerves. It's just you two and the sky. The others are def gonna be jealous about how well you fly together.

(Feel free to tag with your dragon ocs! Sorry for any spelling errors lmao my eyes tend to skip over words sometimes)

[cregansdingdong]

ʀᴇꜱᴛʟᴇꜱꜱ.

Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!reader | no use of y/n | warnings: NSFW, p-in-v penetration, swearing, dirty talk, sofa sex, quickie that became a longie, making-out, dry humping, Jace is desperate and he needs to take his frustrations out somehow, theres a brief pussy slap bc it felt right, cream-pie at the end, fully clothed raw dogging; They’re betrothed and this takes place at the start of the DoD, I didn’t make any other specifications cause they were too busy fucking. This is very heavily inspired by his scene in the season finale :3

Hot stuff under the cut. 18+ only. I'm not responsible for the content you choose to consume. ty.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

He’d been pacing in his chambers for the better part of an hour with only his thoughts as company. Jacaerys felt useless, to say the least. Useless, needlessly coddled, suffocating between the walls of Dragonstone. He wanted to be of help to his Queen, to fight for the realm on dragonback against the Greens as was his destiny. His calling. Instead, he was made to spectate at council meetings and wait endlessly for a moment that would never come, it seemed. The ‘what ifs’ kept him spiraling, uncomfortable in his own mind, and he found his feet moving before he could consider a destination. He knew where to go. It was too easy not to. And she wouldn’t mind. His hesitance sent a bit of doubt down to his stomach on whether or not he really wanted to bother her, but she would’ve figured out his sour mood anyway. It was better to face up to himself than keep it locked away inside. The hastening of his footsteps echoed off the spacious corridors, and as if she had sensed he was on his way to her, the doors to her chambers were left ajar—just enough for him to see her peaceful face trained down on her book.

His knuckles gently tapped against the threshold, announcing his presence as he entered. His betrothed glances up, looking twice as she realizes who her visitor is. “Good morrow.” She hummed, legs tucked up and under her comfortably on the divan. His pretty brown eyes took in her room, a place he found himself in considerably often. Depending on the circumstances, obviously. And the hour. Everything was kept neat and tidied, but he could still see the traces of her, where she’d made a sort of home for herself. Books and tomes stacked three or four each on various surfaces, the tea she’d left nearly untouched on the nightstand. He loved it. “Good morrow.” Jace responded, gently shutting the door behind him, head tilted back against it for a moment, unable to hide the frustration that had grown in his own chambers. He said nothing. Unsurprisingly, the words caught in his throat on the way out.

She pats the spot beside her on the divan, the book not yet closed, but her attention had shifted from the pages to his furrowed brows. He obeys, crossing the room to sit by her without second thought. His mind had quieted, at least. Their shoulders brush together lightly as he finally manages to say something else. “What are you reading?” She could tell already that something was off with him, but still indulges in his question, turning it over to show him the cover. Something vaguely historic, he catches, but he was too distracted by her soft hands clutching the book to see much else. “I figured I’d better read a bit more to catch up with the talk of war. This one isn’t entirely as dull as I thought it was going to be, thankfully.” With that, she closes it shut, putting it down on the stand beside the divan, shifting her body just enough to face him. “How are you faring, Jace?”

“I’m well enough.” He muttered, leaning back slightly. It was a lie and she saw right through him without much else. “I just…my mother is worried. She’s trying to hide it behind orders but it's catching up to us now. All this.” He was gesturing to the war, of course, fingers tapping in his lap anxiously. “And I can’t help her. She won’t let me help. I don’t know what to do. I’d much rather be out there, making a real difference to tip the scales, and instead I’m stuck here at Dragonstone doing nothing but waiting.” His betrothed nodded along as she listened, digesting his admittance before considering her own words. “You’re restless, dragon.” There was a truth to it, despite the statement mostly being a gentle tease. The corners of his lips lift just a little at the nickname. “I can’t help it. I feel antsy knowing I have the capabilities to do something, and I’m not allowed to.”

“We’re still in the beginning of this war—and you’re the heir, Jace. Even if there was a battle taking place just outside of Dragonstone, you and the Queen must stay here.” He’d heard that a thousand times before from his mother and the members of her small council, and a thousand times he felt undignified—but hearing it from the lips of his bride-to-be, there was no malice or taunt or scold behind her tone. She was reminding him of a painful candor. His safety mattered. “I feel powerless.” He admits, frustration accompanying the embarrassment that came with the insecurity. “I feel like a little boy begging to add his opinion during council meetings. They respect me because I’m the Prince of Dragonstone, her son, not because I’m good at my responsibilities. What good am I in this war if I can’t help my mother get her throne back?” The last few words exited his mouth with bite, self-loathing and irritation cutting him like a double-edge sword.

“You’re wrong about that.” She reaches out to take his arm, her hand wrapping around his bicep as she intertwines their fingers with the other. “Your living and breathing is the strongest power of all. You’re strengthening your mother’s claim by doing just that. I know you want to fight, to do something that matters. But true power is not just grandiose displays of strength or victories in battle, it's also purpose. The meanings behind our choices. People are raising the Queen’s banners—and those are your banners too. They want to fight for you as much as they do for her, because the two of you are the rightful heirs to the throne. The Greens can try as they wish to Usurp what belongs to the Queen, but their actions are unjustified. King Viserys made his choice and he stuck to it until his passing. That is power.”

“All this book reading is making you wiser than me.” He grumbled, although there wasn’t any malice behind it. “I’d still rather be swinging a sword at some idiot knight instead of sitting within these walls looking pretty—but I understand that you’re right.” He concedes, a small smile gracing his handsome face. She chuckles at that. “I’m sure you’d be pretty no matter what, even muddied and bloodied on the battlefield.” She sighs though, glancing out at the daylight swarming into the room through the window, hand still nestled in his. The gentle touch sent goosebumps up his neck, tightening his trousers with every second her warmth continued to seep into his leather doublet. “The meeting is likely starting soon.” Her voice interrupts his thoughts of nipping at the supple flesh at her neck.

Jace groaned aloud, head dropping back against the divan in pure annoyance, good mood spoiled at the reminder. “I’d honestly rather get swallowed by dragonfire than sit in that room for the next three hours, listening to those old fools drabble on about who knows what.” He turns his body—not unlike a roll—to shield his face on her shoulder, unwilling to part from her. “I want to stay here with you, alone and in peace as we were.” She snorts lightly as he inhales deeply, arm snaking around her waist in want. “The Queen will be expecting us, my prince.” She looks down at his dark curls, twirling one around her finger. His breeches certainly tighten now. “...My interests are elsewhere.” He murmurs, annoyed at the thought of being pulled away, face inching closer to her neck until his lips press against her smooth skin. “Jace.” She warned, although there wasn’t as much resistance in her tone as he’d expected, and a quiet sigh flows past her lips. “We can’t be late. That’s disrespectful to the council members.”

“The denial of devouring you because of those ancient rats only serves to make me want to go even less.” He shifts in place, head still dipped by her jugular, hands bracing the back of the divan with newfound purpose, trapping her between the corner of it and his own scalding body. She gasps as his teeth sink into her skin, earning a low sound of pleasure from his throat. “We can be quick if the meeting matters to you that much.” He mutters against her, a slight tease as he nips at her harder this time, his nose nudged into her jaw. “I don’t need to wait until nightfall to make you see the stars, my Lady.” Her remaining restraint crumbles at that, hands coming to undo the lacings of his breeches. “..Fine. But you can’t touch my hair.” He seemed like he wanted to protest at the idea of limited touching, but that gleam in her eye meant she was serious, and it was likely they’d miss the meeting as a whole trying to figure out how to braid her hair that way again. “Okay. Deal.”

His mouth returns to her throat, biting and sucking greedily with reverence, his hands finding purchase at her hips to start bunching her skirts up. “Jace..” She exhales, shuddering at the way he was marking her skin—he wasn’t leaving any stones unturned, and they were going to show. Her fingers plucked at the lacings with success, tugging him closer to her now by the waistline of his breeches. His fists clench around the fabric of her gown, a deep grunt echoing from his chest as his clothed cock pressed into her plush inner thigh. “Gods—I need more.” Jace retracts himself from her neck, pulling her body down the divan, just enough to lay her flat on her back. She wraps her thighs around his hips, a strangled moan failing to come out as he kisses her, pushing himself against her core. He rolled his hips down with a fury, nothing deliberate about it—just to feel something, to get out the pent up desperation he’d felt for weeks since his return.

His tongue explores her mouth with an eagerness that made them both flush, using her skirts as purchase to buck himself harder into her cunt. “You make me this way.” He grunts against her lips. His stomach was already tightening with every bit of friction they could get. “Do you understand? You’re just so pretty and you smell divine—fuck.” Jace grits his teeth, biting at her lower lip. She was a panting mess beneath him, unable to do anything other than take it, digging her nails into his shoulders to cope with how good it felt. His weight pinned her down deliciously, hips still incessant and rubbing against her with enough force to make the divan squeak. It was like music to his ears. “I’m already close just feeling your sweet cunt, my love.” Jace pulls up her gown a bit more, almost up to her ribs, to watch the tent in his pants glide up her glistening folds like a man bewitched. “You need to see it–” He grunts, bracing himself on the armrest behind her head, lifting himself just enough to make a space between their bodies. The sight was a wicked one.

“Look at the way you take me.” He urges, voice hoarse this time, eyes meeting hers from above. “Soaked enough to wet my breeches—and I’m not even inside of you yet.” Her nails dig harder into him, a breathless whine at the disbelief of it all. “Please Jace!” She mewls, shivering, and he grins, snapping his hips against hers with reverence. “Please what, my love? Use your words.” His tone was mocking, teasing, and eager to make her squirm. The quiet shuffling of their clothes was driving her to insanity—and she wanted more than anything to pull it all off, but they had places to be very soon. “I need—Gods! I need you, Jace!” He was more than pleased by that, and he somehow carries enough restraint to stop himself from finishing right there. Jacaerys pulls himself back to tug down his breeches down just enough, his cock momentarily springing back to hit his stomach.

She melts at the sight of his tip—red and leaking shiny precum back toward his shaft. He was the perfect size for her; not too big or too small, and pretty just like the rest of him. Jace hisses quietly as the sensitivity hits him, dipping himself between her folds just to savor the moment. “Mmm look at your pretty cunt, my love. So beautiful.” He murmurs, his own thighs trembling as he slides his shaft through your slick. “Thighs up, sweet girl.” Her eyes roll back as his tip presses into her little bud, the motion agonizingly slow, and she nearly hadn't heard him. She braces her thighs to her chest as much as her bunched up gown would allow, gaze locked on Jace's angled face that was furrowed in concentration. She watches, face reddened, as he spits down onto himself, lubricating the way even though it probably wasn't needed with how soaked she was. Suddenly, his palm comes down on her clit, surprising her with equal amounts of pain and pleasure—she nearly came with a meek gasp of his name, inadvertently yanking his hair. “Jace!”

“Sorry. Couldn't help myself.” He grins, lips meeting hers in a sweet peck. “I want you to look at me when I slip it, love—look nowhere else but right here.” As he guides his tip inside, her breath hitches, captivated by the stretch of him and the glossy brown eyes staring down at her, hazed with lust. A growl erupts from his throat, feeling suffocated now by her walls, and he couldn't get enough. Jace wasn't one to swear often in front of his wife-to-be, but the obscenities flew from his mouth like she was his prayer, sinking himself slowly inch-by-inch. Not that his betrothed was in any better condition. She was clawing at him now, whining and squirming uncontrollably at the delectable sting that came with taking Jace. It hurt so good, and she was sure she'd throw a fit if he dared to pull out for whatever reason. Meeting be damned. Seated fully in her hot cunt, Jacaerys grips the back of her right thigh, pacing himself to allow her to adjust first.

They wait in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, no noise in the room other than their soft pants, and a few breathless giggles as Jace shields her eyes from the attacking sunlight. Silently, she cues him to continue. “Good girl.” He murmurs, starting slowly with gentle strokes that make her stomach warm. “Taking me so well, my love.” He hovered over her still, his other hand braced against the armrest as he watched himself disappear inside of her, a shiver rolling down his spine. “So good.” She mewls, leaking around his cock. Jace leans his head down to connect their lips again, tongue darting into her mouth like he owned her, his free hand taking a greedy handful of her breast through the gown. Moans swallowed down between kissing and breathing, the only sounds that could be heard were the chirping birds and the vulgar slapping of skin as the pace quickened. She could only hope no one would come looking for them—or walk down the corridor even. She couldn't recall Jace locking the door behind him. “I'm close—” He grunts, pulling back from her lips to rock his hips with fervor. “I'm so fucking close, love.”

The divan beneath them was far more noisy now than it had been when they were grinding. Jace had half a mind to let the damned thing break, especially with how tight she squeezed around him, sucking up every inch he provided. Outside, the bells of Dragonstone rang, signaling high noon was upon them—Gods, the meeting. “We need to hurry up!” She pants, thigh hooking around him, just as eager to come. “You promised this would be quick!” Irritation bubbles up in his stomach, and Jace gathers her in his arms, fed up with the thought of having to sit through yet another council meeting. “You want me to hurry up?” He grunts, although it came out as a hiss more than anything, his left foot planting firmly on the floor beside the divan. “Fine.” She couldn't make herself regret her demand even if she tried. Jace stood up straight as a board, his sweet girl being gripped by her gown as he fucked up into her with reckless abandon. She couldn't even remember what it felt like to breathe when her release came, senses flooding with pleasure like she'd been numb her entire life. His cock was hitting that spot like a bullseye, not stopping even after she started yanking on his hair from the overstimulation.

“Do you like it when I hurry, love?” He rasped breathlessly by her ear, one arm around her middle now while his right hand cradled the back of her neck. “You certainly like when I take out all my frustrations on your pretty cunt—Gods, I'm coming. I'm fucking coming sweet girl.” Jace chokes, exhaling sharply through his nose as his hips began to stutter, losing his brutal pace. “Can I come inside of you? Please?!” The beg falling from his plush lips sent a thrill down her spine, and she moaned out her agreement even after he asked twice for confirmation. That's all it takes for Jace to press her into the divan again, fucking her hard, fast, and sloppy, his body laying over hers in the desperation of chasing his release. He buries himself against her chest, coming deep within her as a long, drawn out groan escapes him. The relief was instantaneous; anxiety gone, frustration fucked out of him, and only bliss was left behind. Balls deep, he couldn't tell where she began and he ended. Silence. Rapid breaths. Stilled hips, other than an occasional twitch as they reeled from their orgasms. He lifts his face from her chest weakly, a lazy, sated smile gracing his handsome features. “Sweet girl..” He starts. Her eyes flick up to look at him, equally as spent and satisfied. “Mmhm?”

“I think we're late for the council meeting.”

[scarletcomalies]

soul bounds intertwined

Wanda Maximoff x Fem Reader

Part I, Part II

Word count: 5,864

Warnings: Ghosting, public confrontation and fighting, Billy being an idiot. 18+ content, degrading, pet names, magic strap that Wanda can feel as if it's real, blowjob (W. receiving), oral (R. Receiving), strap-on usage (R. receiving), taking Polaroid pictures while doing it, slapping, overstimulation, fingering, squirting aftercare.

Taglist: @alexawynters @ageofolsen @imjustvibingsworld @huggingkoalas @unadulteratedballoonduck @megsheather @kimiisims-blog @morganismspam23 @reginassweetheart @vyvvycg @cindyangelicss @newyork1432 @imaginaryblogger01 @sleepless-cloudy @starryskiesandboys

A/N: This is it. I cannot begin to express how unbelievably happy it makes me to see all the love you gave to this trilogy 🥹 I also had a good laugh as I read the frustrated reblogs on part II MWAHAHA!!! Hope you like this last one part. Thank you 3000 once again. 💓

Following the incidents at the Maximoff residence, you thought that Wanda had completely cut you out of her life. However, a few months later, she reached out to you, pulling you into a situation that would lead to unforeseen twists and turns.

You couldn't recall the last time you ran as if your life depended on it.

Your best guess was when you accidentally set the treadmill to 24 kilometers per hour, and while you were figuring out where the button to slow down was, you had to keep that pace so as not to fall.

However, the adrenaline that coursed through your veins the instant Wanda laid her hands and lips on you for the first time, followed by her command for you to leave, was so inmense that it was no wonder your body mistook it for danger, screaming for you to escape immediately.

And you obeyed, running to your car as if Wanda was chasing you with a knife, determined to snatch your destiny and your future in a matter of seconds, when in reality, she remained static. She didn't move an inch from where she left you, but her gaze haunted you all the way home.

You could still feel it piercing right at the back of your mind, causing this sensation to send unconscious impulses to your body, such as occasionally checking the backseat through the rearview mirror, when you knew there was no one but you in the car.

You scarcely noticed when you arrived at your apartment or when you collapsed onto your bed. Your mind was too tangled in a whirlwind of confusion and shock to be mindful of your own actions.

What did this mean for you and Wanda? Was there any way to turn back from this? Questions raced through your mind, but one fact stood amongst all of those uncertainties: things would never be the same again.

Three long months where your mind pirouetted through endless what-ifs.

What if you had turned down Billy's advances from the start? What if you had been more discreet about taking those photographs? What if you had never blurted out the confession Wanda had forced from you? What if you had stayed, on your knees, begging for her forgiveness, instead of running away as though your feelings were a crime?

Despite your mind's endless wanderings, your thoughts unavoidably drifted back to the same place; her lips on yours, like a forbidden fruit that was worth all of your sinning.

Oh, how intoxicatingly wet they felt, how expertly her tongue and hands managed to cast a spell of desire that tormented your very existense, driving you to a fervor that dangerously danced on the edge of madness.

And so you made Herculean efforts with words, devoting at least two hours each week to finding new ways to let Wanda know that you never intended for this situation to escalate like it did, yet none succeeded reaching to her distant heart.

It was painfully clear that just one response from her could end this torment, yet she played a cruel game of a calculated and well-deserved revenge.

She didn't block you. That would have been a closure, a clear statement she wanted nothing more to do with you. Instead, she left you on read immediately, ensuring there was no doubt she was ignoring you. She left you hanging on a thread of false hope, teasing you with the possibility that maybe, just maybe, it'll be different next time.

Her behavior was akin to that of a prepotent God, relishing in the power to decide whether to answer the prayers of her humble believers or subject them to the agony of her indifference.

It took you long enough to realize you wouldn't have any of it anymore. You dared to test the predictability of her cruel game, refusing to give her power over you any longer.

Fortunately for you, in the third month since you last saw her —from which a month and a half you spent without writing to her— you received a call from her.

You let it go to voicemail twice, so as not to seem too eager to hear from her, and finally called her back the next day.

"Oh, so fast you were answering my calls before, and now you want to play hard?" Was the first thing she said to you.

You rolled your eyes.

How dare she protest for it when she had you drifting and yearning for so long?

"What do you need?" You asked in as neutral a tone as possible. You weren't going to answer in annoyance, or it would mean you were still affected by this whole situation.

"You're going to show up at the meeting Tony Stark organized, at the Avengers Compound, remember it was a pending thing?" It wasn't a request, it was an order. "This time, I'm bringing the boys, and you're going to tell Billy everything. Everything, (Y/N)."

You scoffed, both indignant and surprised. The latter due to the fact that Wanda might not have told Billy about what had happened.

"You never told him yourself?" You inquired, curiosity getting the better of you.

"I don't have the heart to tell him," she replied. "But I suppose you do, since you had the heart to do what you did."

You were going to justify yourself immediately, but stopped midtracks. You weren't going to sound like a broken record, repeating the same old story to her again.

"And if I refuse?" You challenged her.

"I can ruin things for you beyond repair," Wanda responded confidently. "Your career, your reputation, you name it. Don't underestimate what I'm capable of when pushed."

Her words cut through any defiance you might have felt, leaving you defeated and humiliated, just like that night.

Maybe it was abuse of power, but you brought this upon yourself, and she just wanted to make sure you paid for hurting someone she loved. You would have done the same, and you adored her even more for that.

At your silence, she added, "And bring all the photographs you took of me. I don't want to give you the pleasure of having a single trace of me after this."

And that's how you ended up at the Avengers Compound, Upstate New York.

If your nerves weren't consuming your stomach like a potent acid burner, you would have appreciated much more the fresh air outside the building, and how silence finally prevailed in your surroundings, the hectic sounds of the crowded city now long gone.

"Ready?" Kate asked, looking at you with a sheepish, concerned look once she pulled the handbrake.

"Yeah," you replied amidst a deep breath that you didn’t even know for how long you’ve been holding.

While you both stepped out of Kate’s car, the weight of your hand purse almost pulled you back into the seat, knowing that two things in there held the delicate fate of your relationship with Wanda and of your career.

It contained your lipstick, your phone, and all the photographs, along with a letter that would be a last attempt to clear things up.

At the front door, a female voice through a screen asked for your name and Kate's, and once it was given, she replied: "You're on the list. Welcome, (Y/N) and Kate."

You held your hand purse tightly, as you walked to the elevator and Kate pressed the floor's button. The only audible sound on the way upstairs was the click of your heel anxiously tapping against the floor, and your heavy breathing.

"Easy, you find Billy, tell him, 'Hey, I liked your mom all this time, you just were delusional,' give the pictures and letter to Wanda, take my car, and get out," Kate tried to cheer you up, making it sound as simple as she was telling it, when to you, it was a life-or-death feat.

You laughed more out of commitment than anything else.

There was no point in contradicting her words if the elevator opened within two seconds of her finishing her sentence.

You spotted Wanda almost immediately.

She was standing near the entrance, her posture rigid, and her eyes immediately fixed on you with an intensity that could burn a hole right through you and all the walls of the building together. The way she looked at you so quickly revealed that she was watching the elevator every time it opened, waiting for you.

Kate patted you on the back, and headed off to where Yelena would be.

Lucky her, she would spend the night with her girlfriend, while you were anticipating to drown in your own tears before falling asleep, knowing that you had ruined any chance with the first person who had set a warming fire in your heart, now a conflagration of despair and yearning.

With every step you took her way, your legs felt like they might give out beneath you, but you forced yourself to keep moving, closing the distance between you and Wanda.

"Wanda", you greeted her and nodded in acknowledgement of the person she was talking to. You recognized him immediately from the old pictures rummaging online of Wanda and her ex-partner. Despite his imposing figure, he was just a blurry silhouette that you didn't bother to focus on until you had him in front of you. "Nice to meet you, I'm (Y/N).”

"Ah, (Y/N)," he exclaimed with a smile. "I'm Vision, Tommy and Billy's father. I'm pleased you could make it. The boys are over there at the middle table."

"That's a good idea," Wanda said. "Why don't you go with Billy? I'm sure you have a lot to discuss."

You tried to resist rolling your eyes at her sarcastic statement.

"I would prefer to speak with you first," you replied, failing to maintain eye contact with her, still appearing like a nervous lamb.

"I will consider it, after you do what I asked," she replied, turning her attention back to Vision as a way to cut conversation. The latter appeared perplexed, but perhaps Wanda would prefer to avoid the situation or lie about it, which you thanked.

Your steps towards Billy's table felt lighter, which indicated that you were far more concerned about exchanging a simple greeting with Wanda than you were about confessing to Billy that your feelings were for his mother and not him. Once again, it was evident that you cared about her more than you ever did for Billy.

"(Y/N)! Hey!" Billy greeted you with a smile, moving quickly to embrace you. "Oh, I missed you so much. What happened? My mom said you and her had an argument, but never specified why, and always gets pissed off when I ask her."

You reciprocated the embrace, unconsciously offering an apology in advance for what were going to be your next words.

"Hi," you replied, giving him a light touch on the back. “Uhm, that’s true, actually, that’s why I’m—"

"Hi, you," Tommy approached you before you could reply, and offered you a less invasive hug than his brother’s. "You know? I recently saw the infamous Kate Bishop,” he chuckled.

You joined him in laughter, appreciating his presence as a source of comfort. This brief conversation felt like a stop to the train of thought that was threatening to run over you.

"If you would like, I can arrange an introduction," you offered him, shrugging briefly. "Not with that intention, of course, but you would gain a friend. A great one."

"I'm game for new friends, always," he agreed, taking a sip of his beverage. You proceeded to walk with Tommy following you, and you noticed that Billy was completely ignored by both of you, being left behind sitting at the table by himself.

What if, during the lively twenty-minute conversation between you, Tommy, Kate, and Yelena, you had taken just half a minute to ask him to join? Everything would have been different.

"Excuse me," your smile faded and your voice trembled when your gaze fell on Billy. He had the letter in his hands and all the photographs scattered all over the table.

You had left your hand purse on there, and it was inevitable that Billy would be so curious to look through it.

A lump formed in your throat as you watched helplessly as he examined the contents of the letter with increasing astonishment.

Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest when you realized that he had discovered your deepest secret, and you no longer had a chance to find a way to reveal it in the less hurtful way that could ever occur to you. That possibility slipped like sand through your fingers.

You rushed towards the table. Every step you took felt like torture. As if you were running a ten-kilometer marathon instead of crossing a few metres.

“Billy…” you breathed, a whisper so barely audible that you hoped it would vanish in the air before the inevitable storm swept through.

His fingers trembled on the vertical edges of the piece of paper, now mostly crumbled by the force with which he held it.

Billy Maximoff had always lived in the shadow of his mother’s fame and his twin brother's effortless charm. In that dim corner, he was often overlooked.

Therefore, when he saw your letter, where you expressed regret for using Billy to reach his mother, but admitted you felt no remorse for how her lips had kissed yours with such fervor that night after the bonfire, it struck him like a frigid, merciless wave crashing over him, leaving him breathless and reeling.

A guttural, angry growl erupted from his throat, resonating with such intensity that it caught the attention of everyone present, including Wanda.

Subsequently, he threw the photographs all over the floor, scattering them like autumn leaves blown by a tempest.

His eyes, once filled with affection, now burned with betrayal as they landed on you. However, what caused an icy tendril of fear to coil around your stomach was those sacred photographs, completely exposed for others to see.

You took a step to retrieve the photographs, but a firm hand clasped around your arm, making you gasp in protest, but overall, disbelief. His grip was a desperate, silent warning for you to confront the shattered trust before you, instead of safeguarding your own dignity.

"How could you do this to me?" He questioned. He breathed heavily, each choppy exhale escaping through trembling lips. His brows furrowed in anguish, adorned the torment in his glassy eyes.

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. All you could do was stand there, frozen, as now Billy's eyes were just one of the many pairs that fixated on you.

"Answer me!" Billy’s voice echoed through the room.

"I'm so sorry, Billy," you whispered, but the words felt shallow and inadequate.

Wanda's eyes bore into you from across the room, her expression unreadable, yet you knew she was waiting for the fallout.

Billy shook his head, as he laughed sarcastically.

“’Sorry’? Really?” His voice climbed in pitch, raw with fury. “You used me. You lied to me. And for what? To get close to my mom? MY MOM! HOW FUCKING SICK IS THAT?”

You turned around, your gaze sweeping over the room, and the collective shock on everyone’s faces nearly made you crumble right there.

But before you could fully grasp the gravity of their reactions, Billy grabbed your face with a tight grip, and pulled you closer, forcing you to look back at him, demanding your full attention.

“Look at me,” he rasped, his voice breaking with pain. “This is about the pain you caused me, not them.”

Kate, who had been watching every moment with a readiness to intervene and protect you if necessary, rushed to you both in alarm as soon as Billy’s hands gripped your face so violently.

With a sudden, forceful motion, she wrenched Billy’s hands away from you.

“You're fucking done, you hear me, asshole?” Kate hissed, towering over him as she created a protective barrier between you and Billy.

The latter whimpered in pain, a sound that spurred Wanda into action, her own distress evident as she rushed forward.

“That's enough!” Wanda exclaimed, a red wisp of magic surrounding Kate's hand and Billy's wrist in order to prevent her to cause him more pain. In consequence, Kate clenched her jaw in defeat, for she knew better than to defy someone as powerful as Wanda Maximoff.

You didn’t even notice when Natasha Romanoff appeared at your side, wrapping her arm around you with a firm, yet gentle hold.

“You’ve explained yourself,” the redhead said softly, her voice felt like the calm amidst the storm. “Let him handle the truth on his own. Let’s go…”

You were about to comply, the pull of Natasha's presence giving you the courage to leave everything behind for good.

But Billy’s last, scathing remark stopped you in your tracks.

“Oh, great! So now Mommy’s going to fix everything for me?” He snapped. “Isn’t that just perfect? Always stepping in to save the day while I get to deal with the mess you made!”

Her eyes widened in a heart-shattering mixture of confusion and sorrow. Her features altogether conformed what could be best described as the ultimate portrait of devastation.

No wonder. The sole purpose of forcing you to confess your mistakes to Billy was so you could face the consequences, and leavr you with a heavy conscience, never once imagining that she would be cast as a villain in her own son’s eyes.

And even though Wanda blatantly defended her son against your best friend —who was, in turn, protecting you from Billy’s wrath—, you couldn’t fight against the sympathy at such a heartache.

"Billy, I consider you a very dear friend, and I never meant to hurt you," you spoke up, stepping next to Wanda, implicitly offering her your inconditional support. “But my feelings for Wanda... they were never meant to deceive or harm you. I understand if you can't forgive me, but please know that it’s not her fault.”

"I think it's best if we all take a moment to breathe," Vision interjected calmly, stepping forward. "Emotions are high right now, and we need clarity to understand each other." His calm voice stood out against the atmosphere around you.

You knew that he and Wanda had drifted apart due to the demands of their lives; his Avenger missions and her career had led them in different directions. Their breakup was friendly, a mutual recognition that their paths no longer matched. Still, it was impressive how Vision maintained his composure, given the situation's nature.

Wanda nodded in agreement.

"Billy, let's talk privately. This isn't something we should handle in front of everyone."

“Oh, yes, that’s because you don’t want your superhero friends to know how you kissed (Y/N) right after I went to sleep that night, isn't that right?” He scoffed.

Although you didn't turn to check everyone's reaction, you could perfectly picture the shock once more evident on their faces, now at the possibility that maybe Wanda felt the same.

But unlike last time, where everyone decided to remain silent and play dumb, Tony spoke up from the table, “So what, kid? Good for them, now move the fuck on,” he groaned, his voice dripping with irritation that his friendly reunion had turned into a whole drama show.

“I did it to force her to confess,” Wanda justified. “And to punish her for hurting you.”

Billy’s gaze was skeptical, as he raised his eyebrow in disbelief. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t feel anything when you did that.”

Wanda’s resolve fell apart at that very question. Her eyes flickered away from his intense stare, enough to confirm what Billy had feared all along.

You were overpowered by a bliss so intense it seemed to permeate every fiber of your being, immediately making you forget the pain and despair that took place these last months.

“See?” Billy’s voice rose. “I wanted a chance to be happy, to be seen for once, and you took that away from me," he choked out, his voice breaking.

“Oh, Billy, I can’t take away what you didn’t have in the first place,” she scoffed. Her sadness was now replaced by a fierce anger.

She always felt exasperated at how her son had consistently drowned himself in self-pity, ever since he made the decision to age-skip. This wasn't the first time he manipulated every situation to fit his narrative. And this was the last straw for her.

“Ohhh, you think you’re so high and mighty, don’t you?” He spat, stepping close to her. “DON'T YOU?” And in a sudden outburst, Billy shoved Wanda with a force that sent her crashing to the floor.

The room gasped collectively at his gesture, and that was when everyone decided to take action instead of just being mere expectants.

You dropped to your knees, feeling both worried and enraged. The intensity of your indignation seemed to be making the ground beneath you tremble.

How could Billy not recognize the suffering he was causing to his own mother? Why was his need for validation bigger than his capacity to rationalize?

Tommy Maximoff: Yelena and I watched everything escalate so quickly, and we agreed not to get involved if we didn't have to. My father, Natasha and Kate were alert, and my mother has dealt with a thousand times worse than some whiny college boy (pauses) but seeing how that idiot pushed my mother, and wanted to degrade her like that?! All of a sudden, my fist collided with his face.

Tony Stark: Looking back, maybe this whole scene could have made a good dramatic painting (chuckles). I mean... Yelena, Kate, Natasha and this photographer girl giving moral support to Wanda at a table in the corner, while she allowed her son to get his comeuppance for being such a brat. Meanwhile, Tommy hitting Billy so hard it took Vision, Clint and I to separate them.

Tommy Maximoff: Even I'm shocked at the fact that it took my father, Hawkeye, and Iron Man to separate me from him. I guess I had a lot of pent up anger, and that moment was my breaking point.

Wanda Maximoff: Why did I allow it? The answer is simple; I gave up and even made the person I loved suffer in order to give my son his place. And what did he do? He made showed me in every way possible that I was a disgrace to him for the simple fact of having given birth to him. Well, if that's the case, good riddance.

Pepper Potts: Oh, what I'm missing by accompanying Peter (Parker) to a debate in Germany (laughs).

Vision: After the incident, Billy has not contacted us again. He thinks he's an outlaw, and we'll give him the benefit of the doubt. I'll just say that at least he is managing to make a name out of himself like he so badly wanted.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N): I hope he's going to therapy!

Wanda Maximoff: What did (Y/N) and I do after it all ended? We went to my room, at the Compound, and… I’ll keep the rest to myself.

"Please, I'll be a good girl," you whimpered, looking up at her with trembling lips and pleading eyes.

She had you kneeling between her legs as she sat on the edge of her bed. You couldn't handle all the torturing teasing she was putting you through, as she smacked her faux cock against your lips, and every time you tried to welcome it into your mouth, she pulled it back, only to repeat the process again.

"Oh, you already are," Wanda breathed, leaning very close to your lips that you could feel the lingering smell of wine on her breath. "But Mommy wants more than just a good girl. She wants a naughty little slut who does anything to please her.”

Before you could moan in response at the nickname she gave herself, she attacked your mouth in an aggressive kiss. At this point, your jaw was sore from so much movement and your lips were swollen, but you wouldn't have it any other way. You had found home on her lips once and you were finally back.

"I’ll make you feel good, I promise, just let me," you pleaded, your mouth watering due all the panting from the anticipation. 

She gave in to the sight of those puppy eyes, swollen lips, and that upper body covered in hickies. Soon enough, she gently guided your head towards her strap, her hands resting on either side of your head. 

“Suck on me. Show me what you're made of.”

Her breathing quickened as your mouth worked its way down her cock. Her hips began to rock, seeking more contact. It was evident that with very little stimulation, she let her guard down, no longer caring to hide how weak she truly was for you.

You gagged at the intrusion but took it as best as you could, even though your eyes were beginning to water.

Just like the merciless woman she has demonstrated you she was, far from going easy on you, she gripped the back of your head, holding you in place.

Whatever the reason, the coil forming on her stomach overwhelmed her, and before she could even notice, the intense wave of pleasure caused her to spurt her hot cum into your mouth, leaving her breathless and trembling.

Perhaps it was because it had been an incredibly long time since she had allowed herself to attend to her carnal needs, or perhaps it was because she found herself utterly and irresistibly attracted to you, or maybe it was a combination of both. 

"Oh fuck," she groaned, riding herself out of her orgasm, giving you little to no participation. Simply using you as a face to get off to. 

You did your best to swallow every single drop she gave you, however a few drops trailed on your chin, and a little bit down on your neck.

Wanda was different nevertheless. She seemed genuinely proud, filled with a warmth and admiration that made you feel truly seen and appreciated for the very first time.

Wanda grinned in satisfaction as she looked down at you.

None of your partners or hookups have ever taken the time to simply gaze down at you with anything more than burning desire. They always seemed to be in a rush, their eyes filled with nothing but lust and impatience. 

"Good girl," she said, reaching out to wipe her cum off with her thumb. She then stuck it into your mouth, and watched you suck it clean. “And you know what good girls deserve after such a delicious treat?"

"What, Mommy?" You asked excitedly. 

"Their reward," Wanda purred, leaning down to kiss you passionately while her fingers trailed down your neck, and gripped it gently. "My little cum-slut deserves some good fucking.”

Wanda gave a quick beckon, motioning for you to get on your feet. You had barely stood up completely, when she gripped your hips tightly with her strong hands and forced you under her. Her superhuman force made you so featherlight in comparison to her, allowing her to have complete control over your movements, leaving no doubt about who was in charge in that moment.

The tip of her cock gently brushed against your entrance making you both shiver at the mere thought of what was about to happen.

She slowly thrust her hips forward, slowly penetrating you with her strap. 

You shut your eyes tight in response, gasping at how exquisite but painful it was to have your tiny hole stuffed by her massive cock. 

"There, you're doing well, baby,'" she said, caressing your cheek as a display of encouragement. “Do you need to stop?” She asked attentively. 

You shook your head in refusal, choosing instead to grasp her shoulders firmly, seeking something to anchor yourself to. The harshness of your touch brought a smile to her face, lighting up her eyes with a spark of joy at your silent approval. 

She slowly picked up the pace, thrusting deeper and harder into you. 

The slapping of your bodies, the headboard clashing against the wall, and your mutual panting and moaning were the only sounds echoing through Wanda’s spacious room at the compound. 

Your eyes squeezed shut, a chaotic blend of screams and moans escaping your lips as you dangerously hung on the edge of tears. 

She looked down at you, a satisfied smile playing on her lips, her eyes shimmering with delight as you writhed beneath her. 

"That's it," her hips slammed against yours with a fierce intensity. In response, she could feel your nails digging into her back, leaving angry red marks that would soon blossom into bleeding scratches. 

"Fuck... FUCK! I'm gonna cum! I need to cum," you screamed, not fighting against the tears any longer. 

"Cum for me, darling," she accentuated each worth with a single thrust. One of her hands reached between your legs, roughly massaging your clit with her thumb, determined to tear you apart through every single nerve ending that could occur to her.  

You screamed loudly, your walls squeezing her cock as you came hard. She could feel your juices flowing down her bedsheets, coating them in a warm sheen. Her seed didn't take much longer to fill you up, pushing against you as it spilled into every crevice of your pussy.

As her orgasm subsided, Wanda slowly pulled out of you, her dick slipping wetly from your hole. 

"Fuck, I wish you could see yourself right now," she whispered, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Just then, an idea sparked in her mind. "Stay right there," she commanded, climbing off you.

You watched, breathless, as she stood up, her strap glistening and even dripping with both of your releases.  

She opened a drawer and retrieved a Polaroid camera. 

"What? You're not the only one who owns one,” she stated, a playful smirk on her lips as she gauged at your surprised expression. 

She lay on her stomach, the camera positioned between your pussy and her face. With a playful grin, she snapped a picture, capturing the sight of your hole still dripping with your shared juices. The blinding flash it possessed would illuminate every detail and highlight the intensity of what you both had just experienced. 

She slid a single finger inside you, provoking your walls to swallow her without hesitation once more, making you arch your back in response to the pleasure coursing through you.

She couldn't resist taking another picture, the mesmerizing sight too beautiful to pass up.

She growled in desperate need, setting the camera aside as she flipped you on all fours, her eyes glinting with desire as she admired the view you presented. She as well switched her position, this time beneath you, guiding you to lower yourself onto her face.

As you settled in, she slipped two fingers inside you, curling them in a come-hither motion that provoked you to grip her hair desperately, the headboard being too far away for you to hold onto it.

However, she continued her ministrations, seemingly unbothered and even excited by your aggressive treatment.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and you weren't even able to make a single sound as your breath cut down in your throat. You felt a tightness in your chest, and each second seemed to stretch into an eternity. All you could focus on was the intense feeling restricting your ability to breathe.

"S-s-stop! STOP!" She knew from your irregular breath and whimpering what was about to happen.

She would happily embrace whatever reaction you would have. However she wanted to teach you that you didn’t have anything to be embarrassed about, not through reassuring words but through desperation. 

Therefore, she slowed down her fingers, upom hearing your warning. She took her fingers out of you, pulling her hand out and slapping your ass. 

“Are you sure, slut?” She asked. 

"Fuck... no," you exclaimed, the feeling of your walls clenching at the lack of her fingers was too unbearable to handle. 

She chuckled and moved back to your entrance, finger fucking you senseless with a slow but hard pace. 

To her dislike, she eventually noticed that you were holding back again, and her irritation increased. She wanted you to let go, to embrace the experience fully, and she was ready to do whatever it took to guide you there.

"Baby, if you don't cum right now, I'm going to spank you so hard you won't be able to walk for a month," Wanda threatened. She reached around and pinched your clit, making you gasp as she continued fucking you.

“Mmm, here it comes,” you warned her, a whimper escaping from your lips as you prepared to unleash the inevitable. 

With a dramatic flourish, you tilted your head back, watching as your squirt arced out of your cunt like a shimmering comet, a cascade of droplets splashing across Wanda's face, not leaving an inch unsoaked.

You took a few deep breaths, defeatedly laying on your back next to her, leaving your tits and stomach on her sight, as well as your well-fucked pussy. 

And as if you were made of the most fragile crystal, she pulled the bedsheets from under you, enveloping both of you under the warmth of her bedsheets. 

The sudden shift of treatment caught you off guard, and before you knew it, she had you pulled back against her chest, the sweat of her body mixing with yours.

You could hear her rapid heartbeat. It was both comforting and electrifying, grounding your once racing heart into finding its rhythm again.

"I've got you, little one," she whispered softly in your ear. “I'm not letting you go, ever again,” she vowed, leaving open mouthed kisses on your forehead. 

And she held onto that promise. Forever.

The next day, the soft rays of sunlight peeked through the curtains, emanating a warm glow in the room. 

You stirred awake to the gentle sensation of little kisses peppering your face. The older woman beside you, with her playful affection, made you wrinkle your nose in that adorable way that never failed to make her smile.

"How are you feeling, love?" She asked softly, her concern for you palpable both in her tone and expression.

"Wonderful," you replied, stretching your limbs with a lazy grace. You leaned in and pressed your lips against hers. "And you? Did you sleep well?"

"As I’ve ever slept in my life," she confirmed, her eyes sparkling with a mix of joy and something deeper. "I want to shout to the rooftops how much I love you, how profoundly you mean to me."

Wanda loved you. Truly, deeply loved you. 

What had transpired the night before was not merely a release of carnal desires; it was an intimate, powerful affirmation of connection, a way of claiming you as hers. 

"I love you more," you replied, your heart threatening to come out of your chest, as it was not yet used to this level of bliss. 

You pressed another kiss to her lips, pouring every ounce of your feelings into that simple peck.

"I have faith in us, in all of this," she said, her voice determined yet filled with vulnerability. "After everything that happened, would you give me a chance?" You could see the sincerity in her eyes, the longing for a future together. 

"Absolutely, my darling," you reached out, taking her hand in yours reassuringly. Two souls intertwining like an ivy growing over a sturdy stone. 

[ofallthingsnasty]

Crocodile takes his fat basement wife shopping for clothes and is disappointed and irritated that none of the stores have anything in her size

Cue custom made wardrobe where everything fits her perfectly (that is the dream)

Or maybe he gives her a bunch of magazine catalogues and tells her to list down what outfits she likes. And his poor soggy wife obeys but thinks the whole time “this is cute but it won’t fit me” or “I’d be too scared to wear this in public but I’d like to imagine it”

She doesn’t think much of it but a few weeks later every single item is in her wardrobe and to her size (with a few outfits that he wants her in thrown in)

Oh goodness, stop, that's too cute. Are you trying to kill me? 😭 I can see him taking you shopping and getting furious when they don’t have anything in your size, like what kind of retailer is this supposed to be? Ridiculous  - but that would happen if he were normal about you. And he really isn’t, haha. When it comes to Crocodile, basement really means basement - you’re a liability, a weakness. Not something other people need to know about.

tw.yandere, fem + fat reader, basement wivery

He practically slaps those catalogues down and says that you can get the whole thing if you so wish - but pick something, storms off and doesn’t even wait for an answer. It’s a treat, a reward - and those are rare coming from him, especially when it concerns your appearance. You have very little say in what clothes he puts you in, everything down to your socks is picked out for you. It’s important to him that you two match, even if no one except for him (and occasionally Ms. All Sunday) gets to see you. It’s all about his ego and entertainment and power. So you being allowed to pick out something you like? You must have been on exceptionally good behavior for that to happen. It’s just a shame that the models in the magazines don’t look like you at all, even if they have the clothes in your size. You feel more and more tense the longer you skim through the little booklets - nervous because you’re sure nothing is going to fit you well enough and anxious to voice those same concerns to him. He’ll just call you ungrateful and rip the catalogues from your hands again, maybe even punish you for being so selfish and spoiled, and that’s the last thing you want. You’re almost back to crying when you’re done building a million what-ifs and scenarios in your mind, it’s that overwhelming. It’s hard not to feel rushed between him waiting on you to drop the papers back into his lap and being insecure about your body. When you finally swallow down that big lump in your throat and simply circle some of the things you think are safe bets, he’s already impatiently chewing his cigar at his desk. So when he makes a grand show of presenting with your picks some weeks later, you’re going to be more than surprised to find some more… risqué pieces among them, things you definitely didn’t mark. And no matter how much your ears burn or how shaky you get, he’ll have you model every single item. He doesn’t care that you’re embarrassed, he gave you a gift. And you better honor that - not only by showing him just how snug some pieces are, but also by giving him a nice and proper thank you. See, he’s generous - you don’t have to ride him for it (although he certainly wouldn’t say no to that), some words of gratitude and a kiss on the cheek are enough.  

Play pretend with him, even for a little while, let him be your husband and he can be so, so good to you.

[sunrise-imagines]

would you consider writing an evil marceline/reader hcs/small story? ^^

YES YES YES ABSOLUTELY. FINALLY I GET TO WRITE ABOUT HER. MY QUEEN. MY GOTH LOLITA GF. PLEASE STEP ON ME MU GOD-

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

TW: Toxic traits exhibited by Marcy, general mean girl vibes, teeny tiny nsfw reference (like it’s really only one line). This turned out way more toxic than I intended so sorry abt that

Vampireworld/The Star!Marceline the Vampire Queen x Reader Relationship Headcanons

• Meeeeaaan. Like teasing and bullying you is second nature to her, she’s such a spoiled brat. Will (very begrudgingly) stop if it really hurts you though.

• Wants your eyes on her and her only. She’s very possessive of you and gets jealous easily. If she sees anyone even looking at you funny, they’re getting their soul sucked immediately.

• Matching outfits? Matching outfits. If you don’t like her aesthetic, too bad. You’re wearing what she tells you to and that’s final.

• Constantly asking when can she finally turn you into a vampire, why would you want to stay human when you can join her and be together forever? (Plus getting to bite your neck and suck your blood would be totally hot)

• Loves to roughhouse, she’s really strong and if you can manage to best her she’ll be really impressed (she’d never admit it though, just scoff and say “You got lucky that time.”)

• Will take any chance she can to taste your blood, anytime you get a cut or scratch she is on you like a bee to honey, licking up whatever tiny drops she can. (If you are a person with a uterus, I don’t even have to explain what I’m thinking, y’all can guess 👀)

• Total princess, hates doing anything like chores, cooking or cleaning. That’s what minions are for, duh!

• Loves to make people uncomfortable with overt and over-the-top PDA, especially her Dad. She will full on make out with you in front of him just to spite him, she’s that petty.

• She’s so smooth it’s infuriating. All she has to do is whisper some sweet words in your ear and you become completely flustered, to her great amusement.

• Let her bite you pleeeaaase, she promises she won’t actually puncture the skin or turn you, even though she get dangerously close to your jugular and her fangs are digging in so hard they almost break the skin, but she never goes all the way (not yet at least).

• What she says is law, and there is no ands, ifs or buts about it. She says she doesn’t want you to hang out with that person? You don’t hang out with them anymore. She says she wants you to address her as “My Queen”? That’s how you address her from now on.

• You know she’s toxic, but she’s just too irresistible to say no to. She genuinely believes she knows what’s best for you, and as long as you obey her every command, she will always give you everything you could ever want. After all, what more could you want than her love?

[aneverydaysimp]

CLOSED FOR THE MOMENT!! Thank you all for the asks!! Will reopen as soon as I'm done writing them!! :))

Okay, y'all, I'm on my knees, begging, pleading, crying for some kind of request/s 😭 I need to get myself out of this writers block and actually post something on here for once in my pathetic little writer's life. So! As of right now, I am willing to write:

Angst

Fluff

Headcanons

Smut (may take awhile)

Crack

What ifs

The characters I am currently willing to write for are:

Lars Rorschach (for all time/lovebrush chronicles)

Clarence Clayden (for all time/lovebrush chronicles)

Rafayel (love and deepspace)

Zayne (love and deepspace)

Willing to attempt Xavier (love and deepspace)

Lucifer (obey me)

Mammon (obey me)

Leviathan (obey me)

Satan (obey me)

Asmodeus (obey me)

Beelzebub (obey me)

Belphegor (obey me)

Diavolo (obey me)

Barbatos (obey me)

Mephistopheles (obey me)

Simeon (obey me)

I'm willing to write for any pairings, but unless specified, will likely just use they/them or you pronouns for the MC :))

I really hope to hear some requests soon <33

[howdoyousleep3]

11. “Louder. Let me hear you.” IS SCREAMING SENATOR/INTERN

Hell yeah. ❤️‍🔥 Tags: established relationship, manhandling, anal sex, rough sex, dirty talk, hinted at exhibitionism, daddy kink Word Count: 811

Bucky feels like he’s drowning.

Each breath is a gasp, his lungs desperate for the oxygen he’s purposely depriving himself of in order to muffle his noises. The pillow he bites into does very little to assist him in this matter, yet it feels good to bite down on something, to put something in his mouth.

Always forced to be quiet, always forced to hide. Secrets, secrets, secrets.

Never out of his head entirely, always leaving one foot within the clearer parts of his mind. He can count on one hand the times he’s been able to leave his mind in full, the times he’s not anxious about the what ifs, the risks.

Always good though, always as good as he can be for Daddy. Always—

A smack on his ass, sharp and stinging, forces his eyes to water, forces his teeth to clench. He chokes on his wail, chokes down the greedy moan that forces its way up and out of his throat. His dick aches where it’s trapped against the sheets, ignored and throbbing from the friction of Steve’s thrusts.

Another slap then, smack, right atop the first one, followed by a dig of the senator’s hips. It stretches his rim out around Steve’s girth even further, as if the senator is trying to impossibly force his cock further into Bucky’s body. He can feel the older man in his throat, feels as if his ass isn’t the only hole being brutalized.

Steve lets out the noise Bucky wishes he could, the depth and emotion of it nearly rattling Bucky’s own teeth.

“I didn’t bring you all the way out here…to shove your face into a pillow and just take it.”

Steve takes a pause from riding Bucky into the mattress and leans down, blanketing himself over Bucky’s backside. And it’s as if the senator can’t help himself, as if the temptation of being inside of Bucky is too much, because even then his hips rock.

Bucky’s eyes roll easily back into his head.

Fingers slip through his hair, tugging, yanking his head back and pulling the pillow free from his teeth.“You think I brought you into my home so you could cry into my pillows?” Bucky can feel the smile on Steve’s lips press against the shell of his ear. “Don’t get me wrong—you know I love it when this dick makes you cry. But if you don’t start wakin’ up my neighbors, I’m gonna call you a fuckin’ Uber, boy.”

Bucky listens blindly, obeys in the exact manner that makes the senator’s dick hard—immediately.

His groan feels more than just a noise; it feels like a release.

He embraces the way it grates against the front of his throat, leans into the feeling of embarrassment when the desperation of the noise hits his ears. His breaths are distorted noises, pleading and ugly, ones that jolt and bounce in time with Steve’s thrusts. With the noises he lets out, Bucky almost mourns for the loss of the lewd noises of his ass being fucked, almost wishes he could hear them again even if they make his cheeks heat up and his eyes well up with tears.

But once the first moan is out of his mouth, he’s unable to stop.

And once he’s unable to stop is when the senator seems the most satisfied, his own noises hitting a more feral pitch.

Satisfied but never not greedy.

“That’s it. Louder. Let me hear you, baby.”

Always the listener, always obedient, Bucky moans. “Daddy…Daddy!” He gets a hand wrapped around the front of his throat for his troubles, for being good. He hopes Steve can feel the rasp of his groan against his palm. The senator pulls his hips back further, gives him longer strokes, digs his cock into Bucky harder.

“Yeah, there it is. Ain’t anybody here gonna get’chu in trouble for getting a senator’s dick all wet. You can be as loud as you want here.”

“Oh fuck,” Bucky pants, shouts. “The senator’s…dick. Get his dick all wet.” Bucky hiccups, whining as he reaches for one of Steve’s fingers to suck into his mouth. “Steve…Steve, it feels so good.”

Bucky’s certain he’s wailing.

“Fuck yeah, Buck. Pussy feels so goddamn good. Gotta let Daddy know you love it, gotta be loud as fuck for it.”

Bucky just repeats what he’s hearing, making noise feeling too good to question the words he’s saying. “Pussy feels…feels so good. Gotta let…oh god, gotta let Daddy know.”

Steve’s guttural groan into his neck almost feels better than letting out his own.

“Fuck, baby. You get the cops called on us and I’ll double your pay, triple it. Want the neighbors thinkin’ you’re dyin’ in here. C’mon, honey. Gimme that pussy.”

Always good, always as good as he can be for Daddy.

“Give Daddy this pussy.”

“Good fuckin’ boy…”

[p-r-e-s-t-o]

Long ass rant bc i needed to spill into the void, dont mind me.

My otome game hottake if I've ever had one is that it should be kept as is honestly. Can't explain the happy-giddiness I felt when I downloaded some admittedly poorly done otome games on my phone in like 2013 and realizing they're intended for girls like me instead of boys for once. I've always thought of the genre as a girlie safe-Heaven and honestly believe part of girlhood is playing some silly small otome games and trying not to smile at ur screen. Obey Me changed it up a bit although I personally don't see it as an otome game, ik others who do, by making the Main Character Gender neutral and that was chill, cool cool cool, innovative. Recently with the release of a big game like Love and Deepspace for instance I've noticed a demand to make it have a Male Main character for example because guys wanted to play too and it kinda iffed me personally because women/girls/fem identifying people are the target audience for Otome games, it legit means Maiden Game. I don't know specific identifiers for them since I don't play them, I do know BL games exist, they're out there, and I see no reason for them to breach the otome genre. I mean, I've never personally felt entitled to be included in a genre of content not intended for me at all even if what it presented appealed to me, like i may see some character and think "Wow he is hot" and then find out he's from a BL game, my first thought wouldn't be "Yo can you make a female main character, even though you honestly dont have to because you are a game/category intended for MLM and not Het or Bi women/fems? Thanks, i will wait on that". It's probably nonsense or me being young and immature but I feel irritated at the suggestion of sharing a space that was super unavailable to me when I was a kid and even now with men or male identifying people when so much of content has and does aim at them, but nooo the girlie little romance games have to suddenly accommodate men too because they feel entitled to it. Why can't something just be for girls? I don't get it. I feel like men get to be willy nilly in their spaces and games not forced to accommodate nearly as often as anything meant for girls, whenever something is intended for a female audience, it doesn't get to just be for a female audience, that really annoys me. I keep seeing "But obey me" as an argument for inclusivity bur frankly as an user on TT put it, having such options is a privilege, not a must. Otome games don't have to present themselves to everyone unless they choose to give players the privilege of it, because they've had an intended audience from the start who consume it frequently. That and Obey me isn't an otome game in mine and others opinions, it's more akin to Twisted wonderland, a rhythm game of sorts, especially nightbringer. Yeah, rant over, I just needed to speak into the void. May be controversial, but I genuinely don't hate anyone, I just feel irked at the expectation that me and others have to always make room for more because we aren't enough of a player base somehow. I've seen guys on tik tok say stuff like "Can't men just be attracted to men?" I understand you can't help who you're attracted to, I'm Bi personally, but just because you're attracted to some character doesn't mean an entire standalone genre has to change because you demand it imo, I don't get the sense of entitlement that comes with making that demand, and saying stuff like "Male MC?/No male mc?:(/ why isn't there a male mc?" is pretty mind boggling like do you know which genre this is rn pook. Do you know what otome means. Sigh but like, why can't something just be for the ladies? Genuine question smh

[cinnabun-faerie]

Note: This goes for all of my writing, not just FFXIV although most examples are FFXIV

Warning: A small Heavensward spoiler under the cut.

So I know my style/way of writing might not be everyone's cup of tea, and that's okay. If you don't like how I write a character, that's okay too! But when someone reblogs saying "This character wouldn't do that/this character wouldn't say this", it makes me feel kinda crappy. Why can't readers/fellow writers just respect how other people interpret characters and keep scrolling?

I like writing sides of characters that may not be according to canon. I love flipping the script! It's what I want to read, so I write it. I often find a love and appreciation of characters through writing them/researching about them. Characters I would have otherwise disliked such as Zenos and Fandaniel, I ended up loving to write for them.

For example, I love taking Zenos' friendship & in-game bond with the Warrior of Light and imagining what a relationship between the two would look like in an AU. It doesn't have to line up with canon, it's an alternate reality. Normally I have him being attentive and loving. Would his character normally do that? Maybe not.

Hell, writing Zenos fighting an elderly woman in a grocery store on Christmas Eve was one of the best things I enjoyed writing for him. And the only reason why he got in that fight was because he wanted to buy something for the Reader/Warrior of Light. In my headcanon, I think Zenos would be so loving and attentive to them.

Sukuna is another one that I would have normally disliked but I really enjoyed him the most in Jujutsu Kaisen. And the same with Zenos, I wanted to see him be loving to a partner.

Another few examples would be if Simeon from Obey Me became a demon, or G'raha Tia/Aymeric from FFXIV and were evil or yandere-ish like if they were a vampire or if they were Ghostface from Scream. Or in Aymeric's case, what if he was actually secretly evil the whole time in Heavensward?

Or Zephirin from FFXIV! He's a character that a lot of us hate/dislike because he killed Haurchefant. But what if that could be changed? We see early on in the story that he seems to be an alright fella (until things start to ramp up). And we see the effects of those under the influence of Primals (hence the knights of the round). What if he really was, that good dude? What if he only did these horrible things under the influence of the Archbishop/knights of the round? What if there was a way to save him? There's so many what ifs with him. And honestly through imagination and the magic of story telling, he really could be good.

And that's why I really wanna write for him. There are so many possibilities. ... Regardless, if my writing bothers you, please just scroll.

[oc-cafe]

No one killed the King.

It’s been three days, seven hours, nine minutes and exactly sixty nine seconds since Vea Amaris broke into our ballroom, collapsed on the floor and cried. In the past three days, seven hours, nine minutes, and exactly sixty nine, well seventy seconds since then, a lot has happened. My mother has decided to acknowledge herself as the queen until I breach eighteen. After that, I will be the ruler, and she an advisor.

Vea Amaris is now well enough to sit up straight, well partially. Their ministers  have already received a letter, explaining where their acting ruler is, as their father’s whereabouts are unknown.  Eren left early yesterday morning, determined to find King Amom. 

There’s so  much to do. Father’s funeral has already been held. We had no body to bury so we buried his falchion, even though he never used it. He stuck to his daggers until the very end, but they were lost at sea along with his beloved bow and arrow, if only we had them. 

Grief weighs down every move in the castle, Zuri can no longer be seen sketching the horizon or taking one of her long walks on the beach, she’s shut herself in her wing and has allowed no one to see her. She’s even stopped taking her meals with mother and I! 

I wish I could fault her, blame her, but it would be hypocritical of me. If I could, I would  hide away in my room as well, but I have duties. I am expected to rule while my mother recovers from the shock, she is still queen but I am still the heir. I still have to lead my people, I still have to look after Vea, soothe our agitated allies before they turn on us, defend my kingdom and most importantly, find my father’s killer.

There aren’t any leads to follow, I haven’t been allowed near Vea, therefore I cannot question them about his death. There’s no ship to inspect, no bodies, no witnesses, nothing. Nothing. NOTHING. 

Nothing’s such a horrible word, there’s no point to it. It’s the only lie we accept. Every question in the world could be answered with those seven letters, but it’s never nothing, is it? There’s always something, or someone. 

This is basically a long winded way of saying, I’m sneaking into Vea’s hospital room to ask them questions about my father’s brutal murder. Yay! This will definitely not backfire, Amaris is… reasonable, for the lack of a better word. 

My shoes are off, and all that could give away my identity is hidden away in my room, where I’ve arranged a few cushions to pretend that I’m asleep in my room. The borrowed (read: stolen) servant’s gown is slightly uncomfortable but nondescript enough that no one will pay attention to me. 

Now. I have a royal to harass. 

-X-

I quietly make my way around the clinic, careful to stay on my guard, while Ababyomi may be out for now, she’s sure to return soon, and she knows every single nurse that works for her. The second she’s back, I’m screwed.  The other nurses mill about restlessly, currently the only patient in the castle is Vea. That makes my work a lot harder. I manage to disappear behind the curtain that separates my mark from me and my questions. Vea looks less pitiful today, the swelling around their eyes has gone down, making them look less racoonish. The blood that clung to their armour and skin that night, has been painstakingly cleaned, the only trace of their injuries are the stitches that line most of their body. 

They cock their head to the side, and sit up. Their smile is tired and their hands barely obey them when they lift it in a silent gesture. “You’re welcome here.” It’s small and silent, a mutual understanding. We’ve both lost our fathers and for tonight, there is to be no mention of the war, only a grim compromise. 

 I’ll tell you what you want to know, and you’ll tell me what I want to know. No ifs, no buts. 

“Good evening, Vea.” I drag a chair next to their bed, allowing my body to finally rest. For the past three days, I’ve done nothing but run around, and deal with agitated allies. A few moments of rest and relaxation was much needed.  “Daraja. I am truly sorry about your father, I wish I could have done more , helped him, somehow.” 

“You still can, help me find who killed him, Vea. Please.” I want to scream and cry but diplomacy helped us before, perhaps it can again. 

“I’ll  help however I can…. For a  price.” 

“A price?” “Nothing is ever free Princess.” They smile at me softly, their gaze carries no heat, a simple aura of cool intellect hidden by a weak exterior. 

“I’m aware, name your price.” “A walk around the palace?” Well. That was…surprising. 

“Uh. Sure.”  What could possibly go wrong?

  -X-

After a nerve wracking  escape from the clinic, we wander around in the gardens, there is not a single soul in sight. Only Vea and I. 

For a few moments neither of us speak, the only sound passing between us is that of their cane sounding against the cobblestones. 

“So.”  A brave attempt at breaking the tension, a failed one but brave nonetheless. 

“Right.” “I don’t know how to start.” A beat. 

“I’ll tell you exactly what happened and then you can decide what you want to do with me.”  Vea offers, their gaze turned away from me.  They don’t wait for an answer.

“We set sail almost immediately after the treaty was signed. He didn’t want to wait until dinner, he didn’t want to wait a second longer. All he could talk about were his girls, he talked about Zuri and The queen but mostly, he talked about you and how proud he was of you. He really loved you Daraja.” The weather is exceptionally warm, even my eyes are perspiring.  

“  I wish both of us could have made it home Daraja, I really do, but when those monsters took me…” 

“Monsters? Took you? Wha-” WHAT MONSTERS? LITERAL? FIGURATIVE? ELABORATE. 

“They didn’t tell you, did they?” Of couuuurse they did, I’m just pretending not to know. Read the garden Amaris. 

“I’m sorry, um I forgot that Aiga wasn’t aware of  the skelons.”  Skelons? What? 

“Skelons?”

“It’s a long story…” “I’ve got time.” 

A/N: Has this been beta read? Absolutely not no. Has this been posted after a billion years? Absolutely yes. 

I apologise for the incredibly long hiatus, I really didn't mean to do that. I’m really hoping y’all haven’t lost interest yet.

Mod Tag: @tiredguyswag@ne0npurplefantasies

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[therhythmafterthesummer]

I have more question and would like to hear your thoughts on some what ifs

1) do you think autumn wouldn’t have stayed in Chan’s pack if there would have been specific rules for omegas, even if they were ones to actually protect them? Ex: when close to your heat let others know when you are going out and request of someone else go with you

2) thoughts on if Changbin just so happened to find himself in a dark alley with Autumn’s ex and he knew there would be no consequences. Mine are I doubt the guy makes it out alive

3) like how Chris in the actual band doesn’t care about seniority and let’s IN do things like hold the trophy first, get first bites ex, does this happen in the actual pack?

4)if it was just mitten and Sir P/future cats for the rest of ever by themselves, do you think he’d suffer from lone wolf syndrome? Do you think he’d notice if he did get it?

5) are lunar eclipses and solstices also important for the wolves for runs and celebrations?

6) what if instead happy zoomies from Chris when he finally learns he’s gonna be a dad, he actually gets so excited and worked up he passes out? Thoughts? Cause like tbh it would be so cute.

7) for soulmates/truemates, if one of them were to pass would the other likely die of a broken heart? If so, does it ever happen to just other mates/packmates?

-🥝

love these so much, you already know.

she could've dealt with rules for omegas depending on what the rules were. if they'd been something like "omegas tend to the household while their alphas work" or "omegas must obey higher designations" she definitely wouldn't have stayed.

wr!Changbin has had his fair dose of anger issues, and i feel like all those would resurface if he saw Hyunwoo lol. he'd definitely try to fight, and at the very least, he'll get him unconscious..

yes, yes it does. Chris just wants his pack members to follow the very few rules he's put in place (help each other out when needed, speak out if you're uncomfortable, protect each other, anyone that's coming to the building must be introduced to Chris, and he will decide whether or not they can come into the den, etc). other than that, everyone's pretty much equal.

he wouldn't notice if he were suffering from lone wolf syndrome, at least not for a while. but, kitten and sir p are part of his pack, so he wouldn't get it anyway. in this universe, lone wolf syndrome is more about the pack than it is about being surrounded by other wolves. it's also why, when jisung found them, minho was fine. he wasn't alone, he had kitten (and his mum, and sir P, and kitten's dad).

yes, yes they are! i just haven't decided how they affect werewolves in this universe ahhaha. anything related to the sun, the moon, and the stars can affect them in one way or another.

awwwww, that's cute. i don't think he'll fully pass out, but i'm sure he'll be really close to hahah. he'll either try to go on a run to let those feelings out, or not detach himself from his prettiest for a second (aka, enters annoying protection mode).

yes, soulmates/truemates would die if the other passed. we know chris x pretty are soulmates, as are hyunlix x moss. with hyunlix and moss, if two of the throuple remain alive it's very likely that they'll survive for much longer, since they have each other, you know? if two of them die, whoever's left will die of a broken heart. same thing with pretty x chris. i feel like it's obvious that if pretty died, Chris would 100% die of a broken heart. what people might question is what would happen to pretty if Chris died.... pretty is human, but the universe has tied her to Chris, so she'd also die of a broken heart if he died. regular mates wouldn't necessarily die of a broken heart, but it's very likely that they wouldn't mate ever again (it'd depend on the relationship they had, honestly). pack mates usually wouldn't die of a broken heart if one of their own passed.

hope these answer your questions and that they make sense sjkdfhskjf feel free to let me know if they don't

[velvetporcelain]

hexagram

no gym today. I hope that motherfucker was pacing around wondering were I was. he pissed me off yesterday, crossed my boundaries with honest words of desire. I don't punish for honesty, I don't like to think that I am punishing anyone. He annoyed me, he interrupted my workout again, and I was mad, but I I cannot for the life of me be mean- not yet. but whatever. I am not making a big deal out of it. He wants to take me shopping, he wants to just be with. me, he admitted that he would not want anything sexual from me beside pleasuring and worshipping me. He wants to please me, that will please him. I am taken back a little bit. --- is this man fucking crazy. He wants to touch my body, he wants to taste my pussy, he wants to bite my breasts. He is extremely vulnerable right now. I thought about him more than I wanted to today, I have no real desire for this man to touch me-- but its the idea of it all that I am attracted to. I would be lying if I said it didn't intrgue me-- I feel like that is all I have ever wanted, and im frozen.

It is kinda cringe to me too, the idea of it all. do I live my life with a bunch of what ifs- and die a fucking virgin, not of sex, but of life? does marriage bound you to specific experiences? now that I skipped a day he is going to be hovering me more-- he already is in like protection mode--- he has said that he has put his heart out there, and im not feeling pity at all, this is no pity, this is almost some sick fucking game I am playing with the laws of attraction. Getting what I want out of them in the sense of energy--- but I really could go without this on my concious. Anyways I don't know what I am going to do-- I may change the times I go, fuck I hope this doesn't ruin what I need to do for myself, but I like the challenge in a way. I can't think-- I feel like I am convincing myself some way or the other.

Its wrong because society says its wrong, I think its wrong because society said it was wrong, I am such a domesticated bitch, it's disgusting. but so is this man. so do I want to be loved this badly? do I want to feel loved this badly? No, I don't, now I kinda just want the motherfuckers money to pay me back for my time. he said he would take me to get a tattoo, I was like, fuck. Something is wedging itself between me and saying yes, I can feel it.

I need to sit at my desk more, I enjoy this, but usually I write so personally that I am not comfortable writing out in the open when there are people walking by with the potential to skim my shit for keywords. but this feels nice.

today I took my favorite drive through the city. i love my little car. I love this little life. I was born to be a lover, but I was taught how to hate, dismiss, obey--- no more, lover mode engaged.

also, I killed my fish. will conform tomorrow.

I love you.

-x

[hiswordsarekisses]

“All the promises in Jesus are YES and AMEN BUT a lot of the promises are actually conditional.

If you abide by His word the promises will prove true in your life. This is scriptural. Look up the “if’s” yourself!

Everything we have and enjoy is the sheer MERCY & GRACE of God. However there are conditional promises in the Old Testament and the New Testament (a total of over 8000).

God said “if” you keep my commandments all will go well with you (Joshua 1:8), and there will be blessings for 1000 generations, but if we fail to keep them, we will come under a curse.

Now Jesus took every curse upon Himself and broke its power over us and has set the captive free, by the blood He shed on the Cross. However, even Jesus says “If” you love me, you will obey my commandments. “If” any man will take up his cross and come after me.

There are many such “Ifs” in the Bible. The “curse” (which is reaping what we have sown) is self-inflicted. God is not going to violate His character for your sake or mine. If you live in disobedience, you will reap the fruit of that which is not a blessing.

Thank God for the many promises we have in Jesus.

Sometimes life just happens, but we do have to always examine whether there are some things going wrong in our lives because of wrong choices we have made so we can repent and set it right and enjoy the favour that comes from walking in obedience.”

~ Navaz Dcruz

“Once you were alienated from God and were hostile in your minds, engaging in evil deeds. But now He has reconciled you by Christ’s physical body through death to present you holy, unblemished, and blameless in His presence— “if” indeed you continue in your faith, established and firm, not moved from the hope of the gospel you heard, which has been proclaimed to every creature under heaven, and of which I, Paul, have become a servant.” Colossians‬ ‭1‬:‭21‬-‭23‬

“Now, brothers, I want to remind you of the gospel I preached to you, which you received, and in which you stand firm. By this gospel you are saved, “if” you hold firmly to the word I preached to you. Otherwise, you have believed in vain.”

1 Corinthians‬ ‭15‬:‭1‬-‭2‬

(An “if” can change a lot.)

[sgt-seabass]

what if ask for your clockwork au ft. continuation of navy's ask:

what if nick hadn't killed james and james turned out to be a dark character too? like he's been keeping eye on the puppy for nick but fell in love along the way BUT he still obeys nick bc he's the prime alpha 👀

thank you for this 💙 an interesting plot twist for sure

If James had been working with Nick, tasked with keeping an eye on you, but fell in love with you while doing so, James would still die.

Nick would not allow that transgression, especially when this isn’t just business, but personal interest too.

Even if James still obeyed Nick’s orders, for Nick, knowing someone else loved what was his - you - would bother him to the point of violence.

Everyone was replaceable, but not you. And he wouldn’t risk losing you to James.

But who knows, in this world of what ifs, maybe James could escape with you before Nick came for a visit 😌

ask me ‘what ifs’ about any of my works

[irisandlily]

Fire Emblem Siblings Week 2023- Lucina & Morgan (1/7)

Prompt: Fears

Rating: General Audiences

(also on ao3)

---

"Gerome, Severa, Kjelle, Inigo, and Nah with me," Lucina says, “Brady and Laurent will stay here at camp, and I want Yarne and Morgan to head back to the castle to update Owain and the others of the situation.”

"I'm not going back to the castle."

"Morgan-"

“If you won’t let me go with you, at least let me be here to greet you when you come back.”

“...Alright.”

That had been an hour ago. Lucina and less than half the soldiers at the camp left to assist a village plagued by Risen, because Lucina always helps those in need.

Morgan paces back and forth in the supply tent. He’s helping Brady go through their inventory and record how much of what they have left in stock and if they need to get more supplies. Well, he’s supposed to be helping Brady, but Morgan is feeling too restless to do that.

"Yeesh. Stop pacing so much. You're even making me feel uneasy." Brady complains.

"I just feel so useless." Morgan grumbles, "The others are fighting and I'm just sitting at camp waiting for them to come back."

"And what does that make me and Laurent? Chopped liver?”

“I didn’t mean-”

“Just sit your butt down and help me organize our inventory.” Brady motions him over, and Morgan obeys with some reluctance. agitated by how unconcerned Brady seems to be.

“What if it’s an ambush? What if the Grimleal-”

“Stop thinking about all these what-ifs.” Brady snaps, “I’m worried bout them too, but worrying ain't gonna do nothing for them.”

Morgan knows Brady’s right, that Morgan worrying isn’t going to do anything, so he tries to calm his thoughts. He focuses on helping Brady with inventory, fiddling with the record book and quill in his hands.

Another hour passes, and a horn is sounded, signifying Lucina's return. Morgan stands up quickly, knocking over the inkwell and spilling ink all over the floor. He ignores Brady’s annoyance, and rushes out of the supply tent, just in time to see Nah landing in the middle of the camp. She is quick to detransform, her face panicked, voice loud as she shouts for Brady. Minerva lands beside her, with Gerome and Severa and-

His heart drops to his stomach.

Lucina sits in between Gerome and Severa, leaning against the redhead, eyes closed, face a deathly shade of white. Gerome dismounts Minerva, already taking Lucina in his arms from Severa when Morgan gets to them.

"What happened?!" Blood seeps through Lucina's clothes from a wound cutting across her chest and through her armor.

"Outta the way!" Morgan hears Brady, who comes up from behind, pushing him to the side. He quickly accesses Lucina, before barking orders at Gerome to get her to the medical tent.

Morgan hurries after Gerome and Brady to the medical tent, where Gerome sets Lucina down on one of the cots, and strips her of her armor to give Brady better access to her injuries. Brady is quick to get to work, staff in hand as he begins repeating a mantra of healing spells, a trail of white magic escaping from his free hand as it hovers over Lucina and into her wounds.

"Brady her arm-" Morgan chokes out. Lucina's right arm, her sword arm, is broken, bent at an unnatural angle. He notices another injury on Lucina's shoulder too, a deep gash cutting through her clothes that he can see where her skin is cut.

He feels like he’s going to throw up.

The more he looks at Lucina, the more injuries he starts to notice, and the more he begins to spiral into a jumble of anxiety-ridden thoughts.

What if she already lost too much blood?

What if Gerome brought her back too late?

What if she-

"Morgan I need ya to leave." Brady’s voice breaks through his distress, and Morgan snaps his attention back to the blond.

“I’m not-”

“You’re hovering and you’re getting antsy.” Brady points out, not taking his eyes off Lucina. “I can’t concentrate if I have to worry about you having an anxiety attack while you watch me. Gerome, take him outside.”

Gerome grabs at his arm, and Morgan doesn’t resist as his friend leads him out of the medical tent. Morgan shakes off his friend’s hand and sets himself down on a wooden crate outside the tent, refusing to move. Gerome leaves him there, walking away to (Morgan assumes) tend to his wyvern. Laurent arrives, nodding to Morgan in greeting before he enters the tent to assist with healing.

Over the course of an hour (maybe two, Morgan isn’t keeping track of time), the rest of his friends and the soldiers that had gone with Lucina filter through. 

Kjelle with a fractured leg, Severa with broken ribs, Inigo with a concussion, and Gerome and Nah with arrows lodged in them. They all have more injuries on their bodies, but none so in a state as bad as Lucina's.

“Hey.” a bowl of soup is shoved into his view, and he lifts his head to see Nah in front of him. “Here.”

“I don’t want any,” he says, his stomach still in knots as he waits for Brady to emerge from the tent.

“And I’m not asking.” the Manakete pushes the bowl into his hands. “You need to eat.” She sits down next to him, staring at him until her gaze becomes almost unbearable, and he eats a few spoonfuls of soup to get her to stop staring at him.

The soup is bland and watery, the carrots undercooked, the meat tough, and the potatoes turned into mush. He forces himself to consume at least half of it, to alleviate the concern on Nah’s face.

They’re both quiet, and Morgan notices Nah’s shoulders and right arm are wrapped in bandages.

“How’s your-” he motions with a hand.

“Better with Laurent’s help,” she answers. “He said I should be fine in a day or two. Just needs to rest.”

“That’s good.” they’re silent again. Normally, Morgan would be carrying the conversation, but right now…

“Lucina will be alright.” Nah speaks suddenly, “She won’t let herself get killed by something like that.”

“What… did happen?”

“There wasn’t a lot of Risen at first.” Nah explains, “But then more and more started showing up, and we found out there was a dark mage. Lucina was their target and-... well, you get the picture.” 

A dark mage…

Brady emerges from the tent, and Morgan bolts up to his feet, uncaring about the bowl of soup spilling to the ground.

“Brady- Lucina- is she-?”

“She’s doing fine.” Brady answers, “You can stop worrying. She’s awake.” that’s all Morgan needs to hear, and he pushes past Brady and enters the tent. It’s almost empty by now, with only a few healers and soldiers still inside. 

He sees Lucina, color returned to her face, sitting upright in the cot, with Gerome standing by her bedside. Like Nah, the two of them have their injuries wrapped in bandages. She turns her head, and when she sees him, her gaze softens. 

Morgan walks over to her, and all but collapses at her side. Fear and relief overwhelm him, and he starts to cry. Lucina doesn’t say anything, reaching over to pull him into a hug, despite her injuries, to comfort him.