#and I'd just have to sit there and internally seethe like 'no- I don't want your random garbage carrot >:('

[curiousconejo]

Your take on carrots and variants?

Pretty good! Not amazing, I mean I prefer them as an ingredient- tbh tho I got kinda sick of them at one point! I can't tell you how many times strangers assumed I must LOVE carrots just 'cuz I'm like a rabbit >.<

[toomuchracket]

mads i want to know how the tension between d word matty and girly during new years. specifically cause i know that charli and george had a party🙈

i'll write a smut kinda on this vibe nearer christmas, but this made me think about the first new year before you start properly seeing each other!! ok let's be a little bit evil here. yes, they have a party, but they don't announce it until the last minute and you have to be like "😟 i already told some of my friends i'd go out with them aw shit" - you say this to george when he and matty are in the office, and matty's internally like "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO", but he cheers up a bit when george is like "that's alright!! if you wanna come down at any time you're more than welcome" and you're like "oh i definitely will tysm". anyway, the night of... matty is lowkey moping around george's house before you get there, only perking up when you're referenced in conversations and going back to his drink the rest of the time; naturally, he gets a little bit tipsy, and cannot stop himself from replying to the also tipsy mirror selfie in the bar bathroom that you post on your insta story like "you look so good!! how's your night x". and you get all giggly at that (you are also tipsy) and reply "thank you 😚 no doubt you look good too!! and tbh it's so shit lol as soon as i've said happy new year to my friends i'm leaving and coming to you x" - matty's like "so you'll be here in like an hour? amazing. can't wait to see you x", and then he figures he should prob send a selfie in return, and swoons when you reply like "yeah i was right you look hot. see ya in a lil bit x". it's the flirtiest you've ever been with each other, and you're both really liking it. matty panics he's chanced it a bit too far when he meets you outside george's party, and hugs you then asks you if you had a new year's kiss, but you just giggle and shake your head like "everyone back there was mid. what about you?"; he's like "nah. there's nobody inside worth kissing", and his knees honest to god go a little bit weak when you boldly ask "what about outside?" (he's internally like rizz!! she has rizz!!). but he recovers enough to be like "oh, there's definitely someone, darling", and you smile so beautifully and whisper "good. i think so too", and you both lean in, and your hearts are racing, and you think you've never wanted someone so much, and you're juuuuuuuuust about to kiss each other when... ms xcx throws the front door open and says "BAAAAAABE you're here!!". she's so drunk she doesn't even register what you and matty were about to do, and she drags you inside to get you a drink and make sure you talk to everyone - matty's lowkey seething about her interrupting, but then you turn back to him and hold out your hand for him to take and he softens. you never quite get the perfect circumstances to retry the kiss again - there's always someone outside smoking or coming to sit next to you and whatnot - but it's still a nice evening for you and matty, both of you less inhibited by your feelings for the other; you end up falling asleep curled into each other on george's sofa, and in the morning he asks you to go for a drink with him properly at the end of the week. and we all know what happens from there... <3

[randomingoftherandomness]

Hello! I'd love a whumptober fic if you could/want to

A/N: This got me thinking; more Yuanzhi poisoning himself for

✨S C I E N C E ✨

--

"Zhi gongzi, I think you should stop."

Yuanzhi shivers from the chills and the sudden bolt of heat that burns itself through his veins. Breathing deeply, he does his best to regulate his internal skills, pushing out as much of the poison in his meridians as possible.

It works about as well as using a bucket of water to douse the flames of a burning house.

"Give me the next one." Yuanzhi commands. His attendant hesitates and Yuanzhi opens his eyes to glare weakly at him. "Give it."

With reluctance, his other attendant hands him the third bowl of viscous sludge that sticks in his mouth as it goes down.

"Should we get Jue gongzi?"

"And say what? You know Zhi gongzi would--"

Handing the bowl back to waiting hands, he clears his throat, blinking rapidly through the swimming colours in his eyes. "If any of you disturb my Ge about this, I'll use your guts as strings for my traps."

The threat must have worked. His attendants bow their heads and carefully switch out the trays. Yuanzhi resists the urge to roll his eyes. He didn't purge the Herb Elixir from his system just so that he could fail while running this experiment.

Yuanzhi pushes through the buzzing growing louder in his ears. Sweat drips down the line of his spine, pooling at the base. Darkness prickles and spots in the edges of his vision. Yuanzhi feels his consciousness slip.

Pressure builds in his chest. He coughs, retching a little and throws up nothing but clear liquid.

"How many more?"

"Another two trays, my Lord."

Yuanzhi spits out a mouthful of bile. Swishing his mouth with some salt water, he sits up and nearly falls. One of his attendants immediately rushes forward to slip behind him, quickly pressing on his acupoints.

"Zhi gongzhi, please..."

"Shut up! You know nothing," Yuanzhi seethes, teeth clacking together as he is wrecked by a fresh wave of chills. Delirium seizes him. "If I don't learn how these poisons can interact with each other, how can I be of use to my Gege? What good would I be--"

"What good would you be then if you're dead?"

Yuanzhi stills. At the door of his laboratory is his gege in all his dark and dangerous glory. To his side is another one of his attendants looking decidedly guilty and fidgeting. Guts and strings, Yuanzhi thinks venomously. Guts and strings, and he's going to use it in his latest prototypes that blow up.

Shangjue gege narrows his eyes at the attendant behind him who promptly scrambles away, bowing quickly as he goes. Yuanzhi doesn't fight him when he takes over, hauling him back to lean against gege's front.

"Leave us." Shangjue gege commands. Yuanzhi turns his face to the side, swallowing tightly when gege wraps his arms around his waist. "Are you willing to talk now?"

Yuanzhi stays silent just to be spiteful.

Behind him, he feels gege sigh helplessly, before he is dipped into a brief press of their lips. "What--" Quick fingers push a familiar tasting medicine into his mouth and a strong, sword-calloused palm closes over his bottom jaw, holding fast.

When Yuanzhi pulls away, he tries to climb away from gege, only to be dragged back in. "Stop fighting me!" Gege growls, taking advantage of Yuanzhi's instinctual deference to obey him to push some of his inner energy into him to help the Herb Elixir detoxify.

"Don’t waste your energy like that, it won’t do anything for me,” Yuanzhi grumbles, wiggling to the side. “The poisons I took are meant to attack my meridians. If I receive any external help, it’ll only make it worse.”

Shangjue gege relaxes his hands down to Yuanzhi’s hips in a loose hold.

“Tell me what you need.”

Lips twitching, but determined to not let the bitter amusement show, Yuanzhi coughs, waving his hand at the trays of poisons still left to consume. “Keep passing me the rest.”

“Are you sure—“

“Do you or do you not want to know the effects of the Maze of Memories? “Were you or were you not the one who promised the Wen family that you’d bring their daughter a cure for it?” Yuanzhi cuts him off, sitting forth with a weak huff. “I was one tray left from simulating the side effects and at this stage I’ll need to double up.”

The comforting heat and weight behind him slides away. When Shangjue returns, it’s with the tray his attendant had left behind.

“I don’t want you to do this if it means sacrificing your health.”

Yuanzhi scoffs. “A little to late for that, gege.” Picking up a bowl, he toasts him mockingly. “To your health.”

Downing it all with a grimace, he has to squeeze his eyes shut when the taste lingers in his mouth. Shangjue appears at his elbow, pressing a cup of tea into his hand.

“Next one.”

Before he can drink this one, Shangjue holds him by the wrist.

“I feel like I owe you an explanation,” He starts. “Lord Wen and Lord Zhou have been great allies to our family through the years. This was a request that they and their heir, Young Master Zhang, personally asked of me. It would been hard to refuse.”

Yuanzhi nods. Sullenly trying to pull his hand out of his gege’s hold. He finds Shangjue gege once again refusing to let go.

“It is true that this is a cure for their daughter,” Gege continues, sitting down in front of him and carefully taking the bowl out of Yuanzhi’s hand. “Their very betrothed daughter who is set to wed the second young master of the Cao Sect.”

Yuanzhi snaps his head up at that. The information cuts through the fog in his head and he gapes at his gege, who very kindly doesn’t say a word and merely pats at the back of his hand.

He lets himself be gently folded into a warm hug. “Yuanzhi didi, if you could do me the small favour of not doubting my affection for you, I’d be ever so grateful.” Shangjue chuckles, tenderly running a thumb over his sweaty cheek. “You’re worth to me than an alliance with these two august personages in the jianghu.”

Yuanzhi purses his lips, tilting his head to eye up the remaining bowls.

“Ge, let go of me and feed me the rest. I hate the taste of cold poison.” Yuanzhi croaks, his voice bleeding into a rasping laugh when Shangjue’s brows knit into a magnificent frown. “You’ve staked my reputation and yours, too. I can’t let us down now.”

Shangjue gege battles for only a moment before his shoulders slump helplessly.

“Tell me if you need to vomit.”

[hazyletter]

flowers in spring, they bloom (just like my love for you)

"Hm."

Till startles when a hand takes a gentle hold of the side of his face, close to his bangs. He looks up from his sketchbook to see Ivan, with that crooked smile and stupid snaggletooth of his.

"What the hell do you want." Till deeply frowns at him, thumping the head of his mechanical pen on the surface of his drawing, already impatient.

Ivan merely raised a brow, and the slight perk of the sides of his lips is a telltale that he was clearly onto something idiotic once again. Till glares at him. Ivan stays unrelenting, continues to gaze down at him from where he sits on the window sill, the cherry blossoms on the side of the school carelessly falling and framing its white surface from outside.

It's a scene that Till is not looking back on, and he is not given any chance if he ever wanted to because Ivan guides his hands from Till's jaw, to caressing his cheek with a thumb, making its surface grow warm from the impact. Till purposefully rounds them with air on the inside and gets a hold of Ivan's arm, tightly.

"I said," Till glowered. "What the hell are you doing."

Ivan ignores him, does not acknowledge that Till did not in fact repeat his first statement like he should be, and pulls his arm up, plays with a couple of his locks, and puts them between his fingers. He takes his time to gather them all up behind his index's knuckle and with the normality of an affectionate persona, tucks them all behind Till's ear.

Till can feel the collision of skin on his ear's shell, and he resists a shiver, his hold around his mechanical pen tightening. It takes no genius to notice how red he'd gotten, even with his head tilted towards his sketchbook on his lap in which he also gripped on. He does not see Ivan's expression that way, but he feels the other's hand staying on the tips of his crimson ears, until they finally leave.

Till takes a deep breath with closed eyes, letting the rush of wanting to deck Ivan in the face flood through his veins, and he looks up with hands balled into a fists, scaldingly sharp daggers in his eyes locked and loaded, but the sight of a triumphant Ivan drowns it all as if his hearing was filled with water, the already silent muttering around the library now curiously deafening.

Till lets himself guide his hand towards his ear, and there he feels the surface of a solid object tucked with his hair. He follows its figure and it does not take long for him to figure out it was a flower, one that he knows all too well by now.

He sucks in a breath as he pulls his gaze back towards a waiting Ivan, with that stupid, idiot, ridiculous, giddy smile of his as he holds out a bouquet of big, bright anakt flowers with a white and grey wrapper with intricate spirals and dots of leaves and flowers on them.

"W..what..." Till internally swears at the stutter of his voice, but it falls second and behind his thumping heart when Ivan grins, with that glee in his eyes that seemed to brighten the black spiral of it, and all it reflects is the flustered, crazy look Till has. He covers his face, drops it onto his empty hand, but a laughing Ivan pulls it away with a soft grasp on his chin.

"You're so cute, Till." Ivan is reeling with happiness, the crescents his eyes make would have probably risen towards the roofs if it were ever possible. "I'd like to take you right here, right now if you weren't so busy." He tilted his head with an innocent cheer around his voice.

"W-W-What the fuck...!" Till seethes, letting go of his mechanical pencil to slam both of his palms on top of Ivan's mouth. "Don't fucking s-say that out loud, you prick!!" He whisper-yells, quickly looking left and right to see if no one had heard or was currently watching them.

"Boo..." Till feels Ivan's pout on his hand. Then, a kiss on his left, followed by a lick.

"Urk..!" With a disgusted twist on his face, Till pulls them away, but his right is quickly snatched by Ivan, and he puts it close to his jaw, shamelessly nuzzling it like a cat. "You're so fucking weird..."

Ivan hums, eyes closed. "You love me." He then opens them, bores his stare on Till's whole figure, and kisses his quickening pulse while keeping its twinkling state steady.

Till clicks his tongue, looking away with a glare. "I question why every day."

Ivan pouts. "No, you don't. It's our anniversary, you can't push me away."

Till flinches at the reminder, even if he had already known the moment he touched the flower that is still on his ear, and he ignores the feeling of his face erupting into flames once again. "Who the hell decided that."

"Me." Ivan dramatically bats his eyelashes, making doe eyes that disgusts Till even further he has the urge to kiss the other until he never speaks ever again.

And so he does, and is welcomed by the satisfied hum of Ivan in between it, like a dog finally getting its treat after so many tricks. An imaginative mind is all it takes to see the bastard's tail thumping and shaking left and right behind him.

On the back of his mind, Till reminds himself that they are still in a public place, even if he specifically chose a spot that is on a secluded part of the library, but the smell of flowers beside him, the chuckle that Ivan releases when Till's grip on his sleeve tightens as he pushes his lips towards the latter even further, the easy glide of Ivan interlocking their hands together—it all stops any coherent thought in Till's mind.

He stays there, even as Ivan insufferably lays his whole upper body on Till's lap with arms flapping and his legs awkwardly bending to fit his tall figure on the window sill, making Till pull on his sketchbook and mechanical pencil with a yell, then immediately smacking it right dab on Ivan's face.

He does not let go of Ivan's hand even when the latter's eyes go wide with fake, glistening tears as he profusely pouted at how Till was so mean to him, and continues to hold onto it with Ivan dozing off on his shoulder, now sketching the bouquet that sits on his empty side as the school bell from outside the library signals the start of noon.

Till glances at the flowers, can mutely smell its familiar aroma, and when he steals another one towards Ivan's sleeping figure that is muttering incoherent syllables, Till lets his lips break into a small but indulgent smile before he glides his mechanical pen on the surface of his sketchbook once more.

if you'd like to continue to support this fic, it is on ao3 as well!

[portalhan]

congratulations for reaching 500 followers bubbie! using that seungsung pic is so wholesome 😭 i love them both 🥺✨💗 also can i request fake dating au with #4 and #50 for the dialogue for seungmin? fluff please! thank you and have fun writing 🫶🏻

pairing: kim seungmin x gn!reader

genre: fluff

selections: fake dating au, "i'm not jealous. why would i be jealous?", "do you love me the same way i do you?"

word count: 648 words

warnings: none

fae's notes: thank you keisy for requesting one from me 😭 this was very sweet and fun to write, i hope i did your vision of this enough justice!! also sorry this really did take a while i completely forgot how tiring holidaying is

you and kim seungmin are currently making a huge scene in the middle of a packed car dealership at the height of its weekend afternoom rush.

"i thought you loved me enough to invest in a new car for us, but you clearly don't," you spat, sharp gaze piercing through seungmin's. all he could do in the moment was seethe silently—breaths heavy, teeth gritted beneath pursed lips. "i thought i'd at least be worth a car that isn't covered in old pizza grease stains and coffee spills. i'm sorry," you snapped.

just half an hour ago, the two of you—best friends of 10 years—had convened in front of the most well-known car dealership sitting in the heart of the city, putting your devious plan into motion. seungmin had just sold his first-ever car only a couple days prior—the one his parents passed on to him when he was a freshly minted licensed driver at 18, a rickety 10-year-old toyoto corolla—on a whim, but suddenly decided soon after that he wanted it back because it held too much sentiment for him. that's not what he said, though, he phrased it as him not wanting to unnecessarily let his parents down by selling away the car they gifted him like him his, and also that he didn't have the money to get a brand new one. seungmin does have a notorious track record of being a practiced liar.

"seems like you love that stupid, batty old thing more than you love me," you huffed, chin titled up high dramatically, eyes avoiding his gaze. you immediately heard seungmin scoff behind you soon after. "it sounds to me like you're just jealous of that car," he accused.

you snapped your head back around to gasp in his face. "i'm not jealous, why would i be jealous?" your voice is raised several octaves higher than it originally is at the point, while you internally hoped this would drive the employees to lower the asking price like seungmin had wanted all along.

"you tell me."

"why don't you tell me. do you even love me the same way i do you?"

seungmin exploded into fake hysterics in response to your absurd question. he made a huge fuss, stomping around the dealership while more onlookers started whispering to each other about what was going on, telling the staff about how he even once had dinner with your mother and got her 7-11 dessert – very untrue – as an example of why he has been the greatest boyfriend. he snuck you a cheeky wink executed so quickly and smoothly that it would have completely missed you if you weren't as alert as you were then. was that the slightest glint of a smirk there? you fought a creeping smile back down as you willed yourself to follow through with your act.

shortly after seungmin's "meltdown", the manager of the store stormed out of the back office to put a stop to the scene. "alright, alright, let's settle down," the man, donning a bright blue polo shirt as the dealership's uniform, said, after quietly discussing with his subordinates about a plan to get a hold of the situation. "have a seat, please," the middle-aged man said, firm, as he gestured the two of you to his back office. let's talk numbers."

that day, you and seungmin emerged from the clear glass doors of that dealership as proud victors – with the rusted keys to his old car spinning around his index finger and your arm linked with his other, you both skipped over to the car, ripped off the "on sale" sticker from the windshield and drove off into the sunset. it was a bumpy ride with a clanky engine that needed three restarts, over to your favourite curry place for a celebratory meal, but neither of you would have it any other way.

[mypoisonedvine]

Omg but imagine after love bites she's cheering at a game and there's a new kid who doesn't know who she's with and he won't shut UP about how hot she is and how he's gonna ask her out after the game and eddie is 2 seats above him just SEETHING and has to be held back from just leaping down and strangling this dude lmaoo I love these characters, he would be so jealous

He could hear Jeff telling him to ignore it, that it wasn't worth it-- that a transfer student who didn't know any better wasn't worth it.

And he was right, but Eddie could barely listen to the calming voice of his friend as he glared forward at that kid who had no idea what he'd just gotten himself into.

Eddie was used to all eyes on his girl; and he knew that not all those eyes had chaste intentions. But looking is free, and he didn't feel threatened by anyone else's interest at you-- in fact, when possible, he tried to take it as a compliment. It feels good to have something everyone wants and know that it's yours.

But what doesn't feel good is hearing some punk kid say such filthy things about your girlfriend-- your angel, the love of your life.

The first "wow, she's hot" wasn't too bad, on paper... but the way he said it just didn't sit right with Eddie. He tilted his head to the side, cracking his neck, when the kid said something he didn't catch entirely about your legs. He didn't need to head all of it to know he didn't like it.

"Nice pair, too," Eddie heard him mumble to his friend, and his teeth started grinding together. I hope you're talking about her eyes, kid, for your sake...

Only when he felt Jeff grab his wrist did he notice that his hand was balled into a fist. If the offending student had been sitting in the row right in front of him, Eddie would've already pummeled him-- but he was two rows ahead, and yet Eddie was still considering reaching over and dragging the kid back by the scruff of his neck so he could make sure everyone knew that was his girl up there.

You gave a high kick with a smile, and any other night Eddie would be clapping his hands together and cheering you on-- you liked to tease him for being a cheerleader for a cheerleader himself. Instead, Eddie's hands were over his face, clasped in front of his nose as he looked at you and tried not to think about anything else. "Oh, I hope she does that again," the transfer junior groaned, "I wanna see up her skirt--"

"Hey!" Eddie barked, but with the roar of the stadium, he wasn't audible even just two rows away.

"God, the things I'd do to her--"

Losing his patience, Eddie stood up just as much as he needed too and reached over to grab the kid's shoulder. He turned around with a confused look on his face that Eddie would just love to introduce to his fist, but he composed himself.

"Watch what you say about her," Eddie warned him.

"What?" the junior scoffed. "It's none of your business, man."

"That's my girl," he informed him sternly, but another great cheer move (that Eddie had missed because of this dumbass kid) made the crowd clap and whoop, leaving Eddie inaudible again.

"What?" the kid yelled, a genuine expression this time.

"That's my girl," Eddie yelled back, a little too loud now that some of the noise had died down.

The junior looked at you, and then at Eddie, and then at you again, and finally looked at Eddie with a huge grin. "Her?!" he chuckled. "Yeah, sure."

"I'm her boyfriend," Eddie insisted.

"You...? Come on, get real-- that's never gonna happen."

Eddie took a deep breath, shutting his eyes for a moment. Getting expelled for strangling a mid-adolescent after all this work to finally graduate would be such a waste...

"Seriously, watch it," Eddie warned him, sitting back down.

"Okay," the kid promised facetiously, rolling his eyes as he turned to watch you again.

Don't do it, he's just a kid, Eddie instructed himself internally, he's just a kid... don't do anything stupid, Eddie...

The kid leaned closer to his friend, but he still wasn't quiet enough for Eddie not to hear: "Do you think she'd go out with a junior?"

Splashing his face in the deserted bathroom, Eddie hoped he could wash those words out of his ears. The only way he'd been able to stop himself from obliterating that kid was by all but running out of the gym, hiding here in the men's bathroom and staring at his reddened face in the mirror.

He couldn't figure out why it bothered him so much. The kid had no chance with you, so it wasn't like he was worried about competition. And this was far from the first time another guy had had a crush on you... who could blame them? Popular, sweet, pretty as all get out-- there wasn't much to dislike.

Eddie spent the rest of the game laying on the empty football field, smoking a joint to try to soothe himself. It was working, but not quite fast enough. He was still almost ready to go back in there and make that loser pay for talking about you with so little respect. I wanna see up her skirt, god, Eddie saw red when he heard that.

He knew the game was over when he heard the sound of students pouring out into the parking lot; he lifted his head up just long enough to see the wave of people exiting the gym from across the field, before sighing and laying down completely again, taking a long inhale of the joint and watching his cloud of smoke float up into the sky when he let it out.

He heard footsteps coming closer a few minutes later, and turned his head to see you approaching. He smiled, and you picked up your pace until you jogged right up to him and collapsed onto the ground by his side.

"Hey," you greeted, resting your head on his shoulder. "Where'd you go? I didn't see you for the entire second half..."

He shrugged, not sure what excuse to offer yet. "I just came out to smoke. Needed to clear my head."

You smirked a little bit, and he raised one of his eyebrows. "Clear your head, huh?" you nodded. "Does that have anything to do with the new kid who just tried to ask me out after the game-- who was sitting right in front of you at half time?"

Eddie coughed, thankful he could at least try to blame it on the weed. Nothing gets past you, he knew that, but he was almost impressed that kid actually had the balls to ask you out like that. Shit, even Eddie hadn't been able to do that until a month into seeing each other in secret.

"I mean, at least he stayed to watch my whole game," you noticed, "maybe I should take him up on it."

Eddie sat up, tossing the joint aside to grab you by the waist. "God, honey, don't even joke about that."

"Sorry," you giggled, "you know you have nothing to worry about."

"What did you say to him?" Eddie wondered.

"I told him that I have an amazing--" you kissed Eddie's cheek-- "sexy--" you kissed the other-- "badass boyfriend that he would have to answer to if he hit on me again."

Eddie smiled and kissed you on the lips, holding you a little tighter. "That's my girl," he praised, grinning into the kiss.

"Yeah," you sighed, "your girl, Ed..."

He hummed proudly just before slipping his tongue into your mouth. It was the way you moaned when he kissed you deeper, that was what made him start to move his hand lower and lower, until it was sliding up your thigh under your skirt. "Say that again," he ordered in a whisper.

"Your girl," you repeated, whimpering when his middle finger dragged slowly over the seam of your cunt through the mini-shorts under your skirt. "Fuck, Eddie-- somebody could see..."

"They're all the way over there," he shrugged, smiling when he found your clit-- even through all those layers, when you were turned on, it wasn't hard to find.

"But they can still see," you insisted, glancing nervously at the crowd just across the field.

"What if I want them to see?" he purred. "You're not gonna tell me to stop, are you?"

You shook your head.

"Of course you won't," he whispered, kissing down your neck as he slipped his fingers inside the fabric-- finding you soaked for him, hearing you gasp as he teased your folds. "You don't want me to stop, sweetheart, because it feels too good, right? It feels good to be my girl, doesn't it?"

"So good, Eddie," you agreed, reaching down to grab his wrist when he pressed down hard on your clit. It wasn't a sign to stop, just a sign that he was pushing it-- but he wanted to push it. He needed to make you come and he didn't want to kill any more time.

If he'd been sober, he would've just started with one finger, but he was stoned and emotional and he had something to prove; he slipped two fingers inside you at once, making you gasp loudly and squeeze his wrist tightly with one hand while the other had an iron grip on his shoulder.

"F-fuck, Eddie," you whined, starting to rock your hips and try to ride his fingers. Even when he was worried it would be too much for you, you always wanted more-- one of the many things he loved about you. He smiled and curled his fingers inside you, rubbing that rougher spot that made your eyes roll back. "Oh god-- fuck, is anyone looking?"

Eddie glanced over at the crowd-- he barely had the will power to look away from you but he did it somehow-- and didn't notice anyone staring in your direction. They were all busy finding their cars or getting picked up in somebody else's, not noticing the head cheerleader out on the field with her boyfriend's hand inside her skirt.

"What if they were?" Eddie asked you coyly. "What if they saw how I make you feel with just my fingers-- what would you do?"

"I..." you stalled, whimpering as he twisted his fingers inside you. "I wouldn't do anything."

Groaning loudly, Eddie started to really fuck his fingers into you then, as deep as they could go with his rings on. You went limp, and he held you up with his left arm under your back while the right was obviously busy. His lips latched onto your neck, his tongue tracing your pulse while he felt your pussy clench down tight around him.

"I'm close," you whimpered, "I'm so close..."

"Already, babe?" he chuckled, and you whined in that way he knew meant I hate that you're making fun of me right now but please don't stop.

"Yes," you breathed, "yes, I... I like when you get jealous."

He raised an eyebrow at that, trying not to lose his speed while he held this conversation with you. "You like seeing me lose my mind over you, is that it?"

"I..." you sighed, moaning in between your words, "I like when you remind me..."

He wasn't making it easy for you to talk, not when he refused to relent his pace, but he was so close to making you come and he wasn't about to stop now.

"I like when you remind me who I belong to," you finished, and he laughed.

"Sweetie, I do that all the time... you don't need to go around getting asked out by other guys for that," he cooed. "Don't need to give me a heart attack, joking about saying yes. You know better than that, baby, you know I couldn't fucking take it if you left me--"

"Eddie, I would never--" you began, cutting yourself off with a moan. "Fuck, I'm sorry! I'm gonna come-- oh god..."

"Come on my fingers, honey," he encouraged softly, watching proudly as your head fell back with a cry of his name. "Shh, that's it," he soothed, "that's my girl, my good girl-- all mine, coming so hard just for me..."

Well, the orgasm itself might be just for Eddie, but when you sighed and relaxed under him as your orgasm faded, he glanced back towards the crowd of people and saw a familiar transfer student staring blankly in your direction. He was pretty far away, too far to be sure what he was looking at, but somehow Eddie could see the dumbfounded expression on his face. Eddie smiled and pulled his fingers out of you, careful not to move the fabric of your shorts too much so you could preserve a little modesty. Laying you down in the grass as you caught your breath, he guided you to close your legs before he sucked the sticky arousal off of his fingers.

Well, you wanted to see up her skirt again, didn't you, kid? Guess you got your wish.

[boop-le-snoot]

masterpost ☀️ main masterlist ☀️ taglist

previously on...

This chapter is very dialogue heavy. Stephen Strange being a little bit of a dick and Tony being a sweetheart. No warnings here, just plot and worldbuilding. I think Tony is his own warning to be honest... Do we want fun facts before each chapter like before or nah?

Sorcerer Strange stared at me with the heat of a plasma beam after I finished stuttering throughout my story, one accurate eyebrow raised and sharp cheekbones painting him displeased and dangerous in the yellow light of the store lamps. The whole experience shook me more than I would have liked to admit to myself and his mute reaction wasn't helping matters at all.

"Hmph," he finally cleared his throat, taking a step back and casting a thoughtful look over the shelves in the store. "You did all you could. Perhaps, we owe you gratitude," his tone was far kinder than his face. "How long have you been doing... This?" He vaguely gestured with a gloved hand.

"Long enough," I replied without thinking. My stress levels urgently rose above acceptable and the feelings needed to be let out now; Wong's dismissive attitude and Strange's half-assed apology for the attitude was still fresh in my mind.

The sorcerer sighed, briefly touching the bridge of his nose. "I won't pretend to understand the reason for your hostility but I'd like to remind you we're on the same side here," his steely blue eyes attempted to peer into my soul.

"There are no sides here," whatever he was selling, I wasn't buying it. "There are just people who get hurt, either because of unstable maniacs with superpowers or aliens who think Earth is an all-you-can-kill buffet," I stuck my dirty, bloody hands in my pockets. "You do your part in mitigating the damage, I do mine. That's all there is."

"And you would be making my job expotentionally harder if you get in the way and slow down professionals, even if you mean well," the man's temper had, evidently, won over and he immediately got on the defensive, crossing his arms and trying to glare me down.

Odette's words rang true, starting a storm of hollow anger in the pit of my skull. "Now listen here, you privileged prick," the damn burst at the seams as I squared up to give him a piece of my mind. "You and your Hogwarts rejects and the merry band of billionaires may have the opportunity to 24/7 healthcare and near-instant compensation for any damages the villain of the week decides to bestow upon your shallow little heads," I advanced half a step towards Strange, hands bailed into tight fists, internally rejoicing at the way he leaned back. My blood sang with adrenaline as I breathed the exhilaration.

"But how many people do you overlook? How many children never make it because your super secret organisation gives their parents an ultimatum just because they are different? This is a safe space for the ones you pretend not to see until it's convenient and it will stay that way, over my fucking dead body, if need be," I stared at the tall man, almost physically feeling his brain halt and pause with the cartoony sound of screeching tires. Whatever he was expecting, it wasn't this.

A pregnant pause hung in the air, both of us waiting for the other to explode.

"Don't you think I am aware," Strange finally seethed through gritted teeth, alarming golden sparks shining in his eyes. "The Avengers are not under the rule of SHIELD and I, personally, have no affiliation with either. I do not condone their barbaric methods," the man was struggling to form his sentences properly but even despite that, I understood his ideas.

I desperately wanted to believe his words to be true, I really did, but... "Then do your fucking job and let me do mine. I do not go out there and intervene, I merely clean up the mess you all leave. Something that nobody wants to do do, so unless you've got any takers, I'll keep helping those you deem unfit," in a fit of muted rage, I flew my arm to point at the abandoned cars and destroyed concrete outside of the window, the empty street and the clouds of dust rising into the moody skies.

The entrance door flew open suddenly, with a force strong enough to bang the heavy, old handle against something outside, letting in the stuffy air inside the bodega. Strange jumped at the sound of the screaming hinges, my own heart skipping a beat from the startling interruption.

Visibly composing himself, the man pierced me with a final stare before starting a dangerously quiet, "Very well, goodbye," and hightailing it out of Odette's before disappearing in a golden circle just outside the front porch.

I let my shoulders sag for a brief moment of respite, feeling the tension bleed out of me and penetrate every nook and cranny in the room. My protection charms were mostly destroyed, silver dull, glass and amber crackled. Tossing them into the appropriate recycling bin, I set to clean up the shop, flying through the motions in record time and wandering home through the damaged streets on autopilot.

My anger had cost me more than a fortune in my past but no matter how much I sought to reason with myself, I couldn't bring it to justify Strange's attitude towards my choices. The more I thought about it, the less rational my guesses became; I forced myself to stop thinking about it when my brain had unhelpfully supplied an absurd notion of him being jealous of my lifestyle: he knew next to nothing of my skills and his opinion was based solely on seeing me work the store front and one cleansing spell I'd performed on Bucky. There was simply no rational explanation for his behaviour.

NYC life wasn't affected by the battle in the slightest, it seemed; a day and a half later, I was back at Jeremy's, serving overpriced hot beverages to the rich and the busy. I'd slept on the Bucky and Strange situation, got a handle on my feelings and decided to simply put it away. There were other, more pressing things to worry about than a couple of men.

I didn't expect the flood of anxiety that turned my hands to lead upon seeing Tony Stark's signature suit-and-sunglasses wearing ass waltz into the café. He flashed me his usual easy grin but didn't remove his glasses, eyes eerily blank behind them, as he motioned for his usual order before leaning on the countertop with the entirety of his upper body. "So, Starshine, what is it exactly that you do?" Came the question I was dreading. "Are you, like, a witch? The broomstick and cauldron kind?"

"Mr. Stark, I am serving you coffee and a muffin as we speak," I replied curtly, raising an eyebrow.

"Drop the act, honeybuns. I thought we were friends," if I squinted, I could see that he was genuinely hurt by my lack of desire to communicate. Or, perhaps, he simply was unused to not satisfying his curiosities immediately.

Either way, I stood no chance against Stark patented puppy eyes. "I clock out at two," a sigh of epic magnitude left my mouth against my will. "You can interrogate me then. Until that, it's lattes and cheesecakes only."

Tony narrowed his eyes, smile warming up by a smidgen. "Interrogate you? Never," he pocketed the napkin with Dr. Banner's scribbles the doc had forgotten last time. "I'm merely curious." Another flash of his teeth and he was gone, taking what little peace I had left along with him.

The hands on the clock made their hurried rounds over and over. My chest had grown it's own set of ticking, grinding, mismatched gears as the endless possibilities coursed a steady stream through my head. Tony Stark was a wild card, his struggles with authority a widely known fact, as frequent as his strange habits in just about anything. And while I doubted I would get ambushed and locked up, I had no qualms of him berating me for telling off his boyfriend. He seemed like the possessive, overprotective type, anyways.

As soon as I exited the café, surrounded by the smells of flour and coffee grounds, my eyes immediately landed on the shiny, brand new Audi illegally parked right in front of the establishment, it's owner leisurely leaning against the hood with a face of contented boredom as passerby pedestrians shamelessly ogled him and his ride. His face lit up as he noticed me, immediately rushing to hold the passenger side door open for my comfort. "M'lady," the dorky remark didn't fail to summon a smile to my face even if it was a weak shadow of my usual camaraderie.

"Mr. Stark," I greeted him as soon as he peeled off the crowded sidewalk.

The lack of joy on my face didn't go unnoticed by him and every now and then, he snuck a glance at my face. "Relax, Starshine, I won't bite."

"Well," I mumbled, remembering the vicious way I had torn into his boyfriend. "Good to know."

Seeing as that didn't do much for my nerves, he suddenly swerved right, rushing into a busy intersection with the ease of a practiced manic driver. "I'm feeling like a cheeseburger," he announced unceremoniously, pulling into a parking lot of some place I never noticed.

I doubted that I could swallow anything at all but relented, sitting down opposite him in the furthest booth from the entrance. I ordered the biggest milkshake they had as Tony grinned big at the waitress, finally taking off his sunglasses when she left for the kitchen.

I rested my elbows on the table under the scrutiny of his gaze. He kept quiet. I couldn't hold back my curiosity any more. "So?"

His sharp, clever brown eyes captured and held mine for the longest second in my life. I struggled not to break eye contact until he relented, focusing on the shine of my rings instead. "RoboCop almost died from the shit that happened to him," Tony's words were curt. I inhaled sharply, assuming he was talking about Barnes. The engineer's fingers began to fiddle with his glasses. "We couldn't figure out how you helped him. Not the medical, not Banner, not me and and not even Steph," he paused to run a hand through his hair. "Barnes was hit with a poisoned arrow. There were no toxins left in his body, not even a single inflammation marker showed up on the tests." With that, Tony expectantly turned to me.

I chewed on my lip in contemplation. "Magic," I simply answered, figuring Strange had already briefed him about my occupation.

Tony shook his head with a snort. "Magic that the Sorcerer Supreme doesn't recognize or cannot detect?" The question was saved in nature.

Stephen Strange was Sorcerer Supreme and I had pissed him off and remained alive. I couldn't believe my luck, if Odette's stories were anything to go by. Inwardly rejoicing, I nonetheless resigned to answer truthfully. "Because there is nothing to detect, no foreign energy," I tried to phrase it in a way a scientist could understand. "What I use to heal, it is given me by nature and willingly. Think of me as a... Conductor. I merely store the energy short-term and direct it where it is needed."

That sparked a visible interest in Tony. He leaned forward, running my whole form, over and over, with his sharp eyes, searching for something I knew he wouldn't find. "Like... Making a blood transfusion?" It was obvious that he was thinking hard about the subject. "Like a successful organ transplant?"

"Something like that," I agreed amicably, seeing as he was talking at himself rather than engaging in a conversation with me.

"But it doesn't come from nothing, the first law of thermodynamics..." He started off in slight confusion.

"Yes, the total amount of energy remains constant," I interrupted him, making his eyes widen. "It's all around us, Mr. Stark. You cannot see it, and most people even cannot feel it, but mother Earth supports her creations. More than we like to think," the corner of my mouth tilted upward at the memories. Working with Gaia directly was like being briefly submersed in a cocoon of pure, warm sunshine; like being held in mother's arms as a babe. "She is kind and she is merciful, especially to the ones whose suffering is unjust," I let the man mull over my words.

The waitress brought our orders; my throat was parched, I took a few haste gulps of the chocolate milkshake. Tony's burger, however, remained unnoticed and untouched.

"Earth is a sentient organism?"

The question made my eyebrows rise; I coughed slightly, meeting his confused eyes with a smirk. "Mr. Stark, keep your science headcanons to yourself," the banter came easily now that the status quo was established.

He rolled his eyes, fitfully resisting the smile tugging at his mouth. "I'm telling on you to Mean Green," there was no malice behind his words.

I doubted the shy scientist would do much more than stutter out two jumbled questions but let the topic slide in favour of closing up on the issue. "Would you call a wolf sentient? No," I shook my head. "But it is autonomous, it has free will. Think of it like that," I wasn't really up to par on explaining Tony all the ins and outs of my craft. The more I spoke, the more questions danced in his eyes. It was charming but not something I wanted to spend most of my day on.

"I won't pretend to be anything but sceptical but as it is, I happen to be dating a wizard," the engineer finally chortled, making hands for his burger. He made a vague gesture with his fork, expression still not-quite out of the thinking place.

"They say opposites attract," I shrugged.

"Romanoff keeps saying we're two sides of the same coin, so," he non-commitally shrugged in return. "Can't help but wonder what the fuck did you tell him that day. He was seething," Tony raised an eyebrow, tone teasing.

"Oh lord," I briefly palmed my face. "Here comes the shovel talk."

"No, no," a fry landed on the table in front of me. I snatched it right from under Tony's hand. He pouted. "He probably deserved it. I mean, you saved the Terminator and, honestly," he paused. "I heard about one third of his rant and I distinctly remember something about 'girls way over their heads' and whatnot," he did a poor imitation of his boyfriend's deep voice. "Now, I consider myself a feminist so, respectfully, I disagree," he finished with a self-satisfied smirk.

I blanked, trying to process the avalanche of information. "That's a lot to unpack," I acquiesced.

"It means he likes you. I would know," the man had the audacity to wink at me. And that, ladies and gentlemen, was Tony Stark.

"Are you hitting on me for your boyfriend?" I couldn't resist snarking back, briefly catching his eyes as I polished off my milkshake.

Tony looked at me through his thick, long lashes, a picture perfect visage of surprised innocence. "Maybe," his tone a little too south of friendly, the direction of his eyes a bit lower than my face.

The snort escaped me before I could put a stop to it. The banter - it was easy, comforting in this situation where I found myself to be akin a fish out of water. Like I was a slightly socially awkward witch, Tony was a genius engineer and a notorious flirt. He toed the lines of appropriate with practiced gusto and I hadn't had the heart to do anything but indulge in a little bit of harmless fun ever since he first stepped foot in the café, seeing right through his stone cold facade of an alleged womaniser. Call it a hunch, if you will.

Say what you want about Tony Stark but one thing was definite: he was a gentleman. I thoroughly enjoyed my ride home in his expensive, fast, latest model car. As the city streets zoomed by in a flurry of blurred lines and flashing colorful lights, I allowed my mind to finally calm and resume it's usual even wandering pace.

A hand loosely thrown over the steering wheel, Tony quietly hummed along to the music, playing with the hem of his tee whenever it wasn't occupied with driving the car. He looked so peaceful like that.

The sound system played some contemporary rock that blended in with the moderately busy afternoon of the NYC streets, submerging the surroundings in catharsis. Grey everything with the occasional burst of colour from a traffic light; the brief car ride lulled me into a state almost drowsy.

"You with me, Salem?" Tony's voice quietly took me out of my stupor.

I blinked, seeing the front door of my apartment building. "Yeah, yeah, thanks," I didn't resist the big, wide smile of relief and rejoiced upon seeing his face return to his normal expression, sparkling and mischievous. "That's my stop," I motioned lamely.

Something hung in the air, something unsaid. It leaked through the gaps between Tony's smile and his eyes, it filled up the car with something thick and foggy. I was powerless to stop its influence on me; the daze remained just as it was when we zoomed through city streets.

Tony's fingers twitched on the steering wheel as I exited the vehicle, giving him a short wave before he put pedal to the metal, quickly disappearing into the twilight. I watched his tail lights glow red amongst the flat blacks and greys and beiges of my surroundings, blinking away the dryness in my eyes only when the car disappeared from my view completely.

My apartment was just as I'd left it, warm and slightly messy- but a new feeling had crawled up from the very gutter of me, foreign and impending. The walls didn't breathe the comfort I had hoped I would finally find: if anything, none of what I encountered on my rapid beeline towards the couch felt real.

I'd grown accustomed to the comforts of my solitude and routine, to attached to the simplest task of being. Sorting through my dirty laundry had never been a favourable ordeal for me, I'd much rather lived in a relatively wide bubble- rationally, I knew that sooner or later, change had have to come, but there was nothing ever rational about having feelings on one matter or another.

My spirit was trying to tell me big things were coming and I had no choice but to listen and let the currents of fate and happenstance snatch me up and take me whichever way they pleased.

Taglist: @couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @xoxabs88xox

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 31

First time reader click here

it's a mental breakdown *off-key kazoo*. One (1) incident of physical abuse from a parent. And Stephen Strange arc begins opening. Kind of angsty, but more of a filler chapter to resolve the parents-suck thing.

A couple of days was all it took for me to get back on my feet... Figuratively speaking. Neither Bruce nor Tony was particularly excited about me being up and about, I was carried to my desired destination point by one or the other on most occasions. Physically, my body grew tired very easily - I took a lot of sporadic naps throughout the day, more often than not falling asleep in someone's arms. Nobody minded, really - even Loki, who wasn't a touchy-feely person by any means, relented and acted as a body pillow for me when we crashed on the common room couch to catch up with the TV show episodes I'd missed.

Tony was very obviously on the verge of a nervous breakdown. During the few hours I had spent being chased by the Cursed Box Demon in my nightmares, all the leads towards the contractor proved to be cold. Natasha was the most irritated of them all - a late-night talk with Clint through the vent above my room revealed that she took it as a personal insult, unprepared for a simple merc to be so good at evading the world's most notorious spy.

Hulk kept taking over Bruce's body - eyes shining fluorescent green - at the times we were together, periodically clutching me to his chest with clumsy but careful movements. I pitied the mercenary should he encounter my gentle scientist - I didn't think Bruce would even attempt to hold back Mean Green. They seemed to have achieved some sort of symbiosis those days, switching between the two personalities in one body almost effortlessly. Circumstances aside, I was very happy that the tension and the persistent internal conflict inside Bruce had almost disappeared.

What made me upset was Strange. The sorcerer was behaving, well, strangely. He began avoiding all of us - his excuses of helping the search for the merc were flimsy, and Wong's long, deep sigh, when asked about the sorcerer's state of mind, spoke volumes. I suspected Stephen was either seething with anger or drowning himself in the sea of guilt; I had a hunch he was similar to Tony in a way that he hid his vulnerability behind an impenetrable wall of malice and sarcasm and dry wit.

Perhaps I was wrong. But the pent up frustration resulting from the conflict between my overactive brain and my uncooperative body had to blow - and my mother was the fire to my already short fuse. Somehow, she got ahold of the information that I was hurt indirectly because of the actions of the Avengers - and she had called the first available phone she found, which meant Pepper Potts got an earful of vitriol regarding Stark Industries, SHIELD, Tony, and everyone else, including my father. Stoic as she was, Pepper took it all with grace, replying politely to my mother until she hung up on the redhead.

Pepper placed an urgent call to Coulson immediately after that, making the already uncomfortable situation spiral into something truly disgraceful. It ended with strict orders for me to return home - not that anyone besides me and Coulson knew about it. I was a legal adult, I could choose to stay in the tower and my mother was told so on numerous occasions... Knowing her, I was well aware she wouldn't be above storming Tony's home with a small army of her lawyer friends.

Inwardly seething, melting with the anger sitting in the pit of my stomach like a sharp piece of ice, I managed to convince Tony to have Happy escort me home at the guise of gathering more necessities. Tony, being Tony, offered me to buy anything and everything I needed, but relented under my puppy-eyed pleading. It was getting harder and harder to lie to any of my men, the weight of it settling unpleasantly bitter on top of my already foul mood.

Happy grumbled in displeasure at being tailed by a nondescript black SUV - I knew SHIELD would have eyes on me 24/7 now, at least until they catch the rogue mercenary - but seemed to be happy at my general state of relative wellness in his own... Happy... way. Five-second side-grin and "Glad you're up and about, Princess," was probably the most I was going to get from the man who's nickname contradicted his personality. In my humble opinion, he should've been called Brick instead. He was built like a shit house, too.

The moment I stepped into the living room, wearing Wanda's spare sweats and Tony's hoodie, I took a slow look around the room and immediately knew this was it. Most of my anger had receded, courtesy of finally being able to get out of the tower and do something, but the ice in my stomach persisted. The smell of whiskey and cigarettes hit me like a wall, news playing on the TV doing very little to dissolve the viscid, tense silence.

"Sit down," My mother instructed me in the tone of voice she used on people in the courtroom - convicts, people who knowingly broke NDAs.

"I don't think so," I replied, refusing to give in to her bullying. I was being absolutely reckless, I knew it, and still it didn't stop me from standing up for my men. Logically speaking, it could have happened to me anyway, Avengers or not. The cursed box came along long before I'd even met Peter Parker or any of his rag-tag superhero friends.

"Fine," She turned around, steely eyes leveled on me. I was but a speck of dirt under her nails - for the first time in my life, I felt terrified of my mother. I knew what she was capable of. "Listen well, daughter of mine. I'm going to only repeat myself once," She started in that deceptively calm tone of hers. "You are to stop mingling with Stark and his... Company. Immediately. I do not want to hear any more of that Parker boy, either. You will not destroy your future and our family's legacy over some fling with a man twice your age. This little game has gone long enough and it's time for you to get back to reality."

The more she spoke, the higher my eyebrows rose. I was supposed to take orders from my own mother now? Something thin, something thin and crackling with electricity within me just snapped - like a live wire. The hairs on my nape stood up, goosebumps appearing all over my skin. "And what if I do not?" I asked, just as quietly.

I was not prepared for her reaction. One second, she was sitting on the couch and the other - my cheek was burning and my mother was standing over me, breathing the stench of alcohol and tobacco right in my face. I saw the whites of her eyes. "Then you are no daughter of mine. I did not raise you to be someone's cumrag and all this play-pretend scientist shit had to have ended in middle school. I hoped you'd grow up but apparently, you insist on being a baby," She was full-on screaming in my face, so rabid she was shaking.

All I could think of was... How wrong she was. How wrong she would be, her sad little world broken when she finds out just exactly how much I'm capable of. Long gone were the days where I timidly questioned my scientific contributions; thanks to my men - the same men she'd hated so much - I knew my value. I knew I could achieve the things that I wanted.

"If that is your choice, you have thirty minutes to get your shit and get lost. I will not have a whore of a daughter living under my roof," I had missed a good part of her rant; most likely, it consisted of nothing but meaningless insults anyway. After she'd finished, she gave me a shove towards the stairs.

It didn't bother me as much as it should, I think. My cheek smarted and somewhere deep inside, I knew that the eerie calm that had settled over me wasn't normal - on the surface, I felt only relief. The things I suspected all along, finally came to light - she didn't even perceive me as a human being, I was no more than a means to her end. A tool. A thing.

The waterworks started when I frantically shoved most of the shit I could fit in my three suitcases. Upset as I was, my scatterbrain did me a favor that time and I gathered most of the important things. Notebooks full of my research - projects that my mother had called a child's game, projects that could be patented in a week, add a tweak or two. With sudden clarity, I realized I needed none of her money. None of her... At all. In short, I was emotionally all over the place and at the end of it... None of it made sense.

I threw the credit cards with her name on them on the coffee table as I hauled out my suitcases, not sparing the bitch a glance. She was equally quiet, boring into my back with those steely eyes of hers. I felt my skin peel under her stare. In my distraught state, hauling and dumping the suitcases in my car was quick work. Detaching the house key and tossing the last things that connected me to her house on the floor at her feet was a spur of the moment decision; my mother was right, to some extent, and I still had childish tendencies. "You had no right to call yourself my mother in the first place. All you were was an egg donor with more money than you could make sense of. Enjoy your hoard, you damned dragon," I seethed, seeing her frozen in place with her arms crossed and chin held high.

Some part of me hoped she would apologize. That naïve, childish part - I knew my mother and I knew myself, and the trait that we shared was stubbornness. I sped out of the estate without ever looking back, driving aimlessly for a while until the honking coming from drivers around me began reaching alarming levels of volume; tears began flowing down my face at some point, all but obscuring my vision. I parked in the nearest place I could find, in front of a Waffle House out of all places.

Crying in a Waffle House parking lot, how pathetic was that. Logically, I knew at least five people had my back: Tony and Bruce, who surprisingly loved me back; Loki, who had become strangely clingy after my declaration - clingy in the best way. Together with Wanda and Peter, they made my heart warm and my eternally racing brain feel calm and safe.

I called my dad, he didn't pick up. I don't know what I expected of the man, but any and all remnants of my respect for him shattered, breaking into tiny little pieces as I helplessly banged my fists against the steering wheel in a fit of desperate rage. One look in the mirror and my already ashen complexion was made worse by red, puffy eyes and the blooming bruise on my cheek where my mother had slapped me. It was the first time she'd laid a hand on me; I wanted to throw up.

I sat in the car until my breathing slowed; completely and utterly clueless as to what to do. I had no home of my own, three suitcases worth of clothes and research that was useless without a lab to run experiments in, my car, and a small trust fund in my name. The recent incident with the curse box had left me mentally drained as it was, now, I could surely say that my head was empty: no thoughts.

And throughout it all, Stephen's avoidance crossed my mind. As if the self-loathing wasn't enough, as if my own blood, the people who were supposed to care for me, rejecting and ignoring me wasn't strong enough of a blow... The sorcerer's avoidance raised more anger within me. I didn't know why but the thought of him made me want to cry and seethe once again.

Logic gone out of the window, I typed in the Sanctum's address into my GPS with shaking fingers, figuring that if he wasn't willing to do the legwork, I will come to him myself and clarify things for all at once. The mixed signals were just a cherry on top of my sky-high problem sundae.

I banged on the door and it flew open immediately, a surprised sorcerer quickly turning concerned and panicky, noticing my general state of appearance. I was still wearing the same clothes and my hair was in disarray, my face looking somewhere between a coke bender and a manic episode.

"You," I stated darkly, taking a deep breath. "You need to tell me what the fuck is wrong with me and reject me, so I can move on already. And you," I poked the man in the chest, right above the fancy eye-shaped necklace, "Need to stop it with the mixed signals. Stop wallowing in self-pity. Whatever you are doing, STOP IT," My voice involuntarily raised in pitch from all those emotional rollercoasters I've been on that day. "Get back to being normal. Let me fucking live," I finished my tirade as the man stared at me, frozen and open-mouthed.

"I..." He stammered, eyeing me with concern. "What in the multiverse happened to you? What..?" He was so confused, pulling out his phone the moment I bailed my fists.

"My mother threw me out, my father doesn't give a fuck about me, apparently I'm a cheap whore with delusions of grandeur. You're avoiding me and everybody is waiting for me to blow up," I screeched, all but vibrating in my spot. "This is me blowing up. I want answers!" I demanded.

Strange recoiled from me, frowning and pocketing his phone. A deep sigh left him, the kind that made his whole body sag. He ran a careful hand through his hair before looking away and slowly pulling me against his chest, the door shutting behind me and keeping the cold out. I hadn't even noticed I was freezing; my feet were wet from the NYC winter slush and mud.

Stephen's embrace was warm and tender; I wanted to lean into it and push him away at the same time. I was so messed up, it was embarrassing. There was nothing acceptable about this situation - I felt guilty as soon as his face fell.

"Jesus Christ, baby," He mumbled quietly. "Sounds like you had one hell of a day. Let's go, I'll put on some tea," He rubbed soothing circles on my back, something that confused me - I just had stormed in and dumped a bucket of bile right on top of his head.

"I should go," I mumbled, yet had no real strength to move away from him.

"You're not going anywhere. I suppose I need to explain myself, too," He sighed, and despite his obvious discomfort, picked me up, letting my limbs to wrap around his torso like a monkey. I was careful to keep my weight off his hands, even if the trip to the fireplace room was short. As soon as I was placed onto the couch and my shoes were removed, Cloaky drifted over from a dark corner, urging me to take off my soggy hoodie, and wrapped itself tightly around me.

Turns out, semi-sentient cloaks were quite warm.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95