#but other than that I'm fine... just supremely annoyed

[einaudis]

Hello... It's me... The one who planned to go see Challengers today... And couldn't because got sick!

[pochapal]

clocks changed and now it's bright out at 7pm

[yameoto]

HELL IS A (FUCKING) ROOMMATE. JORDAN LI.

synopsis ; your roommate has the libido of a goddamn animal and it's driving you insane. not to mention the fact they have an annoying habit of jerking off in your dorm. to you.

they want you? fine—they can have you. only on your terms, though.

✗ warnings ; dom!reader, sub!jordan. fem!reader, perv!roomate!jordan, dubcon, voyeurism, excessive masturbation (soz). wc ; 4.2k

YOU can do this. you can do this.

you grunt as you fumble for the key. cursing as, with an extreme lack of coordination—you begin to forcibly ram the bloody thing into the lock with the grace and precision of a sledgehammer. what you lack in motor control you make up for with inner beauty—or something.

the do not disturb sign rattles mockingly off the handle, meaning your roommate is definitely inside and definitely not helping out. you grit your teeth, entire body off kilter as you're preoccupied with balancing the boxes cramful of belongings in your arms; big and bulky and absolutely not helping your aim. you curse, loudly as they almost almost tumble out of your grasp the moment the key miraculously jams into place, jerking wildly to catch them. (note: super strength does not come with super-hand-eye-coordination.)

“fucking– stupid- key– fucking better– woah!” 

without warning, the door swings open, inwards. a montage of your entire life flits before your eyes as you hurtle forward, boxes and all. you just about barely manage to catch yourself with an undignified stumble before drawing yourself up; coming face to face with—oh.

two figures. bodies very noticeably.. inside. each other. naked. on, what you realise after a bout of disbelief; your fucking bed.

"what the fuck?"

one of them growls, mop of black hair flopping as their head snaps up, even though you're pretty sure you should be the one slinging expletives around. with a frustrated scowl they pull out of the dude, sending a withering glare to the poor guy they were fucking into the bedspread—to which he.. disappears? glitches out? phases out of existence? because suddenly he’s not there anymore, and you’re stranded alone with a very attractive, very threatening looking college student. 

who is also—uh, very, very naked.

“um, hi–”

“why do you have a key to my fucking dorm?”

oh, shit.

they are, frankly, gorgeous – like, one of the most beautiful people you've ever seen. their hair is black, mussed, and you can’t help the way your gaze follows its way down the threshold of an.. extremely muscled, slick torso before snapping upwards to find a mildly paralysing glare that reminds yourself that you are not in a very good position right now.

“i’m uh- your new.. roommate?'' you don't mean for it to come out like a question, but by the way they're staring down at you like you're a cockroach that just flew onto their windshield, you almost aren't so sure.

"i'm a fucking TA— i don't have roommates." their eyes narrow, which is like—alright, way to be real welcoming.

“i’m a.. last minute transfer..?” you offer, wincing as you meet their stare. their eyes are unflinching, yet still lidded in a post-sex haze. you can feel your body involuntarily holding its breath; though from the steel in their gaze or the way their biceps flex when they run a hand through their dishevelled locks, you can’t tell. 

fuck, you hate hot people.

“oh, yeah. fuck, i forgot about that.” their shoulders slacken, mouth settling into an unimpressed line; which is only slightly more welcoming than the look of murderous intent of two seconds ago. “jordan. jordan li." they say, last name and all—which is how you know they're a prick. "make yourself at home, i guess.” they don’t sound all too enthused as they skirt away from the door, seemingly satisfied with the fact that you're not a home invader—dorm invader? whatever. you just pray that the sigh of relief you breathe isn’t audible.

“great! nice to meet you, i’m–”

“s’on the sheet." jordan cuts in with supreme disinterest as they move across the room, leaning down to pick their boxers from the floor. you’re struck once again with the realisation that they are still fucking naked, and you pointedly tear your eyes away. 

“um, yeah.. hey, uh—what’s your-”

“third year, crime-fighting. don't touch my shit. no pets, obviously. if you have a dog, get rid of it. give it to the animal shelter, don’t care. don’t snoop, don't make a mess, and definitely don’t take off the goddamn do not disturb sign. got it?”

you've barely opened your mouth to reply; probably with something along the lines of what the fuck? or animal shelter? before jordan's already turned away, back muscles flexing as they sink back onto the end of their bed, scrunching their briefs up in one hand and—

“hey, uh,” jordan interjects, turning round with an unreadable expression as they glance down, and like a fucking idiot, you follow; giving you front row seat to the massive, throbbing boner that they’re still sporting—pulsing an angry, flushed red as the tip drools with precum.

“mind if i take care of this? couldn’t exactly finish, if you know what i—”

you slam the door after you, and you swear a snicker follows you down the corridor. 

-

over the next week, it quickly becomes apparent that jordan either a): forgets you live in the same room as them, or b): simply does not care. 

for starters, there’s their apparent aversion to doing laundry until their entire closet is out of commission, the coke stash underneath their mattress and also—oh. their need to get their dick wet at least four times a day. (irrespective of whether they have a dick or not).

“what?” jordan scoffs through a mouthful of cereal. “‘m not lettin’ some fuckin’ freshie cockblock me.”

“i’m a transfer, not a fucking freshman.” you scowl, and jordan’s lips curl to form a lazy little ‘o’. it twitches upwards into that infuriating little smirk, like they enjoy seeing you squirm. 

“whatever. my libido stops for nobody, not even you. besides,” they set their bowl on the bedside table, wagging their fingers suggestively into a ‘V’ shape and licking the air between. "a bigender supe has needs too."

they’re slouching against their headboard, free arm stretching lazily above their head. your cheeks flush traitorously as their biceps flex—muscles visibly popping against their frame “you can just say 'a girl has needs'. i'm not an idiot, i know what you mean." is what you grumble back, if only to ignore the inane, stupid heat pooling in the pit of your stomach. 

"but i have needs when i'm a dude, too." jordan grins, propping themselves up by their elbow, eyes gleaming impishly as they curl their hand into a fist and making a fucking wanking motion over their (currently) non-existent dick. which is—yeah. that pretty much sums up your roommate for you.

the thing is about jordan, is despite all their excessive lockerroom talk and relatively abrasive personality; they’re still rank two in all of godolkin. ergo, they’re a surprisingly busy person; being preoccupied with either studying, sparring or partying ninety of the time. 

thus, like all horny, single college students, when you don’t have time to squeeze a good fuck in, you’re left with second-best option—yourself. this would otherwise be fine, except jordan’s compound v must have seeped through their bloodstream and into their libido because jesus fucking christ are they horny.

it’s not like they make an effort of hiding it, either. they seem to have zero qualms about rolling out of bed, morning wood popping out from their briefs like a fucking beacon. 

“oh, shit,” jordan yawns when slide the covers off, giving way to the immense boner throbbing against their boxer-briefs. they don’t even have the decency to look sheepish when they walk past you, adjusting themselves lazily. you don’t miss the grunt of relief that escapes them as their hand palms their crotch before they disappear into the bathroom, either. or the little groans of relief that sound behind the door before they saunter out, towelling their hands with the stupidest grin on their face.

it shouldn’t piss you off as much as it does, except for the fact that even when jordan rouses without morning wood (or wood in general); they end up making their usual bathroom trip anyways. noises slipping from a half-ajar door and toilet lid left slippery, as always. 

they have to be doing it on purpose. they have to be. like, they left their strap-on on your desk once. which, first of all, gross. second of all, why was it so fucking big?

“jordan!” you holler, aghast as you nudge the thing on your desk, conveniently placed right next to your laptop.

“oh! that’s where i left it. sick.” jordan grins as they saunter over, veined hands reaching over to wrap around the shiny, plastic length and fuck, since when were their palms so massive—

“thanks, roomie.” they ruffle your hair with an impish glint in their eyes, smile only growing when you jerk away with a scowl. 

and that’s not even the worst of it.

“oh, shit—was that yours?” to their credit, jordan looks somewhat sheepish as they pinch a rock-hard pair of socks off the floor. your fucking socks, which have clearly been well-loved and cared for in places other than your shoes. 

“those were my favourite!” they weren’t your favourites. they’re socks. however, it makes jordan wince, which almost makes it worth it. 

hey, a little remorse is better than nothing. 

“..i’ll buy you a new pair?” jordan offers, scratching the nape of their neck. you’re almost content to let the awkwardness linger just give them just a piece of the torture you’ve been subjected to for the past several weeks — except the sliver of satisfaction is completely negated by the way jordan’s lip twitches upwards, like they’re fighting back a smirk.

“you little fuck—“

anyways, the point is jordan wanks. a lot. 

you can’t stop thinking about it. because it’s annoying. and disrespectful. and god, do they think you want to hear every pretty little moan that falls from their mouth? every grunt and groan that slips from their throat in that raspy, godforsaken timber— 

long story short; if you have to find a wadded up sock or sticky residue at the bottom of the computer desk one more time, you’re going to lose it. 

you think jordan knows it, too.

-

it’s midnight when you wake up to the sound of a bed creaking.

you’re an early sleeper, jordan isn’t. it works. you’re typically long knocked out before they even make it back in the dorm, out there doing god knows what. today, though, you’d far overestimated your ability to finish your latest assignment; so when jordan finally staggered through the door, slumping into bed with a little grunt, you thought nothing of it.

minutes pass, and the bed shifts. jordan groans. under the moonlight you can see the shadowed visage of their figure, splayed out on their bed with one hand underneath the covers; moving, repeatedly.

jordan grunts again, and you squint; bleary eyes adjusting to the darkness. the muffled, wet sound of slapping resounds, subdued by the weight of the blanket. if you didn’t know better, you’d think they were—

“mm, fuck—” jordan moans, blanket slipping down their hips and—oh my fucking god.

like pulling back a curtain, jordan’s cock springs enthusiastically to the surface; standing tall and proud as their fist pumps up and down the thick, veined girth of their length. it’s practically pulsating with need, bordering on desperate—they must be desperate, because jordan’s shameless, sure, but.. jacking off in the same room as you? 

you didn’t think they were that much of a fucking perv.

but maybe you’re a perv too, because the moment jordan’s hips rock upwards and their tip glimmers in a thick sheen of pre-cum; you can feel the telltale surge of heat in your stomach, the fabric of your panties dampening and oh, this can’t seriously be happening right now.

“fuck—motherfucker..” jordan hisses, drawing your bleary-eyed gaze from the flushed, throbbing bob of their cock to their pink cheeks and fucked-out face, mouth lolling in pleasure. they twist their head, nosing into something tossed onto their pillow that makes you stop in their tracks.

that’s.. you thought you lost that!

“need ‘m—so—fucking bad..” jordan slurs stiltedly, nuzzling into your shirt like their life depends on it. “fuckin’—stupid fucking—”

your stomach tightens, and you can’t help it when your fingers dip down under your shorts, slipping into your cunt. you should be mad, should be disgusted, should be shoving open the door and ripping them out of their covers and.. wrapping your mouth around their adorably flushed tip? seizing their hips and yanking their cock into your tight, wet little—

"oh, fuck," jordan interrupts your thought process by growling through their teeth, precum spilling from the slit of their dick and glazing their palms. there’s so much of it, so wet that even in the dark you can see the stain pooling in their sweatpants, their bedsheets. 

you’re so entranced you barely even register when it when their grip releases; length arcing and splattering thick ropes of cum against their abdomen. the sight is so mesmerising that you almost don’t pick up on the sound of your fucking name that tears out of their throat—husky and half gargled as jordan’s chest heaves. you don’t even realise you’ve been holding your breath until jordan’s figure simply lays there, pants echoing in the silent room. 

they wrap your shirt around their dick and wipe it clean. it’s only when they murmur something unintelligible—burying their nose back into your jumper that you finally, finally turn away, fingers curling deep inside your cunt.

fucking hell.

-

the second time it happens, you are wide, wide awake. which unfortunately means you have no excuse for the minutes seared into your memory and sticky residue on your thighs.

granted, at first you didn’t know. as always, the bathroom door hangs carelessly agape. steam curls from the room, wafting up and dispersing in the stuffy dorm air. what lingers, however, is the fresh note of jordan’s shampoo, body wash, and something.. saltier, headier.

whatever. with nothing more than an arched brow, you pick over the discarded basketball shorts and tank tops that litter the floor, intending to kick the bathroom door shut and be on your way. it’s when your hand reaches out, closing around the cool metal that you see it.

jordan’s slumped against the slick shower wall, fingers buried knuckle-deep into their pussy.

oh, shit shit shit—

“shit..” jordan hisses, muscles working like well-oiled sprigs as they pump into their cunt, droplets of water trickling down their skin and pooling into the divots of their body. 

your hand tightens around the doorknob. god, their moans.. if they think the sound of the showerhead can disguise the filthy nothings spilling out of their mouth, they are very, very wrong. 

somewhere between the fuck’s and annoying’s and pretty fuckin’ prude’s their full-weight crumples against the shower wall, plush ass pressing up against steaming glass like some (high-quality) porn ad as they ram their fingers in one last time, free hand shooting out wildly to grasp at nothing before the shower wall splatters with something you only catch a glimpse of before you’re slamming the bathroom door, cheeks burning and fingers trembling. with a start, you realise you’ve almost wrenched the goddamn metal off.

the doorknob is always a little bit loose, after that. 

-

you’re getting ready for a party.

well, you’re supposed to be getting ready for a  party, hence the sultry eyeshadow, glossy press of your lips and sheer amount of skin laid bare. your crop-top is just a little bit too high, mini-skirt more than a little too short.

in reality? you’re enacting your fucking vegeance.

jordan likes you. it’s a fact that stares you right in the face. and if not a crush, it’s a massive, raging hard-on. for you—only you—citing a certain roommate’s post-nut ramblings you’ve heard one too many times. 

as it turns out, jordan becomes considerably less insufferable when you know you’re the only thing that gets their dick wet.

“how do i look?” you call, doing a little twirl. it’s impossible to keep the smirk off your face, skirt flipping very purposely upwards as you spin, revealing a tad more than they ever (usually) get to see. 

jordan glances up, and their breath fucking hitches.

bingo.

“what?” you cock your head, lashes batting innocuously as they stare. playing the oblivious role is just too sweet, especially when your eyes flicker down, just for a moment, and you can see the bulge in their sweatpants growing.

poor little jordan, hard because their roommate flashed a millisecond of ass.

“you look—good.” they grunt, tone carefully measured. their gaze lingers, only for another moment before they abruptly snap their vision back to their screen. an admirable effort, really. if only their cheeks were a little less red, cock a little less needy.

“well don’t flatter me too much,” you twist away, lips twitching upwards. feigning normalcy is easy, seeing as how you’ve been doing so ever since that first night. you're practically buzzing with anticipation when you make a big show of leaving the room, snarky comment and all.

and really, jordan could've waited for longer than two minutes before moaning that raspy, broken moan (you're so intimately familiar with) from behind the door.

your lips split into a grin, and when you slide the door back open, the look on jordan's face is so priceless you hope it'll be seared into your memory forever.

“shit!"

it’s undeniable, this time. you’re no longer a fly on the wall, and they’re no longer blanketed by the illusion of secrecy; caught red-handed with their cock in their fist and head on your pillow.

“wait—fuck—i can expl—!”

like clockwork, jordan's cock twitches as if in reaction, and a drop of fresh semen spurts from their tip before trickling down to join the messy puddle on their stomach. 

“i thought—fuck! you said you were going!” 

“that doesn’t sound like an apology to me.” 

you delight in the way jordan flushes, their breath hitching. they take a ragged breath before they make a valiant attempt to cover up their falter with aggression. "doesn't mean anything," they retort through gritted teeth, mustering up as much conviction as they can. 

it’s adorable, how much they pretend they don’t want you as if they don’t jack off to the smell of your sweatshirt every night. 

“shut the fuck up.” you roll your eyes, novelty of the movement finally wearing thin. you have needs too—and with a fluid movement, you slide onto the bed and yank their hips against yours, pulling them into a straddle over your torso.

jordan can't help but hiss at the sudden contact, hips jerking instinctively. "fuck, you're cold," they mutter under their breath, though there's no denying the thrill running through them; hips bucking forward into the touch of your cool fingers as they wrap around their hard member. it feels euphoric—the contrast between your heat and coldness heightening every single nerve ending in their body. the tip of their cockhead brushing against your belly button, dripping a thin line of hot, sticky fluid after it.

“go on.” you coo, eyebrows raised. 

jorda’s hands fly almost immediately to the hem of your skirt. so eager, like an impatient puppy. 

 before you curl your hand around their wrist, grip firm and punishing. 

they freeze, head cocking like a confused puppy. “huh?” they say, biting back a noise of complaint. they want you so bad its goddamn gruelling; their fingers twitching around nothing, screaming in impatience, let me fuck you, let me ruin you already. don’t you know how long i’ve been waiting? how long you’ve kept me fucking waiting?

of course you know. they don’t know that, though. 

“you’re not gonna do anything?” despite all their irritating, fratboy-esque bravado; jordan’s unable to prevent the whininess from seeping into their tone, hands tugging insistently at the hem of your skirt. their cock pulses, painful and needy.

“you have hands, don’t you?” your lips quirk at the way jordan’s expression drops and their mouth opens again, probably to protest until you yank their thighs open and press them forward, dick pressing flush against your torso. 

"unnhnnngh.." jordan grunts, gasping for air while trying to maintain eye contact with you—an impossible task considering how goddamn desperate they are. their free hand grabs hold of your waist, grinding sloppily as precum spurts all over your chest. “f-fuck off," they hiss, lips crashing against yours, teeth knocking at their eagerness.

“goddamn tease—” they groan, rutting against your torso, to no avail. they bury their face into your collar, utterly miserable, fingers twisting into the hem of your shirt. “just get the fuck on with it—ahnnn.. f-fuck—”

“so mouthy,” you tease, delighted at the mewl that slips past jordan’s lips when your hand wraps around their tip. their chain necklace swings wildly, bucking their hips desperately into your fist.

“hands feel so fuckin’ good,” jordan sputters, drooling almost as much as their dick is. their fumbling grasp finds purchase in your shoulders as they pump themselves into your hand; you barely even have to move, with them doing most of the work.

“need to be— inside—“ jordan grunts; glassy eyes blinking down at you like it’ll change your mind just like that. it’s cute, how they look when they’re not scowling or fucking smirking at you. it’s even cuter, the way they inhale sharply when you shake your head and deliver a cool “no, baby,” their back arching when you cup one of their balls and squeeze, forced into dismal acceptance with a keening whine. 

jordan’s movements are getting unsteady, now. eyes glazing over by the second. “y’gonna make me cum,” they slur, grip on your hips tightening. it only takes a moment before their movements stutter and they’re muttering “fuck fuck fuck oh, fuck!“ and a long, gargled moan rips from their throat and all of a sudden hands wrapped around cock are sinking in wet, sloppy heat; your fingers sliding knuckle-deep into their pussy with almost breath-taking ease.

“jesus christ!” jordan croons in sheer, unexpected pleasure as they feel you shove yourself inside them, cum spurting and squeezing out helplessly from between their walls and your fingers. they squirt so fucking messily, their leaking cock replaced by a cunt spilling out out all over your palm. 

“i didn’t—didn’t mean to—” they slur, panic two steps behind their mouth. struggling to sling anything coherent together with you kneading your fingers into their pussy like its goddamn putty. “oh?” you arch a brow, and jordan visibly flushes, moaning openly when your digits curl.

“can’t–don’t really—”

“what? fuck yourself?” is your reply, because you both know they fucking do; it’s not like you don’t how their pussy sounds when it’s sliding slick against their pillow, how your name sounds cried out, thick through the muzzle of your jumper.

it’s a dual guilty pleasure—you watch, they do. at this point, you can’t tell who’s the more perverted out of the two of you.

jordan. definitely jordan. 

“too busy humping my clothes, is that it?” you purr, and jordan honest to god whimpers, squirming away from your fingers both out of overstimulation and plaintive shame. “ah, ah,” you tut, nails digging into their hips as you hold them in place, finger thumbing harshly against their clit as they cry out a gargled moan. 

“f-fuck off—” jordan hisses, practically an admission of guilt itself. they seem to know it, too, with the way they abandon all pretence and pound violently against your knuckles—their gaze burning into yours like they’re daring you to say another word. “don’t act like you didn’t—shit—fucking like it.” jordan gasps out between sputters, teetering on the edge of another orgasm.

“hm?” you pause, eyes meeting jordan’s heated, quivering stare. “jerk off to watching me?” they choke, eyes glossing over when you thrust “did you fuck yourself to my—mmhnn—!” 

an easy, all-too-familiar eye roll graces your face before you shut them up with your fingers. their pussy clenches; hot, slippery walls gripping your digits as if afraid to let go. oh, this is too easy.

“don’t get cute with me, roomie.” the nickname tastes sweet on your tongue, and jordan’s face grows hotter. a well-timed thumb to their clit flickers their bravado out like a light. “fucking hell!” they gasp, mouth gaping into a moan and eyes rolling back into their skull.

“you wanted me to watch, didn’t you?” you coo, and jordan squirms; mouth open in protest—or at least attempts at them, what with the way they keep gasping out in pleasure as you roll your fingers against their clit. 

“shut the fuck—i didn’t—”

“a pervert and a liar now, are we?”

jordan makes a noise somewhere between a hiss and a whine, crying out when you slide two more fingers into the slick canal of their core. their eyes screw shut, hands seizing so wildly into the mattress you almost think they’re about to tear a hole through the bedsheets.

“god! fuck—i can’t—”

they cry out your name when they cum, and even if its a sound you’ve heard countless times by now you don’t think it’ll ever get old. “that’s it, baby.” you coo, lips curling upwards at the way they bury their face into your collar.

they lie there, panting, for what feels like forever before a muffled, half-delusional groan leaves their lips.

“oh, fuuuckk..”

“what?”

“..i thought i would top.”

[dsireland86]

Autumn Stay

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Your coffee is the perfect temperature when you take the first sip. The taste of cinnamon and vanilla hit your tongue instantly, making you smile. Perfection.

Long arms slip around your waist as soft lips touch your cheek, the tickles of facial hair making you giggle. Jolly rubs his cheek against yours, knowing how much you love the scratchy feeling of his facial hair against your skin, and breathes in deeply the scent of you. He places a soft kiss on the side of your head, pulling you back against his chest. The warmth of his strong body behind you brings you comfort, the kind that helps you sleep at night in peace. You rest comfortably against him, looking out the kitchen window at the different color leaves, slowly drifting down against the breeze that you're sure is already a little nippy. Autumn is here. You're favorite time of the year.

"I missed you this morning, min älskling. The bed was too cold without you." The deep sound of Jolly's husky voice, still filled with sleep, vibrates against your back. "I'm sorry, my love. I woke from a bad dream and couldn't fall back asleep." 

Jolly's rough, tattooed hands sink from your waist, down to the warmest spot on you; right between your thighs. He parts them just enough for him to slip his hands in between, hooking them in that fine crease that separates your entrance from your thigh. A deep sigh escapes him, as the muscles in your core tighten at just his touch. 

"You should have woken me up. I could have easily helped you with that. I'm hungry," he states, rubbing his lips against your neck. His words make you grin while the soft scratching of his scruff reminds you of last night and the feeling of it against your sex. "Again?" You take another sip of your coffee.

"What do you mean again," he huffs, removing his hands from your thighs to tickle you in your sides, causing you to almost spill your coffee. "Hey! Jolly!" you squeal. Long fingers reach for your cup, removing it from your grasp just in time. 

Noah's reach comes from across the table next to you, and he claims your coffee as his own by taking three long gulps. "Seriously, Noah?" you chide, trying to hide your smile. He flashes you his boyish grin that always makes your heart flutter. The two of you may be each other's best friend, but that doesn't mean you aren't attracted to one another. Noah is constantly reminding you that if Jolly hadn't staked his claim on you first, you'd be his. “I couldn't let it spill and go to waste now, could I?" He grins, swallowing the remaining coffee in the cup. You scowl at him.

"Relax, babe. I'll make you more," he assures you, caressing your cheek before tapping the end of your nose. "Don't forget the,"  "Pumpkin Spice creamer, I know," Noah says, and you smile as you turn around to finally face the man who fully has your heart. Jolly leans down and captures your lips with his, kissing you so softly, so sweetly that you find yourself melting against him. Suddenly, you want to wrap yourself up in him and stay there all day.

"A bonfire and the plaid blankets we bought yesterday outback later today? How does that sound?" Jolly leans down and kisses you again, this time with a little more force. "That sounds perfect, Joakim," you tease, your mouth curving upwards in a mischievous grin. You know how much it annoys him when you use his full name. Jolly shakes his head, kneading your waist with his large hands, making you squirm beneath his touch. 

"You and your antics are going to get you into so much trouble," he murmurs, pushing harder into you. "Hmmm, what antics? I don't know what you're talking about," you lie, leaning your forehead against his chest. His hand lays heavily on yours, the one that's pressed firmly on his semi hard length. You grin, biting your lip, and look up at him. His expression is soft, yet the way he's staring at you as if you're about to be devoured by him has you swallowing hard and clenching onto his arm as you feel your knees buckling. "Those antics, min älskling," he whispers, kissing the end of your nose. 

Your entire face heats up and Jolly grins. "That color looks beautiful on you," he praises. Noah clears his throat and you turn to look at him. "Bad time?" he asks, holding your steaming hot cup of coffee. You can smell the pumpkin spice radiating off of it, and knowing that Noah never forgets anything you say, makes your heart happy. You roll your eyes, taking the cup from his grasp. "Shut-up, Noah," you chide him. His soft chuckle makes you smile as he shoots you a quick wink.

"Awe, I wanted the black and white one," you whine, protruding your bottom lip. "Alright, fine. Here, take it," Noah groans, tossing the large blanket at you. It covers up the entire front of your body, including your face when it lands on you. Noah busts out laughing as you pull the blanket from off your face, the static from it making your hair stick out.  "You're such a jerk sometimes," you frown, rolling your arms up inside the warmth of the soft cotton and refusing to look up at Noah. He stands in front of you, squatting and resting his arms across your knees. "Don't pout. You're too pretty for that." He's charming you because he knows he's irritated you.

"I said one more log, not four Nick," Folio sighs to Nicholas, who has an arm full of wood. "Look, I'm just doing what the Jolly Green Giant over there told me to do. Don't shoot the messenger," Nicholas admits defensively, dropping the pile of logs in front of the fire pit before finishing his Capri Sun. Noah looks back at you and you both smile, laughing softly between one another. "Those two," Noah sighs, shaking his head. "Those two? What about you two?" 

Jolly makes his way over to you, laying his hand gently on your shoulder. His eyes are covered in dark sunglasses and his long, soft brown hair, usually down, is pulled back into a firm bun. His thin but strong arms, usually covered by long sleeves are bare, leaving the tattoos on his left arm on full display. He looks absolutely divine and you wonder if his offer from this morning still stands. 

"What about us?" Noah asks, looking up at his friend questionably. "What, do you think I'm trying to convince your girl to run away with me? Maybe get married and punch out a couple of kids while living off the millions of dollars I've stolen from the band's bank account?" Your mouth falls open in shock, eyes wide while you try to suppress the laugh that's dying to escape. At first, Jolly doesn't say anything, and for a moment, you think that Noah's finally crossed the line with him. But then Jolly removes his glasses, and you're relieved to find a look of amusement gracing his beautiful face. 

"Dude, we don't even have millions in our bank account, so your plan is shit,” Jolly states, furrowing his brows in confusion.  Noah stands up, rising to his full height which is a little bit taller than Jolly. "Really, Jolly? That's what you're worried about?" Noah playfully shakes his head. "I just threatened to run off with your woman and all you can think about is the millions of dollars we don't have in the bank?" 

Noah is the one scowling in confusion now, and you're just sitting there quietly laughing to yourself, wondering how in the hell this conversation was even happening.  "Matt!" "What?" a voice that can hear you from the open windows, yells from somewhere inside the house. "I need you! Your kids are acting up again!" "I'm not their fucking babysitter," Matt scolds sarcastically, walking out of the house with a can in each of his hands; one a Celsius and the other a Dr. Pepper. 

"Well, you are right now. Their fur is up and I refuse to get involved," you explain, pulling the blanket up around you. It's starting to get chillier and you're suddenly very cold. "Fuck that shit," Matt scoffs with a light chuckle as he sits down in the chair next to you. "I'm off the clock. They're your problem now." He looks over at you and grins, cracking open his Celsius. He curses the second it spills over his thigh. "Don't you dare," he orders you, hearing you snicker. You burst into full blown laughter, unable to hide your enthusiasm. "I'm sorry," you insincerely apologize, trying to catch your breath. Matt stands up and leans over you, threatening to pour his drink over top of you. You squeal, cringing with your hands up in defense, and begging Matt for mercy. Laughing loudly, he gathers your hands together with just one of his, holding them down until he's almost poured the cold liquid on you, but retracting it just in time. He places a quick kiss on your forehead before backing away. 

Sighing, you finally catch your breath and realize that both Jolly and Noah are looking at you skeptically. "What?" you shrug. "You know, Noah, I think we both have it wrong. I don't think it's you I need to worry about. I think it's Dierkes," Jolly concludes in all seriousness. "I think you're right. Seems like your little lady is making the rounds," Noah suggests, bringing his hand to his mouth and staring at you quizzingly. You're no longer laughing, unable to tell if either one of them is joking. 

"You've got to be kidding," you groan, giving them both a skeptical look. "No way, absolutely no way, do you both think that Matt and I," but you pause the moment both of their faces brighten with wide grins. Noah’s the first to snicker, followed by the man who is supposed to be defending your honor, and together, their laughter fills the area surrounding you. "I hate you both," you growl, fighting hard to hide your smile once you've realized they're only joking.

"I'm sorry, baby, come here," Jolly croons. He closes the gap between you two, pulling you up until you're wrapped up securely in his arms, burying your face in the black fabric of his t-shirt. The soft caresses he trails up the sides of your neck as he raises your face to meet his breaks the chains of resistance and no matter how irritated you pretend to be, you can't resist the flirtatious attempt from the man holding you. Sighing, you reach up and wrap you arms around his neck. "That's better. I don't like you being mad at me."

A quiet moan slips from the back of Jolly's throat, as he runs his hands down your backside, over your bottom, and lightly pushes you closer against him. The action has you bucking your hips which only encourages Jolly to squeeze your bottom a little harder. "My offer from this morning still stands," he whispers against your ear, letting his lips fall to your cheek where he plants small, yet sensual kisses all over. Your heart begins to beat a little faster as you crack a small smile. "I was hoping it did," you confess, rubbing your sex subtly against the erection growing against your belly.

You look up at Jolly admiring the shapes of his striking Swedish features and suddenly feel giddy. Jolly catches the faint sparkle in your eyes and his mouth twitches, giving you a half smile. "You're shivering," he points out, running his hands up and down the sides of your arms. Unknowingly, your teeth chatter together. Jolly reaches down, taking the blanket Noah threw at you earlier, and wraps it around you. Instantly, the warmth spreads through your body and what it doesn't reach you find in Jolly's embrace.

"Come, sit," tugging you into his lap. You fall into him, and he pulls your legs up, draping them over the sides of his, and holding you tightly against him. Snuggling into his chest, you take a deep breath and sigh, turning to look out over the bonfire at your friends. The four of them are happy, lost in conversation about life outside of the band and music. It's peaceful, relaxing, and for the first time in a while, you can all breathe slowly. "Is this everything you had in mind, min älskling?" Jolly asks quietly, laying a gentle kiss on your cheek again. "Yeah, it is," you tell him, with a slight yawn.

His hands manage to find yours somehow under the massive blanket and when they do, their fingers tangle with yours, completing the empty feeling you had. The love you have for this man is unlike anything you've ever felt. Jolly completes you like nothing you thought ever could. And you know you do the same for him because he manages to show you every day that you mean the world to him. It's him. It's always been him.

"So, I know you and Noah have plans of running away together and all, but I was wondering if you could give me one more chance of convincing you why you should stay with me." The tender tone of Jolly's voice has you turning around to face him, and when you do your lips almost collide. He's looking down at you with a longing in his eyes, one that is almost pleading. Something is on his mind and it's not Noah. You reach up and lay your hand against his cheek, feeling him lean into a little more as he closes his eyes for a moment and opens them just as quickly.

"You know Noah's just kidding, right? I would never, in a million years, leave you, my love," you assure him, sliding your hand around the back of his neck to bring him a little closer to you. Licking your lips, your eyes dart from his eyes to his lips then back to his eyes before placing your lips on his. The gentle way Jolly slips his tongue inside your mouth has you clenching your thighs together, and he doesn't like that. With one of his hidden hands, he forces them apart and lays it over your warmth, gripping your whole sex with just one hand, The move makes you gasp and bury your face in his shoulder.

"I know you wouldn't," he agrees with you, giving you a slight grin. "Reason number one being that this between your legs belongs to only me," dragging one of his thick fingers between your folds the best way that he can considering the fabric blocking much of his attempt. But it still feels absolutely divine. "Yes, only yours," you mumble through a soft moan, biting your bottom lip. "But I want to give you something, Hjärtat." Jolly's serious now, and you catch the urgency in his voice. You look up only to find a hint of worry mixed with a little bit of fear. "Jolly, what is it," you ask, more alert than before.

He huffs a slight laugh, dropping his head. After a few seconds, he lifts it and that's when you notice the tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. The sight makes you melt. "My love, what is it," you ask quietly, placing your hands on the sides of his face and running your thumbs over his lips. He kisses them, then takes your hands in his own. "I love you, you know that, right?" His question throws you off and you frown in confusion. "Of course I do. Jolly," you nervously laugh, having absolutely no idea where this is going, "what's going on? Why are you," "Marry me," he blurts out, keeping his eyes locked with yours. You gasp, eyes growing wide as you throw your hands over your mouth. "What?" "Will you... marry me, please?" Jolly repeats, this time with a little more boldness.

Your heart is racing and you suddenly feel quite dizzy. Still seated comfortably in Jolly's lap, you can't hold back the tears that slip from your eyes and run down the sides of your face as you break out into a nervous chuckle. "What? Are you sure? I mean, me? You want to marry me? I don't... I don't underst..." Jolly shushes you by slamming his lips on yours, kissing you with so much emotion that it makes you cry a little harder. "Just answer the question, Baby. Will you marry me? Yes or no?" Jolly stares at you so calmly now and for the first time ever, you can actually see forever in his eyes. He's serious. He wants you. Forever.

"Yes! Yes, I will," you laugh, throwing, your arms around his neck. Jolly scoops you up into him, holding you as tightly as possible in his arms as soft tears drip onto the skin of your neck. Now you know he loves you and feels about you, the same way you feel about him. Retrieving something from his pocket, Jolly pulls you back and takes your left hand and separates your ring finger from the rest. He slips on it a simple silver diamond ring, nothing too big because he knows how much you hate big and flashy. It fits perfectly. You look at one another, smiling, then just like before, you cuddle up into Jolly as he holds you tight and together you look over at the bonfire and the four guys who are now congratulating you with smiles and laughter. This is what your forever looks like, this is your home. It's perfect. And it's all yours. 

[veilkeeper]

would love love LOVE to hear more about the emmrook 5+1!!

@lilac-lich also wanted to know about this, the people are BANGING ON MY FRONT DOOR!!!

the emmrook 5+1 is a silly little idea where it's basically, "5 times emmrich pulled back and 1 time he didn't." basically, i wanted to explore emmrich and corentin's relationship from the lens of all the times corentin is fully bought in but emmrich is still hesitant for various reasons (eventually culminating in, of course, lich porn, because i am only human).

snippet (EXTREMELY hard to pick just one moment because i have 3 full scenes written for this shshs):

"You look busy." Rook seems uncharacteristically deflated as he says it, big brown eyes focused on Emmrich's desk, taking in the numerous open books scattered about. "Unfortunately so, dearest," Emmrich replies, heart breaking slightly at the way Rook pouts. "I'm penning a rather urgent letter in response to a colleague's query." Despite his answer, Rook pads across the room anyways, stepping behind Emmrich's chair and placing both hands on his shoulders. A slightly callused finger traces along the top of his collar and sends a shiver down his spine, before Rook leans forward, sliding his hands down along Emmrich's chest. "How urgent?" Rook asks, his lips ghosting over Emmrich's ear. "Quite," Emmrich breathes. He places his pen down gingerly, careful not to let any ink splatter, before he leans back, reaching up to brush the backs of his fingers along Rook's cheek apologetically. "Perhaps you could come back later? Surely one of the others would be glad for your company until I'm finished." The dissatisfied huff he gets in response is supremely uncharacteristic, made more shocking by the sharp turn from how solicitous Rook had been just a moment before. "Fine." He pulls away quickly, the sudden lack of contact leaving Emmrich comparatively cold, and starts for the door. "Corentin," he sighs, getting to his feet quickly so he can catch Rook by the wrist. A gentle hold, more of a request than a demand, but it's enough to make Rook turn back to him, half-pouting and half-scowling as he looks up at Emmrich. "Darling, tell me what's wrong." "You're busy." He replies, unhelpfully. Emmrich lifts a brow expectantly, and after a short moment of silence, Rook cracks, swaying forward to drop his forehead into Emmrich's collarbone. "Bellara's talking to the archive spirit, and his voice is super annoying. But everyone else is already asleep, and it's so quiet here because it's the Fade." It clicks, and Emmrich can't help but wrap his arms around his lover and hug him close. "Oh, my dear, do you need help falling asleep?"

[underworld-park-offical]

TWEEK: Okay

TWEEK: You

TWEEK: Mister

TWEEK: Tinfoil

TWEEK: Hat

TWEEK: Guy

KENNY: Stan

TWEEK:  What

KENNY: His names Stan

TWEEK: Okay

TWEEK: Cool

TWEEK: I'm not gonna remember that

TWEEK: You said you had

TWEEK: Like

TWEEK: A bunker

TWEEK: Right?

STAN: Yeah

CRAIG: Dog shit covered ahhh barn 💀

TWEEK: Why is he saying Skull emoji out loud

TOLKIEN: Not even WE know at this point

KYLE: We gotta get him to stop that

KYLE: It's more annoying than KYLE: ….Whatever….. Stan's got going on

CRAIG: Omg not you slandering me 💀

CRAIG: Don't even rn you look like the Goodwill shat you out

KYLE: Fuck you

KYLE: You know that Supreme hoodie isn't even real Supreme, right?

CRAIG: Lmao what

CRAIG: Me when I lie

KYLE: Nonononono

KYLE: Look look look

KYLE: It says “Souprem”

KYLE: It's fake merch dude

KYLE: Its as fake as those fucking yeezys

CRAIG: ….

KYLE: …Dude?

CRAIG: No that's my other hoodie

KYLE: Are you fucking serious

KYLE: You aren't even rich stop acting like you are

CRAIG: Nuh uh

KYLE: FUCK YOU MEAN NUH UH????

TOLKIEN: Kyle, just give it up

TOLKIEN: Trying to convince Craig he isn't rich is like trying to convince a toddler to wipe their own ass

TOLKIEN: It's not worth it

CLYDE: …. CLYDE: Why do I feel like that was directed towards me?

TOLKIEN: Because It was, Clyde

CLYDE: OH COME ON I WASH MY OWN ASS

TOLKIEN: NO THE FUCK YOU DO NOT YOU SMELL LIKE A TACO BELL CLYDE: FUCK YOU CLYDE: AT LEAST TWEEK LIKES ME TOLKIEN: OH SURE SURE SURE TOLKIEN: TWEEK DOESN'T ACTUALLY LIKE YOU TOLKIEN: THERE'S NO WAY SOMEONE LIKE TWEEK WOULD BE STUPID ENOUGH TO GO AFTER YOU, YOU FUCKING TESTOSTERONE FUELED SHITSTAN

CLYDE: THANK YOU FOR ACKNOWLEDGING I'M TRANS BUT FUCK YOU FOR INSULTING ME

TOLKIEN: YOU’RE VERY WELCOME, FUCK YOU TOO

CLYDE: YOU KNOW WHAT?? I BET YOU 30 BUCKS I CAN PULL IN TWEEK WITH MY MANLY AWESOMENESS

TOLKIEN: I BET YOU A MILLION DOLLARS YOU CAN'T

CLYDE: FINE

TOLKIEN: FINE

CLYDE: LETS FUCKING GO

CLYDE: I'LL ASK OUT TWEEK AND IT'LL BE THE MOST ROMANTIC THING EVER

STAN: Hmmm

STAN: At my barn we could like

STAN: Use my dad and my sister

STAN: As like

STAN: Food

KYLE: Dude no

KYLE: I am not resorting to cannibalism

CARTMAN: Kahl, you’ve eaten animals, that's basically like eating people

KYLE: Okay mr “forty big macs in one day”

CARTMAN: Uhm, actually they're vegan chicken patties KYLE

CARTMAN: ALSO did you just ASSUME my GENDER????

CARTMAN: YOU ARE GETTING C A N C E L L E D

CARTMAN: I WANT A TEAR RIDDEN UKELELE FILLED APOLOGY RIGHT NOW

KYLE: Oh my GODDDDD

KENNY: Actually studies show that most human meat is similar taste wise to chicken

CRAIG: I thought it was pork

CRAIG: Like

CRAIG: Deadass

CRAIG: Like pigs

CRAIG: Like deadass pigs

KENNY: We know what pork is CRAIG 

STAN: Yeah

STAN: So we’re fucking set

CARTMAN: Uhhh no thanks, i’d rather be one with the animals and eat dirt and hay

STAN: We don't even have animals

CARTMAN: I’ll just eat the weed then

STAN: What

KENNY: What

KYLE: What

CRAIG: LMAOOOOOOO IM DEADDDDDDD 💀 💀 💀 

CARTMAN: What???

CARTMAN: It's like eating catnip

CARTMAN: Besides its environmentally friendly

STAN: What's your source

CARTMAN: Wikipedia

STAN: Ooooof course it is

STAN: The internets lying to you, you know

CARTMAN: Fuck off, Stan, Queermo

STAN: IM TELLING THE TRUTH HERE

TWEEK: HhhhuGiyhvfdeiohjd

TWEEK: OKay

TWEEK: Cool

TWEEK: We’re set on a TOTALLY ANONYMOUS LOCATION

TWEEK: Awesome

TWEEK: Great

TWEEK: Dandy even!

TWEEK: Everyone

TWEEK: Lets hold hands

CRAIG: I am not touching Clydes fucking shitstained hands

TWEEK: Fine

TWEEK: I’ll hold Clyde's hand

TOLKIEN: Why do you wanna touch Clydes hands thats fucking nasty

CRAIG: For real

CRAIG: Preach 🙏🙏🙏

TWEEK: I don't care

TWEEK: It's just for a bit TWEEK: I can wash my own hands afterwards

CRAIG: EWWWW FAGS

CLYDE: Aww… really?? :D

TWEEK: Fine

TWEEK: Sure

TWEEK: Whatever

CLYDE: Nobody other than Tolkien has wanted to hold my hand before! :DD

TOLKIEN: Was that before or after I figured out you don't wash your hands

TWEEK: Who else is fine with

TWEEK: Touching Clyde

CRAIG: Stop making me have gay thoughts, Playboi Carti

TWEEK: What

TWEEK: I don't

TWEEK: I'm not

TWEEK: Just

TWEEK: Hold hands

TWEEK: You all have socks on

TWEEK: I think

TWEEK: So it's not gay

CARTMAN: Uhm erm erm erm

CARTMAN: Actually

CARTMAN: That's a homophobic statement

TWEEK: CRAIG SAID A FUCKING SLUR?????????

TWEEK: WHAT???????

TWEEK: IM TWEEK: HUH TWEEK: WHAT TWEEK: OKAY

TWEEK: JUST TWEEK: JUST HOLD HANDS TWEEK: STOP MAKING THIS HARDER FOR ME

CLYDE: Wow

CLYDE: I forgot CLYDE: What holding hands felt like

KYLE: Woah

KYLE: This reminds me of the first episode of My Little Pony

KYLE: Where

KYLE: Twilight and her friends

KYLE: Find the friendship trinkets or whatever

KYLE: And they reverse the curse on them that turns them into stone

KYLE: And they used them to like

KYLE: Defeat Nightmare Moon

KYLE: Turning her back into Princess Luna

KENNY: That was so fucking gay

KENNY: I feel like I'm gonna vomit rainbows because of you

CARTMAN: Kenny stop being homophobic

CARTMAN: I will cancel you again

KENNY: Fuck off I know that blue hair you wear online is a wig

CARTMAN: BITCH-

TWEEK: SHUT UP

TWEEK: ALL OF YOU TWEEK: MY SATAN

TWEEK: CAN YOU ALL GO LIKE TWEEK: TWO MINUTES WITHOUT FIGHTING AND OR DEGRADING EACH OTHER

KENNY: ….

CARTMAN: …. KYLE: …..

LITERALLY EVERYONE: …..

CRAIG: Slllaaa-

TOLKIEN: Dont

TOLKIEN: Just

TOLKIEN: Do not

TOLKIEN: Actually, you’ve lost speaking privileges

CRAIG: 😡

TWEEK: Alright

TWEEK: Is

TWEEK: Is everyone holding hands

CRAIG: yeah its like Kumbaya frfr

TOLKIEN: Stop talking

TWEEK: Okay

TWEEK: Alakazam

TWEEK: Alakazane

TWEEK: Im sending you off this mortal plane

KYLE: Wait wha-

CRAIG: Like And Subscribe! Like And Subscribe! Like And Subscribe! Like And Subscribe! Like And Subscribe!

KENNY: Yoooo

CRAIG: Like and Share! Like and Share! Like and Share!

TOLKIEN: Haaaaa

TOLKIEN: What

TOLKIEN: Was that

TWEEK: Magic Trick

TOLKIEN: What

TWEEK: Hey you have a lot of free time when you live in a dumpster

CRAIG: Copy link! Copy link! Copy link! Copy link! Copy link! Copy link!

TOLKIEN: Whatever, please for the sake of our brain cells, never do that again

KENNY: I dunno

KENNY: I thought that was pretty cool

CRAIG: Kombucha? I LLLOOOVVVEEE KOMBUCHA! Kombucha? I LOVE KOMBUCHA Kombucha? I LOVE KOMBUCHA Kombucha? I LOVE KOMBUCHA

TWEEK: Alright

TWEEK: Humans

TWEEK: Freaks

TWEEK: Whatever your names are

TWEEK: Get in the fucking barn

TWEEK: Now, quoting the safety psas from Estella,

TWEEK: Don't open the door for strangers, Don’t investigate any random noises, don't take any offers from strange men in white vans, don't help anyone, if anyone says they're friends of your parents do not trust them

TWEEK: And for goodness sake,

TWEEK: USE THE BUDDY SYSTEM

CRAIG: I'm addicted to Takis! I'm addicted to Takis! I'm addicted to Takis! I'm addicted to Takis!

STAN: One, what are we, five?

STAN: Second

STAN: It's a backup bunker, not  a barn

TWEEK: WHATEVER! JUST- GET IN

TWEEK: DO YOU WANNA LIVE OR NOT????

STAN: No

TWEEK: …

STAN: …

TWEEK: ….

STAN: ….

TWEEK: ….

TWEEK: O….

TWEEK: Kay…..

TWEEK: Just…..

TWEEK: Get in the barn

STAN: Fineeeee

STAN: Whatever

STAN: Fuck you

CRAIG: [ Gotta sleep in fucking pig shit this sucks fuck this ]

CLYDE: Hey

CLYDE: Hey CLYDE: Hey Tweek

TWEEK: Arrrghhh…What….

CLYDE: Do

CLYDE: Do you

CLYDE: Do you think

CLYDE: Do you think we CLYDE: Do you

CLYDE: Do you think we could

CLYDE: Maybe

CLYDE: Like

CLYDE: Go to like

CLYDE: Dennys

CLYDE: After this???

TWEEK: Whats

TWEEK: What's Dennys?

CLYDE: Oh

CLYDE: Uh

CLYDE: Maybe we could like

CLYDE: Go to Olive Garden then?

TWEEK: What

TWEEK: What's an olive?

TWEEK: And

TWEEK: And what's a Garden?

CLYDE: …

CLYDE: Oh you poor

CLYDE: Sweet

CLYDE: Summer child

CLYDE: You know what

CLYDE: I'm gonna take you to the Olive Garden

CLYDE: And you're gonna have the time of your fucking life

TWEEK: Uh

TWEEK: O

TWEEK: OKAY?????

CLYDE: Alright

CLYDE: I’ll see you there babe

TWEEK: Uh

TWEEK: UHHH

TWEEK: WHAT

TWEEK: DID YOU JUST CALL ME BABE TWEEK: WHAT???

TOLKIEN: Don’t fall for that shit

TOLKIEN: He doesn't wash his hands

TOLKIEN: Or his ass

TWEEK: Why's that relevant?

TOLKIEN: IT'S FUCKING DISGUSTING?????

TWEEK: CHILL OUT IT'S NOT THAT BAD

TOLKIEN: YES IT IS??????

TWEEK: …Whatevs

TOLKIEN: ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS????

(edits made by @pissblanket)

[thespianinthebackcorner]

okay so Hazbin season 1 just ended (spoiler alert) and by GOD that was an ending. I love it. I was panicking so bad after Alastor just disappeared halfway through the battle and then afterwards the only ones who seemed to notice were the Vees (of course they did. I see you Vox) but he came back later anyway. More spoilers and theories under the cut

BUT! He came back eventually, he's not dead. That scene in the studio was... A lot. I love it, it perfectly sets up next season- Alastor is clearly going to be the star of the show. Husker was right, he is bound to someone, and he's clearly not happy about it. actually he's just going through it as a whole, clearly there's more on his mind than the battle. He's on his last nerve, and one thing I noticed was that throughout episodes 7 and 8- and, now that I think about it, the whole season- there's a couple hints towards Alastor repressing his true feelings, and that the consequences are starting to come back to bite him. It's even outright implied through his conversation with Charlie- he himself says that just because he's smiling it doesn't mean anything about what he's actually feeling underneath. Much like Alastor I also enjoy seeing characters cry and lose their hold, and I think next season will be that moment for him.

Kay I need to reorganise this post. Bullet point time, ATAR style

Season 1:

hints all over the shop that Alastor is repressing his feelings and it's going to come back

Confirmation with the scene at the end of Episode 8 that Alastor is indeed bound to someone and those binds are incredibly tight, he can't get out easily

According to him, said deal restricts his actions to an extent, enough that he's starting to feel suffocated

I know Dad Beat Dad was a joke for him, but from the way he protected the hotel I think he's also starting to realise how much he actually does care about Charlie in his own way.

Compared to the beginning of the series, Alastor is getting pushed closer to the edge more often. He's getting more annoyed and losing his composure, the amount of swearing he was doing in that last fight with Adam Asshole Supreme shows that just fine- not to mention his reaction to Husker's confrontation and his clear annoyance and even jealousy of Lucifer throughout Dad Beat Dad.

Enough hints that he's being controlled by Lilith for the fandom to notice at large

Lilith being hinted to return to Hell in Season Two

Not stated in the actual show but Alastor speaks with a Transatlantic accent, which is a fake accent created by tv and radio presenters of his time. What we hear isn't his actual voice, unless being in Hell also changes your voice, which considering Vaggie didn't change after coming down and Pentious didn't change after going up doesn't seem to be the case

Predictions for Season Two:

Alastor's clearly had enough of his restraints, I think he's going to find a way out of it

Lilith is not going to be happy with him for that, I get the feeling he's also already done something she's not going to like

Lilith Is Going To Bitch Slap Alastor (this is inevitable and I am looking forward to it)

Considering sound is Alastor's greatest asset and what he does, i think at some point it's going to be taken away from him- either through inability to speak or inability to hear, or both

This would also mean he'd need to resort to visuals for communication, which will likely be a struggle- I don't think Alastor is the type to learn sign language, he's a radio presenter, so he's going to have to learn it somehow. I'm not actually sure if anyone else at the hotel does but Husker might (he seems like he would, just for kicks). Or they might come up with some other way to communicate

If I'm right then he'll also have to properly learn to lean on the others instead of stepping away like he usually does

At some point that smile and that accent are going to drop. And it will be a MOMENT.

Season Two will be based on a villain, yes, but this show is all about redemption and while Alastor clearly doesn't want to try that in the traditional sense, I think the next season is definitely going to be redemption for him in a different sense- less redemption, more healing.

The other patrons of the hotel are definitely attached to him now, Lilith better watch her back.

Side note, Pentious better come back and get his girl he's not leaving like that

Maybe I should turn this into a fanfic

Maybe it's copium but to me next season will be ALL about Alastor and how he fits in with the show itself. And I am so ready for it. That boy is going to cry whether he likes it or not.

[citruswriter]

Got room for two more?

Chapter Three - Pheromones

A Bale AU Fic

Listen with me! ↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ

Warnings: Warnings: Tcest (you have been warned!), Character x OC, polyamory, fluff, not as long as my other chapters.

"Donnie, I'm here". Chiyo's voice rang through Donnie's lab. Donnie perked up, sliding his goggles up to look at the woman. "Good, good. Right on time." He said excitedly. "Here. Raph said you've been up here all day, so he sent me up with some lunch and a fresh cup of coffee". Chiyo spoke softly, setting down the plate of food and the still steaming cup of coffee.

Donnie hummed in appreciation, grabbing the mug to take a sip. "Wow this is good". He said, taking another sip and Chiyo smiled. "Thanks. Brewed it myself." She said before making her way to a table to sit on. "Robe open on the top please. And you brewed it?" He said, starting conversation as she loosened the sash on her rob, allowing it to fall off her shoulders.

"Yup. Spent some time in Italy at some point. Stayed afloat by being a barista. I learned more than a few tips and tricks while staying there". She mused, shaking her hair back as Donnie began to place censors on her chest and shoulders. "How interesting". Donnie said, only half way listening.

"Donnie!" A voice came and Donnie jumped from the sudden sound before giving an annoyed sigh. "Yes Mikey?" He said, still faced towards his monitors. "Yeah. So, super important question but, do kitsunes have pheromones?" Mikey asked, nervously rushing into the lab only to freeze when seeing Chiyo.

"Why yes. Yes we do." Chiyo said as Donnie continued his work. "But it's nothing special. We let off a certain pheromone when ovulating, but that's normal for any ovary having creature. We also have a particularly strong pheromone we let off during mating season. Potent stuff. There's a reason why we isolate. But other than that I wouldn't say we have pheromones. Why you askin?"

Mikey stood close to his brother, tempted to reach out and grab his hand. "Oh no reason. I just realized, after my session with Stella, I know absolutely nothing about kitsunes! So thought I'd pop into Donnie's lab to ask him." His tone was nervous, he knew it was. Chiyo eyed him and Mikey was praying to the Pizza Supreme in the sky above that she wouldn't question him.

He let out a breath as she shrugged her shoulders and looked away. After a few more minutes, Donnie came over to unhook Chiyo from his machine before handing her a wet wipe to rub away all the goop. "That should be all for right now." He said, writing some last minute notes as he took another sip of coffee.

"Fine with me." The woman said, fixing her robe before sliding down and reaching a hand over to rest on his shoulder. "Just text me if you need me". And with that, she skipped off to do her own thing. Mikey watched her leave before turning to his brother once more.

"All right. I know that look. What do you want?" He asked shortly and Mikey sighed, reaching to grab Donnie's hands. "Mikey? What's wrong?" Donnie asked, tone more worried now as he stepped closer to his mate. Mikey sighed softly, looking around the room before looking down. "Look um... the reason why I asked if kitsunes had pheromones or not is because well... Stella and I almost kissed".

Donnie jerked back. "I'm sorry what?" He said, glaring down at his mate. "L-Look it's not something I admit in pride. I feel really bad. She and I were just talking and then she had this panic attack, so I went to calm her down but then she started crying and I hugged her til she calmed down. You know, typical Dr. Feelings stuff. But then she looked up at me with these big doe eyes through wet lashes and her lips were puffy from the crying and then she said my name. Oh my, Donnie she said my name. And I felt like I was in some sort of trance and it was so weird." Mikey stopped, nervously drawing a breath before looking back up at Donnie. "So that's why I'm asking if kitsunes have pheromones".

Donnie sighed, rolling his eyes and grabbing Mikey's chin in a firm grasp. "Sure. If love was a pheromone". He scoffed and Mikey blinked. "Love? No, no, no. Donnie I love you. I love Leo. Raph. April. Casey. Not... not Stella. At least, not like that". Mikey said quickly. Donnie rolled his eyes again. "Mikey, my love, I adore you but sometimes you really are just that stupid. Mikey you don't just act that way with just anybody. You only get comfortable with somebody like that after you've fallen for them. And I know that because I know you. So don't even try to argue". He said, leaning in to kiss the orange terrapin.

Mikey melted into the kiss, leaning in to deepen it before pulling back. "But wait. Isn't that a bad thing? You know, I'm already happily taken. On several accounts". He said, and if he had been wearing a wedding band then he would have flashed it in that moment. Donnie hummed. "Very true. But that doesn't mean that your heart doesn't have the capacity to love even more. Emotions are an interesting thing".

Mikey sighed. "I'm not in love with her". Mikey said firmly, but it seemed he was more so trying to tell himself that rather than Donnie. "Maybe not. But at the very least you want to fuck her, and that isn't exactly an everyday emotion you have with strangers either." Donnie said and Mikey groaned, knowing he was right. "I still feel bad..." Mikey confessed, sitting in a chair close to Donnie. Donnie turned his chair to him and leaned forward. "There's no need to feel bad, dearest it's not the emotions you feel but how you handle them. You of all people should know that". He said and Mikey flushed, muttering something about Dr. Feelings but was caught off by his brother kissing him.

"Now while you're here, what say you sit on my lap and uh... keep me warm, yeah?"

━━━━━━♡🩷♡━━━━━━

"Hey!" Casey's voice flowed into the living room where Chiyo was currently playing video games. "Mind if I join you?" He asked and Chiyo tossed him the spare controller. "Ready to lose?" Chiyo challenged and Casey laughed, plopping down beside the kitsune. "Ohohoho! You are so on!" He said back, quickly picking his character to fight the young woman.

The two of them gamed, winning match after match against one another. Eventually the two paused to get snacks before coming back to the little couch. "How's your day been, by the way?" Casey asked and Chiyo shrugged.

"Normal I guess. I hung out with Donnie today. And then Mikey came in and asked if kitsunes had pheromones? He said he was asking because he knows nothing about kitsunes but I don't know. Seems like an odd starter question". Chiyo asked, smashing the controller buttons to attack Casey. Casey just hummed in thought. "I don't know. You know Mikey better than I do so maybe this is just normal for him. I'd drop it but Stell's been acting weirdly too... I just feel like some things going on and I'm being left outta the loop". She said, slightly agitated.

"Ah. Everything's prolly fine. Stop worrying so much!" He said and Chiyo scoffed delivering a landing blow to Casey's character and taking him out. "No way! I was totally distracted! You cheated!" Casey shouted and Chiyo laughed in victory. "In your fucking face, loser!" She shouted back.

"You know, sounds like you're mad that this ole yokai, kicked your god damn ass. It's ok. No need to be so sour, Case". Chiyo sneered, smug grin plastered on her face. Casey groaned and stood up, Chiyo following his movements knowing that she was about to get some amusing speech from him. He took a step towards her, tripped over a Jupiter Jim action figure, and fell.

Time seemed to slow. Casey being launched forward and crashing into Chiyo. Chiyo's eyes widening as she felt herself slip backwards as she tried to escape the inevitable crash. The two of them crashed to the ground and into a pile of painfully twisted limbs and wrinkled clothing. "Oh fuck, Chiyo. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to crash us to the ground". Casey groaned out, lifting himself up onto his palms.

Chiyo stared up at him, face incredibly red. "Sorry I didn't grab anything during the fall did I?" He asked sheepishly and Chiyo huffed. "No, no. You just face planted into my breasts". She replied, looking away in embarrassment. Casey couldn't help but chuckle nervously as he got up, brushing himself up before stretching his hand out to the flustered woman in front of him.

"My lady". He said in a dramatic tone and Chiyo giggled, reaching up her hand to grip his. He easily pulled her up. Chiyo stumbled, falling into his arms, giggling as her face flushed brighter. "Oh clumsy me." She squeaked, ears pinned down apologetically. Casey just chuckled and Chiyo had to look elsewhere as she took a respectful step back. She did a small courtesy. "Thank you, my good sir". She said in her own dramatic tone.

The two of them giggled like little children at their own antics. "You're welcome, your Highness". He said grasping her hand knelling in front of her and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "This takes me back to theater class". Casey said before looking up at Chiyo. One hand clutched over her chest, the other still in his grasp, cheeks flushed, pupils dilated, chest ever so slightly heaving. "Y-Yes well, you always did better in theater than I did. I was more of a band kid". She said finally with a wave of her hand.

"Your C- in the class can definitely vouch for you". Casey teased, stepping up to tower over the woman. Chiyo scoffed, crossing her arms and looking away. "And your F can attest that I was clearly the better singer". Chiyo shot back and Casey groaned. "That was one time! I usually got a C or a D!" He complained and Chiyo snickered.

"You're still so easy to rile up". She teased and Casey growled. Fuck this woman brats just like fucking Leo does. He thought as he struggled to keep control. "You're such a damn brat, Chi". He hissed, shifting his weight to come closer to the kitsune. That blush was there again. Chiyo attempted to step back but Casey's hand snatched her wrist up, jerking her closer to him. "Think you're so big and bad Casey?" She murmured with a grin.

"Clearly you do with how red that face of yours is". He snarked, causing Chiyo to give an embarrassed glare. "I need to speak with my sister". She said, retreating into herself and smoothing her robes. "Oh yeah? About what?" He asked, tone taunting and Chiyo rushed off. "Pheromones!" Was all she said back with an exasperated huff.

Ik this chapter isn't as long as the others so I might double publish today and let out two chapters today. I kind of like it tho. :D Remember to block appropriate tags if you don't wish to see this fic and as always, be nice and enjoy. :3

Taglist: @cherrytreatsart

[miqolena]

6.4 Tataru's Grand Endeavor Thoughts

I'm not usually the type to share my thoughts on media so soon after consuming it because how I feel is usually just that - feelings, not thoughts - but I feel compelled to share how I felt for anyone who's curious. So I figured I'd think about it some and post what I decided here - posting on twitter before the embargo drops means jumping through annoying spoiler hoops like rot13 etc. Anyway here we go.

I'm not the kind of person who takes screenshots while I go through content for the first time. I find it distracting and cumbersome to look out for Photo Moments and capture them when my character isn't blinking or something. I'd rather focus entirely on what's going on. So I don't have many pictures to go with this, sorry!

I thought the premise of the conflict was neat enough. Like, someone stealing a giant mech? Oh boy, I wonder what's going to be the deal there. But I didn't like the Valens lookalike thing. It felt really... cheap. Like you bought a nice dress at the store but you need to buy one more thing to get a discount so you pick out something ratty and inexpensive but fine, and now you have them both, for better or worse. I was really hoping when Gaius struck him down that he had passed unilateral judgment upon him and killed him outright for the trouble. But New Gaius wouldn't do something like that, of course.

I enjoyed his characterization still. The writers didn't have him depart from his severe and even nature, his frank way of speaking. I was terrified that they would throw a curve ball at me that screamed "You've been doing it wrong for half a million words!!" but that didn't happen. I don't know why I worried. (I do know why. It's because I worry about everything.)

The painting was nice. Like a few other bits, I'll have to make adjustments to fit my canon when I write this in, since in my work Allie carries the memory core in a hip satchel made by Cid at nearly all times, which means it couldn't have been used by surprise to create the projection. I could take this opportunity to let her detach herself from it a little, though. Much to decide.

Gaius' (badly paraphrased) "words are hard sometimes, thanks a bunch" remark near the end really warmed my heart.

Overall it was okay. I didn't come out of it sobbing or overjoyed or anything but I did come out of it relieved that nothing overtly bad happened. Relief colors the whole experience; I anticipated the patch as one anticipates a blow to the body, not knowing where the strike would land. And I left 6.4 Tataru's Grand Endeavor feeling as though nothing had hit me after all.

I'm looking forward to trying to twist the story to maybe be something better than what it was, especially with my canon of tensions between Garlean refugees, Ala Mhigan Resistance soldiers, and Werlyt troops. Maybe the one who steals the mech won't be a Valens lookalike at all... maybe the nature of the theft will be dramatically different. We'll see.

As our supreme director says, please look forward to it.

PS: Gaius has a new idle after the quest is over where he is engrossed in a book, one leg folded over the other. It's adorable. Thank you for this food, devs.

[shylittlefrogg]

I know you saw they Shadybug special, what are your plans for Shady Firebug and Tabby?

Honestly, the fact that I already have plans and a separate file on this is really something.

About the special itself, I really like the pacing and how they did it, so I would keep the sequence of events pretty similar.

I'm mainly here with the Shady!Tabby and Firebug stories. I haven't really thought about names but I'll think of something (thinking a little about making Firebug a kind of praying mantis aesthetic)

Now I'm moving towards the stories and because my two children are emotionally stunted.

A note from TW earlier, I would say that child neglect and abuse....yes, Alt!verse is bad....

Roger is... a father, he's not good but he's not bad either, he's done things that have stunted Sabrina's view of the world, but he cares about her and lets her be her own person, hanging out with Chloe and Adrien. Now imagine that Roger is worse than that, he doesn't let Sabrina go out, the only way for her to hang out with other people is at school, the rest of the time she is locked in the house and has to study twice as hard because it is safer inside than outside.

She has no one... For a child she would be too much and if we add that Roger is almost never at home... The teenager Sabrina is so full of loneliness, exhaustion, hatred.

This Sabrina is almost a parallel to Adrien but she is more angry with the world, with her father. She doesn't even remember her mother so she's never met anyone who cares about her.... Sabrina, Our Sabrina, can't fully understand her, but she does, because she remembers the time when she didn't know Chloe yet and She was alone and stayed at home because what else could she do??? She doesn't fully understand her, but she does, she understands her pain.

Then we have Nathaniel, I haven't really said it but his mother and father in my canon are separated for some reasons related to domestic abuse.

It's okay, Nathaniel is fine now, he was more worried about his mother than his, but that situation has been going on for a while and everything is better now.

But if that hadn't been resolved....Shady!Nathaniel still has his family together, at the cost of his own safety and that of his mother. He can sometimes protect her, sometimes he can be the hurt one, he can be the one who yells and makes her father angry so that she doesn't get hurt.

He hates him, he hates more that he cannot kill his father with his own hands just because he is one of the people under the command of the supreme.

Not to mention that Nathaniel broke off his friendship with Alix because she was being annoying, she was having rebellious thoughts and he...he doesn't really want to hurt her...so it's better to stay away, pretend to hate her...

Alt!Nathaniel usually wears a lot of makeup, much more than just the scars from the powers...

yes, the redemption situation with Nathaniel will be the most difficult

Okay, this has already weighed on my thoughts.

anyway, here's a little sketch of my alternate introverts ideas

[theliterarywolf]

If Barbie was trying to go for a "both extremes are bad" angle, they did a poor job. Even if ST!Barbie apologized to ST!Ken for taking him for granted, that doesn’t change their society as a whole. The Kens still have no say in anything, and that’s treated as just fine. Hell, they asked for ONE supreme court justice and got turned down. I can see why people are annoyed when the real world is shown as a sexist nightmare, but the inverted version is portrayed as fine even though in some ways /1

it’s worse. The real world HAS female supreme court justices. Like, being a Ken SUCKS, and it doesn't get acknowledged or get better at the end of the movie. They’re just told to "find out who they are without Barbie", which really doesn't work when Ken was literally created to be Barbie's boyfriend. We can have an ongoing scene talking about how awful it is to be a woman, but actually addressing that the Kens are essentially second-class citizens? Nah. We’re just gonna joke about how they don’t matter. Multiple times. I expected some kind of equality in Barbieland at the end of the movie, now that they’d seen how bad the other extreme was, but no. “Everything back to normal except now maybe the Kens will bother us less”, and that’s the good ending. It was disappointing. (And before anyone asks, I'm a girl) /3

Okay, but if you watched my video, I pretty much say:

"Barbieland is seen as a net-positive... for the Barbies."

You'll notice how often posts about 'the protagonist of a story is not always the hero of a story'. Us as the audience can see that Barbieland is a magical dystopia ruled by toxic-femininity, that the Big Barbie Barage isn't a group of heroes going up against an evil foe, but the equivalent of toddlers screaming 'My turn!!'/'No, MY turn!!' over a playhouse set.

The new status-quo at the end isn't an ideal, it's a bandaid.

Actually, this response ran a bit long, so...

The whole Supreme Court thing... While, yes, it is still kind of 'come on, now' that President Barbie says no, 1. you can kind of understand why she doesn't want to give the time of day after everything that just happened, and 2. she grants them an Appellate Court. So there is at least a step in the right direction there.

Yes, Ken (as a concept) was originally created to be Barbie's boyfriend/husband/support, in subsequent decades even Mattel has tried to stem away from that. Hell, they actually broke up in the 90s! I'm surprised that a lot of people forget that. And, as a mirror...

Hold on, I have to reconcile with myself that I'm going to make this comparison. ...Okay.

In Judeo-Christian faiths, Eve is literally created to be a support and mate for Adam (being created from the rib, or established foundation, of Adam). Yet, women have eventually had to come and realize that they are more than that and that they can find their own identities and purpose.

Could the movie have presented a comparison like this a bit better? Yes. However, that's what that part was supposed to mirror.

But the whole thing shows a series of checks and balances. The real world does have fields that are typically male-only. Sometimes people who have talents for certain jobs aren't allowed to have them. Like America Ferrera's character clearly shows a love and talent for fashion and doll-design... But they have her as a secretary.

And, yes, we do have women on the Supreme Court. The... same Supreme Court that has also been fumbling the bag in recent news. So they aren't perfect for having some pussy on board either.

I mean, it's pretty clear that Barbieland wasn't a utopia at the beginning of the film or at the end of the film when Stereotypical Barbie essentially embraces death and chooses to live as a human in the real world at the end.

[sdyuteiaok]

All right, MTGinktober 9 in the books. But there's no time to reflect too deeply--so hopefully we can stave off the post-Inktober depression--cuz it's time to get back on the virtual phone-banking campaign trail. I signed up for two shifts today since apparently I didn't have anything scheduled until the weekend--I was surprised there weren't events all day, but I realized it's Friday, so even if there were, it doesn't make sense to bug voters during the day--those almost always don't go well the few times I've done it, and you risk annoying voters more than anything, and I'm sure the places we're calling are already inundated with contacts. So the marathon starts a little later in the day, but I've also got an additional meeting for my longest-standing group, since I volunteered to do some additional work for them. As for Inktober, as always, we close with a whimper. We only had a couple mega hits, but a lot of sorta regular responses, and only a couple duds, too, but even those have picked up over time. You have to allow for people to discover these things, so sometimes it can take a tiny bit before a piece finds its legs. Anyway, I always sorta take at least a quick accounting of how things went, even if I don't have time to get into my feelings on everything, and I'm happy to report that this was physically maybe the best Inktober in a while--no real pain past the first week while my body adjusted to the pace and intensity, and even my fingers stopped losing their numbness, so my hand really stepped up. No back or shoulder pain at any time, either. The only difficulty was the sheer exhaustion towards the end, but even then, we were able to power through. I used chocolate milk this time, no energy drinks of any kind for once, and that and adrenaline did the trick just fine. And then this was also the neatest MTGinkotber: no serious smears, except for the one on Camp, and no errors or goofs (like two left hands, forgotten costume part), aside from some eraser gunk getting in one of my scans, and then that one time I accidentally closed CSP without saving my organized references. So pretty successful all around, and while I've enjoyed the 'Gram feature of being able to pair your art with music, this has affirmed that it's time to wind down that service. I used to get some 30x the engagement, and now I can barely scrape together one or two likes per image, and the insights say maybe 10 people are seeing these things, so it's clear the platform isn't putting my stuff out there, so I'm not going to fight it. I wonder if it has something to do with my settings, but who knows. It's supremely frustrating, as Instagram used to be quite populous, but it's just hollowed out, and I certainly hear that from other artists, too, including their viewership tanking. I suppose I could try some video-based stuff, but I have zero time to prepare that kind of thing most days during Inktober. I tried mocking up a little 3-second process video, but it's just annoying and probably not even too compelling. If I had an assistant, or more time, mize, but it's just me doing everything, and I'd rather spend that on the actual art than all this showboating. Anyway, good year personally, but I believe next year will be the finale, as I can't justify continuing to do this, I hate to admit. Anyway, let's get back to campaigning already--I have a lot of news to catch up on, too, as again, I drop just about everything for Inktober, so for a month I'm kind of a low-info voter.

[randomshyperson]

Sweet Us - Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: An accident with interdimensional portals takes you to a world where you are married to your best friend. For a certain black widow, it's a great opportunity to torment you. Or, the one where you have feelings for Wanda and sometimes you just need to visit the version of you who had the guts to tell her. | Requested

Warnings: (+18), a little bit of everything from angst, bad jokes and happy ending, some milf!wanda was well, friends to lovers, kissing, nudity, avengers being a family, some drinking, several references to comics and series inside jokes, emo wanda, mild angst, everyone is homosexual 'cause i said so, car sex in the end, strap on use, bottom!wanda, reader being a simp in every world | Words: 12.555k

A/N-> A friend from A03 asked me for this one and she had asked for a comedy and I put in several angst scenes for free. Anyway, I think it worked. Now I still have a fic from a very old request for Spider!Reader that I should post next week. Hope you like this one!

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

--//--//--

Sweet Us - Wanda Maximoff x Reader

The Multiverse was at war.

It didn't start in your world, however. In fact, according to Stephen Strange, the supreme of your reality, the war wasn't actually even in its infancy. He just knew that things had gotten out of hand and that the Avengers would be a good help in keeping the dangers at bay.

Therefore, Tony and Vision created special teams to help the sorcerers - In Tony's words, a glitter cleaning team (No one was offended, everyone was sure it was jealousy since Iron Man couldn't do magic) and you were one of the names on the Black Widow team. 

Obviously, Natasha was the leader. You, like her, were part of the Red Room in your childhood. The third was Yelena, and she didn't want to join the mission because Kate Bishop was coming back to the compound this weekend and she wanted to be a good friend.

You understood and said fine. Natasha was annoyed.

"It's her job, Y/N!" Complained the redhead for the hundredth time on the way to the Sanctum Sanctorum beside you. "If she doesn't help us to protect the universe, she can wave goodbye to movie nights with her girlfriend."

You sighed lightly. "But she hasn't seen Kate in months, Nat! It's normal to miss each other..."

"I don't even know why I'm trying to explain this to you." Natasha interrupted irritably, her hands busy reviewing ammunition (a Yelena task) while you drove the truck. "Of course, you understand well what Yelena is going through."

You frowned slightly. "What did you mean by that?"

But Nat only laughed dryly, ignoring your quibble and going back to check to see if the guns were loaded.

Usually, Stephen's missions were simple. Making sure the interdimensional cracks were closed in time and dealing with any kind of threat that might have escaped through them.

But as soon as you made the curve in the avenue, and you had to brake the car to avoid hitting the number of running pedestrians, you and Natasha knew it would be different than last time.

Natasha quickly slung a gun in your lap and opened the doors, and you wasted no time in running with her toward the confusion. Soon you could see the cosmic monstrosity that was happening there.

Right on top of the Sanctum Sanctorum, an extradimensional cathedral had opened. Stephen and some other magicians were floating around, trying to keep the creatures under control, and they seemed to be doing a good job. But extra weapons were always useful.

Exchanging a look with Natasha, you moved into the fray, and you had to put all your widow training into practice to stay away from the tentacled creatures advancing out of the colored cracks.

On a roll behind a car, your cell phone rang. You answered the call using the helmet of the uniform you and Natasha were wearing.

A small window became visible in your field of vision, and the image of a sleepy Wanda Maximoff with slightly tousled hair and scratching her eyes appeared and sped up your heart more than the surrounding monsters.

"Good morning Witchy, what can I do for you?" You asked in the gentlest tone you could manage, as your fingers worked to reload your gun. Explosions boomed behind you.

"dobroye utro, milaya ('morning sweetheart)..." She started with a yawn. "Y/N, have you seen my Imagine Dragons t-shirt? I can't find it anywhere and I was going to wear it to the show later."

"Yeah, it's in my closet-ouch!" A small exclamation of pain cut off your speech because some of the creatures threw an acid that corroded half the car and dripped onto your sleeve. Wanda was immediately alarmed.

"What was that, Y/N? Where are you...?"

"ARE YOU REALLY ON THE PHONE WITH YOUR GIRLFRIEND IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FIGHT?" Natasha shouted from across the street in indignation and thank god it was too far away for Wanda to hear. You grunted a little.

"We ended up in a conflict before we got to the sanctum, darling. No big deal, just a few more little magic monsters." You said, and Wanda's face grew even more worried.

"I'll dress up in a minute, I can help-"

"No, no, you're off duty." You interrupt her immediately, shaking your head and having to throw yourself to the side to keep a tentacle from holding you. "Wanda, go get some breakfast, and the blouse-Shit!" You hush to defend a blow, ducking and Wanda tries to look past the camera but to no avail. You return to the video breathless and with a helmet full of blood on the outside (Not that she can see). "Your blouse is at the top of my closet, wear it with that black skirt it will look great! I-I'll meet you and Pietro at the door of the show, okay? Seven-thirty. As we agreed."

Wanda hesitates, clearly worried about the muffled confusion around you. You soften your expression though you can feel a cut burning in your stomach. 

"I'm fine, Wands. I'll come home, I promise."

You never lie to her, especially if it is a promise. So she smiles, swallows dryly the anticipation, and trusts you.

"I'll be waiting, dorogoya. Seven-thirty, don't be late." She says before hanging up.

But the fight seems to get worse after that. Or maybe it's the cut on your stomach, which slows you down.

Natasha steps back to give you cover, and for a moment, it looks like you are winning. You see Stephen controlling the largest of the Monsters, and the mages closing most of the cracks.

You turn to tell Natasha that you have landed more hits than she has, but the redhead is already running toward you to get you out of range of the car that one of the monsters has thrown in your direction.

You both roll a little on impact, but you're fine. 

"You could have knocked me down a little more gently, Romanoff." You mutter to irritate her as you massage her shoulder. But Natasha is looking forward with wide eyes.

When you look and see the crack that you have passed through - and which was now closing in at high speed - you also widen your eyes. 

You stand up to try to stop it, but it is already too late. The portal had already closed.

"Okay. Okay. Don't panic." You gasp with your hand on your stomach, looking to where the crack was, but where now there are only streets. And what was once a chaotic fight with a crowd fleeing monsters, has turned into a quiet boulevard with pedestrians looking strangely at the blood-covered uniforms you and Natasha were wearing. 

"Let's try to be positive. Maybe we've gone to a nice world." You try but Natasha is drawing her pistol again, turning toward something behind you.

Black pickup trucks arrive at high speed and park, surrounding the area. Pedestrians run away and you swallow dryly, feeling a little dizzy. You can feel the cut dripping down your stomach as well.

"Let me do the talking." Natasha murmurs to you, as you watch masked agents step out of cars with rifles that are clearly far more advanced than anything you have in your world.

They all carried the Iron Legion symbol in a brooch on their chests, perhaps that's why Natasha lowered her gun to the ground and stepped forward with her hands in the air.

"We're not here for trouble." She tried, but one of the soldiers stepped forward.

"Identify yourselves outsiders." Demanded the male voice. You swallowed dryly as you noticed the iron hand that held a smaller type of iPad. 

"I am Natasha-"

"Reason for the Journey, not names." Cut the serious man - Or you imagined the expression by the tone of his voice. Like everyone else, he wore an iron mask that covered much of his face. But the long hair and green eyes were familiar enough for you and Nat not to despair. She swallowed dryly.

"Bucky, we are travelers from another universe, we are not here to cause trouble." Natasha tried as she stepped forward, but the mention of the name only made everyone tense up. The soldier put down his iPad and drew his gun. Nat stopped walking. 

"Reason for travel, I won't ask again!" He shouted demanding, and Natasha sighed slightly. She opened her mouth to reply, trying to decide how she was going to explain all of Strange's confusion when she heard a motorcycle noise. Bucky's variant let out an impatient grunt, but the vehicle was already parking next to the truckers, and someone got off.

"You're losing your touch, Barnes." Mocked the agent who got down, and before you could mutter to Natasha that it was a hell of an entrance, the woman was pulling a knife from her ankle and advancing on you two. Natasha wasted no time in reacting, of course, masterfully matching the blows.

"You're trespassing, illusionist." Said the soldier between one hit and another. You tried to help Natasha, but Bucky's variant attacked you and the metal arm kept you busy enough.

"It's not an illusion!" Natasha defended herself without stopping the fighting. 

"It's not, heh? If you really are Natalia, tell me something only I would know." Demanded the woman, making the redhead laugh confusedly.

"I don't even know who you are." Justified the widow, and ended up getting hit in the legs that knocked her down.

"Wrong answer, evil clone." Retorted the other. Fortunately, you had trained enough with Bucky to know exactly how to defeat him and had just hit him when Natasha fell. You only had time to run and throw yourself against the agent to prevent your friend from getting hit in the face.

The wound on your stomach throbbed with the impact, and you squirmed on the ground, trying to get up beyond the pain because you heard the other soldier doing the same next to you. Natasha ran into a range to you, helping you up and taking a few steps back. You both raised your fists at the Soldier getting up, but Natasha hesitated when they took off her glasses that were scratched in the fall.

"You take the right and I'll take the left, okay?" You directed but Natasha was lowering her hands. You frowned in confusion. "Nat, by god, she's coming, what the hell are you doing?"

The soldier started walking, and you swallowed dryly. Nat didn't hesitate. "Take off your helmet, Y/N."

"Do you want her to hit me in the head? Or worse one of the soldiers?" You asked in desperation. 

Natasha grunted impatiently, and when the soldier moved forward, she spun her body skillfully and used the same blow you never knew how to defend, effectively knocking the other woman to the ground. 

"No matter the world, you never watch the knees, do you баламут (troublemaker)? Mocks the widow, pinning the soldier beneath her, a victorious smile on her face. You frown in indignation.

"I thought you only called me that..." You mutter in annoyance, and Natasha sighs impatiently.

"By God, Y/N! Hasn't it become obvious yet? Take off your helmet, and help me before they shoot us." She shouted, and despite your grimace, you capably obeyed.

As soon as your helmet came off, the soldiers hesitated and lowered their weapons. Bucky - who was getting up - widened his eyes and made no attempt to attack.

The woman trapped underneath Natasha stopped struggling.

"I'm going to take yours off now, okay?" Natasha asked the soldier, who stood still waiting. 

As soon as the iron mask came off, and you saw your own face, you were completely speechless.

But only for half a second.

"Oh my God! It's me! I'm so cool! Did you see the way I arrive on the bike? Where did I learn to ride a motorcycle! And this leather jacket looks amazing on me! And see the way everybody put down their guns and let me fight alone? I'm like a super powerful leader, aren't I? My God this is so cool! 

Natasha laughed incredulously, and got off your variant, helping you to stand while you looked around excitedly.

"Like I said, it's not an illusion." Said the widow. "We are from another world. It was an accident to end up here."

Your variant swallows dryly, exchanging a glance with Bucky - who is standing and sort of at a loss for words with you praising the improvements his mechanical arm has received in this world - before sighing lightly.

"I'll take them to the compound, Barnes. Take the team to take care of the breaches they've opened up in the north." Your variant directs, and Bucky seems quite content to evade your comments, gesturing for the team to follow him.

In record time, the pickup trucks and soldiers are gone, and you and Natasha stand facing the motorcycle.

"You can't fit three on a motorcycle..." You mutter softly, making your variant chuckle. She moves to take something off the dashboard of the vehicle, and you realize that it is one of the rings that Strange owns. And that might explain how cars get to places so quickly in this universe.

She opens a portal into the street, and you walk through to end up in the front yard of the Avengers Complex.

"Are you writing this stuff down, Romanoff? Strange could lend us those rings." You whisper to the widow beside you, who shakes her head, hiding a smile.

"Why did you bring us here?" Natasha asks your variant, who is dragging the shut-down motorcycle to the entrance. 

"You need to give some statements, paperwork for multiversal travelers." She replies, parking the motorcycle before turning to you two again. "And well, the Legion of Ultron takes care of those matters."

You and Nat swallow dry, exchanging shocked looks. It is by following your variant that you realize that the Avengers' symbol is not on the door of the compound but the same as the Iron Legion's - or Ultron's - like the one on the brooch on their uniforms.

"Ultron worked out in this world then?" Natasha asks casually, and your variant lets out an impressed laugh.

"You guys know him?" She asked. You scratch the back of your head.

"Yeah, something like that." You mumble because you don't think it would be a good idea to say that he was a supervillain in your world and that you and Wanda destroyed his last body together.

It seemed like a good enough answer for your variant.

"The guy's a pain in the ass if you ask me." Retorted the variant. "But if you're fans, he stays in the Tower basically always, because he can work inside his own head. You can ask for an autograph before you leave."

Natasha giggles, muttering that it wasn't okay in the sense that she had no interest in asking the robot for autographs, but you barely heard it because you were impressed with the inside of this world's compound.

Everything was so clean and luxurious, and the painting of that legion of Ultron on the wall of the living room attracted your immediate attention. All the Avengers were there, and they were a few years older. The image of yourself smiling and with an arm around a redheaded Wanda made you interrupt the conversation.

"This girl. That you hug in the picture. Are you friends here?" You ask, and your variant raises a surprised eyebrow.

Natasha rolls her eyes. " Of course, you and Wanda are besties everywhere, Y/N, can we get back to adult business now?" Retorts the impatient widow having been interrupted in her questioning about going back to her own world, but your variant lets out a small laugh.

"It's all right, Natalia, in a new world I too would be curious to know where my wife is."

Your smile fades immediately, and Natasha's shock only lasts half a second.

"I beg your pardon?" She questions with a dry laugh. "Did you say wife? Are you married? You?"

Your variant laughs awkwardly, approaching the frame next to you. "Yes, for a few years actually." She starts by nodding to the picture. "That was taken in the first year of the legion, we called ourselves the Avengers back there. It was cool, but while I'm not much of a fan of the microwave, I have to admit that Ultron has improved everything. It's nice not to have any tragedies to avenge, you know?" You counter with a slightly nostalgic smile, lowering your hands and putting them in your pockets. "We had quieter years, I was able to start a family. Wanda and I got married just before we were promoted."

You had your mouth hanging open in shock. Natasha was biting back a smile, trying not to start laughing at your face.

"Wow, what a beautiful story." She commented with a slight tease that your variant didn't catch. "And were you guys friends or was it already a more direct thing with dating and sex in the compound?"

The variant gave a shy, confused laugh, evidently surprised at the straightforward curiosity. You grunted in shame, unable not to imagine the situation, and closed your eyes for a moment to control your own thoughts.

"Sorry, you and Wanda are not a couple in your universe?" Your variant asks tenderly, and Natasha giggles from your side as you try to control the red in your cheeks.

"N-no, we... um, no." You stammer.

"They're living a friends to lovers, I'd say." Natasha murmurs, and your variant gives a chuckle at the way you cross your arms in a sulk, your face burning like your ears. 

Natasha seemed intent on continuing to torment you, but someone crosses the hallway and you roll your eyes at the sight of Peggy Carter in front of you. You only know her from Steve's pictures and the Shield paintings, and it is impactful to say the least to see her standing in front of you.

"Y/N, I just got the notification from Bucky." She says seriously, her gaze on you and Nat. "We don't bring travelers into the compound, but seeing them, I already understand the exception." Says Peggy, to which your variant just nods.

"Is Wanda back yet? Someone has to take care of the trial and T'Challa is in Wakanda until next week." Your variant said, but before Peggy could respond, Nat steps forward.

"Trial?" She asks indignantly, but her variant softens her expression.

"It's just what we call it, Natalia." She replies. "We have rules for interdimensional travel, all are administered by the Council. It's dangerous to mess with the multiverse, everything has to be well taken care of to avoid catastrophes. When two variants appear in the middle of New York, we need to know what they were doing here."

Natasha sighs slightly, deciding to trust. It was you, after all. 

You, on the other hand, are trying to look at the shield Peggy carries on her back. She gives a little giggle when she notices, taking the item out to show you.

"So cool!" You comment excitedly, running your hand over the flag. "We have a Captain America on our world, his name is Sam Wilson, maybe you know him?"

"Oh, sure, he's our Captain America too." Peggy retorts with a smile. "He took over the shield after Steve Rogers. And I'm Captain Carter."

"Oh, that makes sense." You murmur nodding. "It's nice that you and Steve were able to stay together in this world."

Peggy frowns slightly, chuckling lightly. "Um, actually, Steve isn't...well, we were partners. In the war, before the ice. But now, well, he and Barnes got married in the fall." She tells you and you widen your eyes in surprise. "And I'm... um, I'm Margaret Carter Romanova now."

Natasha chokes in surprise, turning redder than her own hair. You can't hold back your giggle.

"You married Steve's ex-girlfriend? Sweet Jesus, Natalia, congratulations, really. I'll never let that one go." You teased and Nat grunted loudly, but the variants only chuckled lightly.

"There's time until the trial, and you guys could use a bath." Your variant spoke, clearly trying to dim the awkwardness of the conversation. "Come, I'll take you to, well, your rooms." Joked last.

You would have scoffed at the way Natasha tripped over her own feet as she passed Peggy - who muttered to her that she was very pretty in all universes - but you were too excited to see the rest of the compound.

Despite the different decorations - from pictures or coats of arms - in general it was quite similar to the one in your world. You found it funny that your room in that reality was on the other side of the tower, however.

"I imagine you know the showers trick." Asked your variant as she led you inside, and you laughed, nodding in agreement. "You can wear anything from the dresser, we're the same size after all. I'll see if I can get you guys something to eat. And I'll check if the operations with Bucky go smoothly. Make yourselves at home." Said your variant, before leaving the room.

Natasha turned her face and her gaze was full of mischief.

"So you actually want to marry Maximoff..."

"Choose your words well, Romanoff. You hooked up with your best friend's ex." You retort quickly and Nat chokes in shock. She closes her mouth with an irritated grumble and you giggle. "Let's get this over with soon, and you can torment me later."

"Oh, believe me, I'll torment you later." She retorts mockingly but is moving away toward the door. "And what can we do but wait? Strange is probably looking for us right now, which means we should take advantage of the time we have here."

"Nat, please stay out of trouble..."

"Or please, the баламут here is you." She retorts with a chuckle as she opens the door. "And I'm just curious what my life is like here. Come on, it's not every day we get to go to a different universe. If I were you, I'd go snoop around, maybe find out how you and Wanda ended up under a tree..."

You grunt in embarrassment, grabbing one of the pillows from the bed to throw at Natasha, but by the time you do, she is laughing her way out the door.

Sighing heavily, you decide that if Natasha is going to be looking around for trouble, someone of you should behave. For now, you need a bath.

Your room is evidently the largest in the world, especially the closet that your variant humbly calls a dresser.

You let your fingers run through the suits and uniforms until you reach a kind of dressing table, where you let out a soft sigh when you find a picture in the mirror.

Red hair suits Wanda. In the photo, she is sitting on your lap, while you kiss her cheek. You are both smiling, and what is most different from your world are the golden rings on your fingers.

You swallow dryly, returning the photo to its place and letting your attention fall to the fighting equipment your variant keeps there. The iron mask has its replacements in the top drawer, and you are curious to know how it feels.

Putting it on, you face your reflection. It's nice. You're considering telling Tony when you come back for a new design on your uniform when you hear footsteps approaching and a voice that makes you stumble with fright.

"lyubovʹ moya, ty tak dolgo (my love, you took so long)" Wanda comments as soon as she enters the closet and you swallow dry, ready to explain the whole story, but she walks over to you and hugs you tight and you can only sigh deeply. Once she looks at you again, she gives a little giggle at the mask, "I always forget how hot you look in this."

Oh.

Your cheeks blush, heavily, and you are grateful for the mask. Wanda kisses you on the neck and you almost become a complete mess. She doesn't seem to notice, pulling away and going back to saying something about the mission being over earlier than expected, and her looking for you, but you're trying to decide how you're going to explain everything and stop shaking.

All thoughts fade away when Wanda simply takes off her shirt.

Your breath catches, and you know that your face must be the same color as her hair. With trembling legs, you sit down in the closet chair, and Wanda - oblivious to all this - simply works to remove her bra and turns around with her torso exposed to you.

"[...] Anyway, that Bishop girl has been hanging around the house a lot, don't you think? I've asked America dozens of times, but she keeps evading the subject. Billy and Tommy refuse to tell on their sister, but I'm going to find out if they're dating." Wanda comments, but you're in shock, staring at her bare breasts without reaction. At your realization, she raises an eyebrow. "Malysha, are you listening to me?" She asks with some amusement, placing a hand on her waist and you gasp slightly.

"Jesus christ." You mumble affectedly, finally looking away and not risking looking up again. Wanda watches your reaction with amusement. 

"All these years and you're still speechless at the sight of me without clothes..." She murmurs approaching and you are opening your mouth to start explaining, but Wanda is straddling your lap and you find that you have lost the ability to breathe. "If we were quick, we can have some fun before the appointment this afternoon. Do that thing I like with your tongue..." She teased softly, hips grinding against yours and taking away your ability to think properly.

"Wanda, god, I'm not-"

"Wow, that's something." Interrupted someone from the doorway and Wanda screamed. She stumbled away from you, covering her torso with one arm, a mixture of horror and confusion on her face. But your variant, arms crossed from the doorway, was laughing. "I can only remember when I said I dreamed I kissed another version of you and you made me sleep on the couch. Now, look how the tables have turned."

Wanda grunted indignantly, "Explain yourself, Y/N! Now!" She demanded, still in shock that she was seeing two versions of yourself. Your variant didn't stop smiling but uncrossed her arms.

You heard something about multiverse but the wound in your stomach throbbed painfully and everything started to go dark. 

When you blinked again, you were lying in an infirmary. And Natasha beside you.

"Hey." You greet in a hoarse voice, and soon let out an exclamation of pain from the slap you got from Romanoff on the arm.

"Why the hell didn't you say you were hurt?" She questioned as you massaged the twinge and sat up in bed.

"I didn't think it was serious." You justified yourself feeling your whole body aching. "And the super serum has to be good for something."

"The serum doesn't make you immortal, Y/N! God, if I let you die in another world Wanda turns me into a frog." Grumbled the redhead making you chuckle lightly.

"She's not that kind of witch." You say, but Nat shakes her head.

"Oh, that's not what I heard." Says the redhead, nodding her head at the couple talking outside the room. Wanda and your variant are talking very close, and when they exchange intense smiles, and the variant takes Wanda's hand and kisses it before saying goodbye, you turn your blushing face away.

"What do you mean?" You ask Nat, who sighs a little.

"You blacked out for a few hours, Y/N. The trial is over."

"W-what?"

"Relax, it all worked out." Nat soothes you by forcing you back into a sitting position when you make mention of getting up. "They've had some bad experiences with travelers in this world, and now they keep things under control. They were waiting for you to wake up to send us back."

You absorb the information in shock, and before you can question further, Wanda is back. She opens the door and offers you such a tender smile that you suddenly feel very aware that you are only in a top because of the bandage they made on your belly.

"You're awake, dorogoya." She greeted, and you were too busy hiding your flushed face to notice Natasha's little smile beside you. "How are you feeling?"

"G-good." You murmured watching her approach the bed until she was close enough to touch your face. "Natalia already told you about the trial, I imagine."

"Mm-hmm." You merely replied, knowing that you would have no ability to formulate any answer with Wanda caressing your cheek like that.

She smiled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear before commenting, "God, you're so young. This is so odd."

You laugh shyly. "You don't look old." 

That wasn't entirely true. Wanda was older than the one you knew, but that may be because you have all the traits of her face memorized, and your Wanda has no age wrinkles yet. Regardless, the version in front of you is absurdly gorgeous.

She chuckles a little. "You are sweet, but I am old enough to be a mother in this world." She murmurs as she pulls her hand away, you were going to complain about the lack, but she sits down beside you. "And indeed, I am."

You widen your eyes softly, but Natasha doesn't seem the least bit surprised, a little smile lingers on her face.

"Do you have children?" You ask curiously, and Wanda smiles, nodding in agreement. "Cool. They... are they ours?"

She bites her lip thoughtfully, and you imagine that there must be rules about what and how much to say about the multiverse. Wanda may have decided to ignore them all.

"Yes, they are ours." She replies, her hands moving to check the bandage on your belly. "America, not by blood, is our older. We adopted her when she was 6, she's the naughtiest girl I know. And then the twins came. William and Thomas. They are our biological children."

You give a lopsided laugh. "Is that, like, possible in this world?"

It's Wanda's turn to laugh, her cheeks turning slightly pink.

"Oh, dorogoya, believe me, we figured that out." That's what she replies, and you'll accept it as enough because you've suddenly allowed yourself to think about the attempts and the heat that has surged in your body makes you embarrassed. Wanda realizes that everything is okay with the bandage, and sighs slightly. "If you are really feeling well, everything is ready for you two to go."

You swallow dryly, nodding and forcing a smile at Wanda.

"Hey, Wands." You call out to her before she can get up. "Sorry." That's what you say, surprising her. "F-for not saying I wasn't your wife. And for seeing your boobs."

"Wow, excuse me?" Natasha cuts in with a laugh that Wanda accompanies. You blush heavily, but Maximoff gestures slightly.

"It's okay, sweetie." Wanda assures you. "My wife also gets tongue-tied around me. It's a good reaction, I suppose." 

"Well, you're super gorgeous, so it's not our fault." You mutter getting a shy chuckle from the other, but Natasha grunts softly.

"And you guys are super gay. I'm going to get something to eat before we go, Y/N." Annunciates the redhead before leaving the room, and you and Wanda exchange giggles as you were left alone.

Once the giggles cease, she reaches for your hand on the bed.

"Promise me you're okay?" She asks low, and you swallow dryly at the strong deja vu. Wanda is Wanda in all worlds.

"I'm fine, it was just a scratch. I promise." You assured her making her smile slightly. Next, you let your curiosity prevail. "Where did I go?"

Her smile didn't go off. "Home, of course." She says. "We work at the Tower, but our home is in Massachusetts." She tells surprising you.

"We live with the witches, huh?" you joke and it's Wanda's turn to be surprised.

She hesitates a bit, curiosity shining in her eyes as she draws patterns on her hand.

"Your Wanda...she's not a witch?"

You bite the inside of your cheek, half thoughtfully. "Well, technically, no? Her powers are super cool, and when she was with Hydra, she did some stuff with people's fears and everyone started calling her a witch. But she only does energy stuff and stopped with the mind control thing. The nickname little witch caught on, but she doesn't really do spells."

"But the powers, where did they come from?" She insists, and you shrug softly.

"From the mind stone, I guess." You reply. "That's what I know."

Wanda forces a smile, nodding and stopping her caresses on your hand. "I am a witch, Y/N. And I think your Wanda is too."

"Well, that's cool, I love magic and so does Wanda." You casually retort, getting a small giggle from the other.

"Malysha, listen to me carefully, okay?" She asks looking into your eyes. "I have met a few versions of myself in this extensive multiverse. None that have had their magic amplified by an Infinity Stone before. Your Wanda may be a special kind of us."

"Oh, like royalty?" You ask receiving a frown in return. A small smile forms on your lips. "I usually call her princess too. It would be nice to know I got another nickname right."

Wanda laughs softly, her eyes full of affection. "You really like her, don't you?"

You swallow dryly, evading the hidden meaning in her words. "S-She's my best friend."

The redhead doesn't seem to be impacted much by the correction. She smiles. 

"If I'm right, Wanda will be the Scarlet Witch one day."

You blink in confusion. "I don't know what that means."

"And you don't need to know." She says, placing a hand on your face. "Not now. You're young, she is too, isn't she?" She asks and you nod quickly. Wanda smiles, "You have time. Enjoy that innocence now, that freedom. If she really is the Scarlet Witch, the power and responsibility don't come for free."

You frowned in concern, raising your hand to her forearm. "Wands, what are you talking about?"

But she smiles, shaking her head. "It's not my place to tell your story, dear." She says as she strokes her skin. "Please, just be there for her. She's going to need you. I always do."

You swallow dryly but force a smile. "I promise."

Wanda smiles, and you hold your breath as she approaches. She kisses your cheek, and you know you are blushing hard. 

"Go get dressed, I'll make sure your Natasha didn't destroy something else." Declares Wanda as she walks away, and you frown in confusion.

"What did she destroy before?" you ask getting only a chuckle in return.

Many minutes later, you are wearing a completely clean uniform with a pouting Natasha Romanoff at your side. - She didn't like that the Legion of Ultron people wouldn't let her destroy another of the small statues of Vision (which in this world was Ultron) scattered around the compound. In her words 'microwave third wheel deserves no tribute'.

You were very pleased that some members of the Legion came to say goodbye to you.

Peggy even let you hold the shield before you left. And you were too busy talking to Wanda to notice the flirtations the captain threw at Nat only to see her blush.

"I think you would like to have this." Wanda said as she handed one of the masks to you, and got you to widen your eyes. 

"She-I mean, I won't mind?" You ask, and Wanda giggles.

"It was my wife who asked me to deliver it." She explains, and you take the item from her hands. "I think she'd like to give it to you, but someone has to make sure Billy and Tommy do their homework. And part of her got the impression that you'd like to see me by your bedside when you wake up."

You blushed again, babbling embarrassedly, which only increased Wanda's smile.

"Thanks for the mask, witchy. Really." You murmur and she moves closer to hug you almost tight enough that your bruise hurts. No chance for you to complain, Wanda could keep her arms around you as long as she wanted.

"Sorry to break the moment, love birds, but I think we'd better go soon." Natasha said as she approached with her arms crossed, and her face half flushed. "Our friends must be worried."

Wanda waved goodbye as she let you go, and you smiled at her before joining Nat. 

After the conversation, you weren't surprised that the return spell was done by Wanda, and you just arranged to wave goodbye to the Legion before entering the portal with Natasha.

The scenery of the compound was replaced by the interiors of the Sanctum Sanctorum, where Stephen Strange stumbled away from spell books toward you two.

"Romanoff! L/N! You are here!" He announced in amazement, but Natasha rolled her eyes.

"And we did it on our own, mister Supreme!" She scoffed.

"But it was Wanda who did the spell..." You muttered low, receiving an elbow from the widow who forgot you were injured and scrambled to help you stand when you howled in pain.

Stephen used his cape to float to you quickly.

"How long have we been gone?" Nat asked holding you as you squeezed the bruise gently.

"Long enough." Stephen replied. "I alerted your team, and was trying to find the spell to take to me and -"

But Stephen didn't even have to complete, because a female figure was crossing the hallway and as soon as she laid eyes on you, she let the teacup fall to the floor.

Pietro caught the item with a grimace, keeping the drink from spilling out, and Natasha released you just in time for Wanda to throw herself onto you.

"Hey, hey, I'm fine." You assured with a shy chuckle, feeling Wanda squeeze tighter. "I'm glad you found the t-shirt."

But she didn't laugh at your joke, sniffling against your chest and making you swallow dryly. 

"I thought I lost you." She confesses with her face hidden against you. "I couldn't...I couldn't feel you anymore. Nowhere. Don't ever do that again. You scared me."

You stroke her back, swallowing dryly before saying, "Forgive me, I didn't mean to. I'm here now. I'm safe."

Wanda only releases you because you grunt softly from the pain of the bruise. "W-what happened?"

"We have a lot to discuss, Maximoff, you have no idea." It is Natasha who answers, and you force a tender smile at Wanda.

–//–

In the end, Natasha did most of the talking. She took care of the story, and because you were injured, you insisted on taking care of the mission reports for Stephen.

She politely ignored your request and delivered them while you were busy at dinner with Wanda.

Unfortunately, you missed the show. Your interdimensional trip lasted almost two days on this world. The avengers were racing against time to find you, and Stephen had spent many hours enduring light threats from an angry Wanda demanding that he find out where you were. Pietro, besides being a mandatory presence on the rescue team, thought it best to stay around so that Wanda didn't end up destroying the Sanctum.

Your injury was healing fast, and although you had told the team members a few hundred times about the universe you visited, you were doing a great job of hiding the fact that you were married in your other life to your best friend.

When Kate Bishop showed up in your room with tickets to the next Imagine Dragons concert, they came with an ultimatum.

"You have to tell her." She said, completely confusing you.

"What are you talking about, Hawkeye?" You questioned, but Kate crossed her arms.

You widened your eyes. "Who told you?"

Kate laughed. "Really, Y/N? Nat tells Clint and Yelena everything. And Clint is my mentor, and Lena is my girlfriend. And well, I tell everyone everything, so I guess the only person who doesn't know is Wanda, but if Pietro already knows..."

"God I need to sit down." You state with a nervous nausea in your stomach, sitting down on your bed as Kate sighs impatiently, and closes the door with her foot as she follows you inside.

"Man, what's the big deal, you know? You married her in another world, and you're obviously super into her in this one too."

"Kate!" You interrupt her with a red face. "It's not like that, okay!"

Kate rolls her eyes, with an incredulous laugh. "As if." She mutters, but you grunt.

"Look, I can't, okay? Wanda is...perfect. She's everything. Everything I have." You state looking at the floor, and Kate frowns in surprise. You swallow dryly. "I can't ruin us. She's the most important person I have, and I don't know what I would do if I ruined this..."

Kate sighs, coming closer and kneeling in front of you, one hand on your knee. "Y/N, it's normal to be afraid. I felt the same way with Yelena. But look on the bright side, you can already see that you guys work in another life, you can have a chance to be happy in this one too."

You smile sadly. "That world was different, Kate." You mutter. "There, a lot of things that went wrong here, worked in that life. What if in this world, Wanda and I are supposed to go wrong? That variant was incredible. Fearless and so cool. I am not that way. I panic about basically everything, and I have no idea what I'm going to do with my life. Those two knew who they were and that they wanted a family together. And I have no idea how to do that."

Kate swallows dryly, forcing a smile. "But you don't need to know that now, Y/N." She says gently. "We are so young. Maybe your variants were as lost as you are now, but they had the courage to stand by each other until they were ready. The question is whether you will too."

You swallow dryly, silently absorbing her words. Kate offers you a soft smile and moves her hands away to take two items from her blouse pocket.

"I heard you missed the last one, and I hate the band, but I kept getting tickets because of the last name, so I figured you'd make better use of this than me..." She says as she places the tickets in her lap. "A confession is a good way to end a concert."

You laugh with flushed cheeks, picking up the tickets so they don't fall off as you hug Kate.

"I would never have the courage for something so public, but thank you little Hawkeye." You murmur and she laughs softly, hugging you back.

Neither of you notices the teary-eyed girl behind the bedroom door.

–//–

When your wound had completely healed, you went to Wanda's room.

It was Tuesday and it had been two weeks since the trip to the multiverse. The subject, in theory, was no longer anything new for any Avenger to be interested in asking about.

That's why you were surprised Wanda brought up the topic again.

"I'm just curious." She justified herself as soon as she saw your expression. "It's weird, to think there are other versions of us living around."

You chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of your neck as you settled into Wanda's bed. It was a common image - Since you joined the team, your intimacy was very strong. And her room was practically yours. So she was at this very moment trying to decide what outfit she was going to wear to the Imagine Dragons concert, and both pieces in her hands were yours.

"You're right, witchy, but I already told the whole story." You lay with your head resting on your arm, as Wanda put the shirt over her body in front of the mirror. She hums, clearly not believing you and you frown. 

Wanda never acts like that with you. But to be fair, you didn't usually lie to her either. 

"What does ‘hum’ supposed to mean?" You question, but Wanda sighs wearily, scarlet magic keeping the garments in the air as she pulls her shirt up.

Your face burns and you look up at the ceiling immediately. Wanda notices you through the mirror, and has trouble hiding her little smile.

"It doesn't mean anything, just that I was listening." She mutters in clarification, and it's your turn to mutter back, not trusting your words when the image of Wanda in a bra is still so fresh in your mind. "Hey, Y/N?" She calls out after a moment, and you hum to say you're listening. "How come, if we're such good friends, we never change in front of each other?"

Your brain short-circuits. You open your mouth and close it dozens of times, but can't think of anything. 

"Is it a cultural thing? I thought Americans were more casual about such things..." Wanda continues, and you are sure it is meant to torment you.

"I don't know, Wands. Jesus." You mumble in embarrassment, stumbling out of bed and thanking the heavens that Wanda is already in her t-shirt. "It just never happened. You, um, want to change in front of me?"

She gives a naughty little laugh, raising an eyebrow.

"Humm, Malysha, take me to dinner first." She mocks, turning back to look in the mirror, and you snort indignantly. 

You walk dragging your foot out of the room, muttering that Wanda is playing games with you and misses the way she is blushing too.

Wanda won't find you again until dinner, and you are grateful for the hot food with which you can justify the redness of your face at having her approach you and kiss your cheek.

"What are we having today?" she asks, too close, a hand on your arm as she leans over to look at the pans on the stove. 

It has to be on purpose. Wanda has always been affectionate, but this here has to be a test to see if you'd have a heart attack before dinner or something.

"S-since it's Lena's birthday and we're going to be at the show, and she doesn't want a party, I thought I'd do something traditionally Ukrainian..." You start to explain trying not to sound so affected by the closeness and begging to the heavens that Wanda doesn't notice how much you are trembling. "There are some Nalesniki, which are cheese crepes, in the oven and the cured pork, Salo, is going to be the main course-"

"Is that Banush? Oh, dorogaya, kak zabotlivo s tvoyey storony (darling, how thoughtful of you)" Wanda cuts in excitedly as she looks at the food, and you smile immediately at her happiness. 

"Yeah, I've been trying to get the point of this one right." You count as Wanda stretches out her hand to taste the food. "And Nat and Steve went to the market to get the missing peanut butter for the Kiev Cake."

Wanda smiles, having gotten her entire finger dirty from the meringue that was going on the cake. She brings it to her lips, sucking it clean while staring at you before releasing it with a soft pop.

"Delicious." She praises but you're not even listening properly, the blood pulsing in your face at the sinful image. You feel an intense attraction, and lean in at the same time as Wanda and her dark eyes, but just as your noses brush against each other, loud avengers enter the kitchen.

You immediately pull away, Wanda biting her lips and you clearing your throat.

"Here's what you ordered, баламут." Natasha announces as she places the market bags on the counter. But as soon as she notices the tension between you and Wanda, she raises an eyebrow. "Are we interrupting? I can retrace my steps..."

"Shut up, Nat." You interrupt in an embarrassed grunt, wasting no time in grabbing the missing ingredient from the bag while Natasha giggles a few times.

Wanda follows the cue of Kate and Yelena walking in chatting loudly and leaves the kitchen behind them, barely listening to Steve's apology - busy with bags - who bumps into her as he closes the door.

Even if Yelena doesn't want a party, this feels like one. And you even baked a cake.

As soon as the food is served, the Avengers spread out around in various conversation wheels. Pietro kept changing the music every five minutes, but Wanda was too busy stealing glances at you talking to Clint across the room to bother.

"So Maximoff, how's it going?" It was Yelena, with a plate of cake in hand. Wanda sighed loudly.

"Not well."

Yelena grimaced. "What? Are you sure you are doing as I said?"

Wanda sighed again. "Yes, Lena, I'm sure. But maybe that's my mistake, you know?" Retorted the upset brunette, returning the soda glass to the table and crossing her arms. "Your tips worked for you and Kate. I'm not like you, and Y/N is not Kate. I did what you told me to, I even tried the t-shirt trick but she just ran out of the room!"

Yelena made a thoughtful face, chewing the cake. "Are you sure you did it right? When I did the T-shirt trick, Kate melted down and ended up confessing that she liked my tits."

"First, gross. Second, too much information. Third, I'm exhausted." Wanda confesses with a grunt, pushing her hair back. "I don't know what to do anymore. Ever since I heard her confession, I've just been waiting for her to make a move, but she just... I guess I should just accept that she's decided I'm not worth it."

Yelena shakes her head indignantly, pushing her plate on the table and placing her hands on Wanda's shoulders.

"First of all, I don't allow that kind of blue humor on my birthday." Yelena informs with a mixture of serious and playful tone, offering the brunette a tender smile. "Second, you are so close, Maximoff. You can't give up now. You have to play dirty."

"Play dirty?" Wanda asked in confusion, to which Yelena merely nodded, leaning in to whisper something in the brunette's ear that made her eyes widen. "Belova!"

The blonde laughed softly as she turned away. "It'll work, I guarantee it. It worked for Kate."

Wanda grimaced. "Too much information!" She complained walking away, but Yelena laughed, shaking her head and deciding to go look for her girlfriend.

Wanda had two seconds of peace as she poured herself some non-alcoholic punch before Natasha appeared in the kitchen.

"Lovely party, eh Maximilf?" She began, and Wanda gave a confused giggle at the nickname. "Oh, I forgot. Not a Milf yet."

"What...?"

"Hey, can I talk to you?" You came in suddenly, cutting off Natasha's question. Wanda didn't understand why you looked so uneasy - You had been talking to the redhead two minutes ago. She knew because she watched you all night.

"I'm busy, Y/N, talking to your wif-"

"Natasha." You cut her off almost pleadingly and the redhead sighs impatiently, and unlike Wanda, ignores your question and bends down on the counter only to grab a bottle of whiskey.

"You know what we should play? Have I ever never." Declares the redhead and turns to the kitchen with a huge smile. "Avengers! Everyone is going to play!"

You are visibly annoyed by the whole thing, but when Wanda approaches and goes to ask if everything is okay while the rest of the team starts getting organized to play, you force a smile.

"Nat had a bit to drink, and I didn't want her to talk more than she should. Maybe it would be better if I didn't join-"

"баламут! Don't even try to run away from the game! You're going to be the first!" Shouted the redhead from the room and you sighed loudly. Wanda giggled, moving even closer and holding your hand.

"I could charm them into forgetting about the game. If it's making you uncomfortable." 

You blinked impressed. "Would you mess with their minds for me?" You ask in a low voice, and Wanda nods, looking at your mouth. "What a naughty witch."

Heat spreads quickly through her chest, and Wanda bites her lip to hold back the sound that wants to escape her throat. She is about to kiss you in front of everyone when the team whistles and the moment is broken immediately.

You approach the circle, and because everyone has already sat down, Wanda has only one vacant seat on the other side of the room. She doesn't complain because at least she can breathe properly without you next to her.

"Now that we are all seated, you start Y/N." Natasha declares with a mischievous smile on her lips, her hands busy pouring whiskey into the glass that Pietro uses speed to place in each person's hand.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. 

"Never have I ever gotten drunk playing these games." You mutter getting a few laughs. Natasha and Tony exchange impatient buffos at being the only ones drinking.

"Very funny, kindergarten. Now allow the adults to play. Romanoff, would you like to do the honors?" Tony asks, but Natasha shakes her head, settling further into the couch.

"I'll give mine some thought." She retorts mysteriously, and since Tony doesn't insist, no one else does. Only Wanda notices the way you swallow dryly and squeeze your glass hard.

"Never have I ever been turned down." Tony declares arrogantly but the whole team booes in disbelief. Natasha laughs out loud.

"As far as I can remember, Stark, I did that about four times in my first week of the industries alone..." Affirms Romanoff and this is the first time you see Tony effectively blush with embarrassment. He takes it in stride, rolling his eyes and taking a long swig from his glass.

You don't drink, and somehow, everyone notices.

"Really, L/N?" Kate asks genuinely curious. You laugh sheepishly.

"You can't be rejected if you've never confessed." You retort and the team laughs in understanding, but Wanda realizes your smile is forced.

"Okay, okay, now it's my turn." Pietro cuts in raising his glass in the air. "Never have I ever made out with someone of the same sex. And yes, everyone here but me is going to drink." He sneers, at the rest of the team who laugh and exchange curious glances.

Steve clears his throat and settles into his seat to ask for his turn.

"Never Have I Ever... Googled sex positions."

The room burst into laughter. Tony was so red from laughing that he almost fell over backward. It was the whiskey's fault, probably.

"Jesus, Steve, this isn't a confectionary! You must say things you didn't do." Pietro clarified and Steve became a complete tomato, muttering that he had got the game wrong. Thank god everyone was starting to get drunk enough not to care.

Sam, as soon as he stopped laughing, raised his glass. "How about we make things more awkward for the originals? Never have I ever slept with a co-worker."

The original Avengers let out embarrassing grunts, and all of them drink.

"Wow, now I need to know who with who." Yelena declared but Natasha laughed.

"That's not the game." Retorted the redhead and didn't flinch even when Lena used the birthday card.

But the light and fun mood were about to end, because as soon as Thor said "Never have I ever been unfaithful." and was taunted that it was hard to believe that the god of fertility was faithful, Natasha stood up.

"Never have I ever... been in love with my best friend." 

The question hung in the air lightly for a few minutes. Most of the team thought it was funny, Kate, Yelena, Steve, and Bucky drank. But you remained static in your seat, feeling Natasha's gaze burn into you.

"Honest answers only, people." Insisted the widow, and soon everyone noticed that she was looking at you.

Clint noticed the way Wanda squirmed in her seat, lowering her gaze to her own lap, so he cleared his throat.

"Come on, Nat, maybe you should change the question, that's a pretty personal one."

Nat forced a laugh. "I have a better one then; Never have I ever married my best friend in another world."

You cringed, closing your eyes but Wanda raised her head.

Your reaction was answer enough, but she questioned anyway.

"What are you talking about, Nat?" 

The widow put a hand to her chest with false innocence in her expression. "What? You haven't heard? What a strange thing! Y/N must have been busy telling Steve about Peggy to remember, I imagine."

Steve sighed loudly from the couch. "Natasha, I said it was okay..."

"For you!" She interrupted indignantly. "I told her not to tell! It was my secret!"

He sighs again, the room silent and shocked listening to them argue. "What difference does it make, Peggy is gone."

"Exactly." Natasha retorts with tears in her eyes. "I have this perfect wife who makes me happy and loves this complete mess that I am in that world, but here, I have nothing. Peggy is gone, she never even met me. And she was my best friend's ex-girlfriend, so excuse me if I wanted that to be my secret. But now it doesn't matter anymore, because everyone knows!" Natasha exclaimed with open arms, and when she went to get down from the table, she stumbled softly, and Wanda understood that the bottle of whiskey was not to be the first of the evening. "And you know what the funniest part is? It's that Y/N only did that because she's scared! She has something incredible, the chance to be with the one she loves the most, and she's afraid!"

You feel your eyes fill with tears, and you are standing like half the team, who stood up when Nat stumbled. The widow, who now looks on the verge of tears as well, moves closer to place her hands on your cheeks.

"I just want you to be happy, you stubborn, idiotic girl!" she says indignantly and drunkenly. "And I need your first daughter to be named Natalia, too."

The group giggled emotionally, and you nodded in agreement, putting a hand around Nat.

"Come, Romanoff, what you need is some water and a night's sleep."

As you lead Nat away, the game ends and the Avengers scatter back with a few murmurs about the scene but no one is too upset about anything, and Yelena says she will check on her sister.

Wanda approaches Steve and Clint once they are alone.

"You two are the closest to Nat, so I want to know what this whole otherworldly marriage thing is all about." Demands the witch and the two exchange sighs. 

"Natasha has spent the last few weeks stressing about it." Clint began. "Apparently, she met a version of Y/N who was married to you."

"What?" Wanda exclaimed in shock, a warm thread of hope sprouting in her chest.

"Yeah, happy family with kids and everything." Steve completed the story. "She made several jokes, heckled Y/N with that story for days trying to get her to confess the whole thing to you. But in the end... well, you saw. Y/N told me that Nat's variant was Peggy's wife, so that was the end of the matter, and well, they got so tense that no one else had the nerve to ask about it anyway."

Wanda twists her fingers nervously. "B-but, do you guys think she didn't want to talk about it because she hated the idea?"

Steve and Clint frown. "What? No, Wanda, that's not it." The captain says, with Barton nodding immediately.

"I think maybe she loved the idea, actually." Clint says with a laugh. "But you know, you're all what, twenty, twenty-two years old. You're young as hell. If at that age, a version of me showed up saying I'm going to get married and have kids, I'd freak out too. Even today I have my doubts about paternity. It couldn't have been easy for Y/N, you know? I'd be scared to mess it up too."

Steve nods in agreement. "Especially with someone who is already important." He says. "If you didn't know each other, she might get anxious about a date or something. But, you two are so close. And I can tell you from experience that the fear of messing up and losing someone important like that is pretty strong." Steve said, his gaze going to Bucky across the room to exemplify. 

Wanda swallows dryly. "B-but I like her." She confesses low, and it's no surprise to the Avengers next to her, who smiles. "I really like her."

"You should say that to her, not to us." Clint says gently, and Wanda sniffles low, but smiles, nodding.

She takes a heavy breath and decides that this thing has gone on too long already.

–//–

Natasha fell asleep just as you and Yelena threw the blanket over her, exchanging giggles at seeing her sleeping expression.

"Hey, Belova, the birthday girl has to stick around at the party." You try as you watch her sit down, but she holds up a finger in warning.

"I told you I didn't want a party." She accuses in a fake serious tone, making you laugh guiltily. "I'm tired, Y/N. I'll text Kate to come to sleep with me, and the rest of the team can keep having fun."

"As you wish, birthday girl." You mumble but when you go to walk away, she holds your forearm.

"Thank you." She says. "For taking care of my sister."

You smile. "Usually, it's always the other way around. It doesn't hurt to return the favor once in a while." You say, getting a smile from her. "Hey, Lena, that Peggy story, I really didn't mean-"

"Don't worry." She interrupts gently. "I'm not mad, it was just a disagreement between you and Nat. Friends fight sometimes. You can apologize to her when she wakes up. Now you should talk to another Avenger."

You swallow dryly, looking away. Yelena expects you to make up an excuse, but you sigh. "Yeah, you're right. Wish me luck?"

"Oh, I'm sure you'll be lucky tonight." She retorts to which you only laugh without understanding the malice in her tone of voice.

You leave the room and decide to go look for Wanda at the party, but when you return to the living room she is no longer there. Sighing in defeat, you make your way back to the elevator and toward your bedroom.

You are quite surprised to find Wanda inside.

"Hey, Wands, I didn't know you were up here." You greet as you take off your jacket, and the brunette meets your gaze just for a moment, her attention on the mask on your shelf. 

"This is new. Did Yelena make it for you?" she asks about the item, running her fingers over the details. You swallow dryly, throwing the jacket on the floor and sitting down on the bed to remove your shoes.

"No, it's not from around here." You reply, clearing your throat softly. "You gave it to me."

She frowns in confusion, turning her face to you only to understand immediately when she meets your gaze. "Oh. The other me."

"Yeah." You gasp softly. "The Wife one."

Wanda looks away to the side, leaning gently on the shelf because she thinks her knees are weak.

"So that's actually true." She mumbles trying to sound casual, and you think your tie is too tight. To blame Kate and her small suits, you are sure.

"Yes, I was surprised, but it's not like it's completely out of the question, right?" you retort so naturally that Wanda's eyes widen slightly. Panic settles in your chest. "I-I meant that friends get married all the time! A-and of all the people on the team, if I were to marry someone it would make sense that it would be you, I mean, not that I'm thinking of marrying you, but if given the choice and based on our intimacy..." 

Wanda cuts off your anxious babbling with a giggle. "Detka, you're hanging yourself." She comments nodding to the tie that you took off in an all-crooked manner, and was in an even tighter knot around your neck.

She moved closer, her hands working leisurely on the item even though you both knew she could use magic to pull it off. 

"You really... don't think it's so impossible for us to be together?" Wanda questions the next moment, her voice husky and affected, and you raise your eyes to her immediately. 

She looks absurdly beautiful. And you sigh, biting your tongue to keep from letting that slip out instead of the answer.

She uses your silence to finish the knot, and when the tie falls loosely around her neck, she makes mention of pulling away, only for you to hold her by the waist.

"I don't think it's impossible at all." You answer finally, rising to stand at the same height as her face, and place a hand on her warm cheek. "I think we are made for each other. In any world, especially this one."

A short, shy, contented laugh escapes Wanda's lips and is mirrored on yours. She steps forward, breaks the distance between your faces and the world stops.

It's not your first kiss, but if it were your last you would die happy.

Her lips are soft and taste of cherry gloss. It's sweet and so warm, and it's over too quickly.

Wanda pulls back with sparkling eyes but slight insecurity. "Was that... nice?" she asks in a husky voice, and you almost choke because how can she have any doubt?

Instead of answering with words, you kiss her again. And again. And again. Until Wanda entwines her hands behind your head and slides her tongue into yours. You gasp because this is even better.

She explores your mouth until you need to break for breath, and when you do, your lips trace a trail down her jaw to her neck, and Wanda shudders, an aroused groan escaping.

You suddenly lose your balance when she pushes you sitting up on the bed, but you don't complain because she is straddling your lap next, kissing you with passion.

It's a war of hands and pulling, but it feels so good. Wanda kisses you with the same longing that you do as if she can hardly believe that you have wasted so much time without doing it.

It's late when you stop. Far beyond the end of Yelena's party.

You have half the buttons open, and her dress is dangerously lifted at the edges of her thigh. You are lying on your back on the mattress, Wanda beside you, hugging your body.

"I don't want to close my eyes." She confesses in a whisper with her head on your pillow, and you straighten up to be even closer. "I want to look at you."

You smile, your cheeks flushed. "I'll be here when you wake up. And you'll be able to look at me all you want."

She smiles but straightens up so that her face hovers over yours. "Just look?" She asks in a tone that makes you chuckle softly.

"I hope not. Please do more." You joke in the same tone and she chuckles lightly before kissing you again.

It doesn't take long for you both to fall asleep after that. Both of you with easy smiles on your faces.

–//–

One Month Later

Your relationship with Wanda was only getting better every day, unlike the war in the multiverse.

The variant was right - Wanda needed you. Luckily, you also needed her.

Even though the Avengers' missions were increasing, you and her were falling into an incredible rhythm in your relationship, getting closer to each other every day.

And speaking of proximity.

"We're missing the whole concert." You recalled in a breathless voice, Wanda's lips marking your neck making the task of conversation nearly impossible.

You were in the back of your truck. The original plan was to watch Imagine Dragons, finally, and Wanda was even wearing your T-shirt. But well, she wanted a kiss, and somehow you ended up in the full auditorium parking lot in a heavy make-out session.

The sound of the music muffled out the sighs, and hopefully, the night made it impossible for anyone curious to try to look inside the car.

Wanda was on your lap, grinding against your thigh, and you were gripping the seat for support, trying to resist the urge to rip her clothes off.

Wanda seemed to want quite the opposite.

"Detka..." The brunette practically whimpered, teeth dragging under your skin. "Touch me."

You groaned aroused, tightening your hand around her waist and earning a sigh in return. "By god, Wanda, we're in a parking lot."

She complains with a bite on your skin that makes you gasp. "Why won't you touch me?" She insists almost annoyed, and you sigh before bringing your hands to her face.

"I thought you wanted our first time to be special." You explain with a warm face, surprising her a little, "We won't even be able to make any real noise here. And it's going to have to be quick."

Wanda bites her lip, her hands going down to the buttons of your blouse. "It's going to be special anywhere, detka, because it's with you." She retorts before stealing another firm kiss. "Now someone is confident about the quick and loud." She teases getting a small laugh before you return to kissing her with more passion now, determined to win the implied challenge.

Wanda tried to match the intensity of the kiss, but her hands wandered and you adjusted just enough for her to feel something else.

She broke the kiss with a soft choke, her center pressed against the firmness between your legs. Her darkened irises flashed in surprise at you.

"What's this, dorogoya? Were you planning this?" She asked with a mixed tone of teasing and mockery. "But what about all that stuff about our first time to be special..."

You grunted impatiently, thrusting your hips upward as you firmed your hands around Wanda's waist, and the precise friction of the strap against her made her whimper and grip your shoulders tightly.

"This was meant to be for after the show, smart-ass." You explain half breathlessly, watching her gasp as you guide her movements in your lap. "I did something nice in your room, with roses and everything. But someone couldn't keep their pants on..."

Wanda gave a guilty little laugh that turned into a groan when you pressed her right. 

"I need you inside, detka, please." She whimpered but you shook your head, stopping your movements to push her skirt up with one hand.

"I need to stretch you out first, pretty girl." You explained, sliding your hands inside her skirt and choking on your own breath as you found no panties. "Wanda, by all that's most sacred..." You grunted affectedly, leaning your forehead against hers and she gave a breathless giggle.

"Yelena's idea, you can thank her later." She clarifies, throwing her hips forward to encourage you to move your hand. You follow the cue immediately, and when your fingers sink inside her, she arches her back and throws her head back. "o chert, detka! (oh fuck, babe!)" She exclaims affectedly, making you smile proudly.

"Feels good, doesn't it, babe?" You ask meekly, curling your fingers inside her tight intimacy and stimulating her at slow speed until Wanda is panting and whimpering. "You look so sexy riding my fingers, pretty girl."

Wanda moaned deeply as she came and you muffled the sound with an intense kiss, feeling a strong wave of arousal at the sensation of her pussy twitching and dripping onto your fingers.

"I'd say that was pretty quick, but let's try the loud now, what do you think?" You sneer at the dizzy with pleasure girl in front of you, who has a few seconds to recover from her climax before you unzip your pants and adjust the strap with her entrance, making her jerk a little for her sensitivity. You kiss her cheek, hands on her thighs. "Changed your mind?" You ask warmly, showing in your gaze that there would be no problem at all if Wanda wanted to stop, but she shakes her head quickly and kisses you hard. You feel her straddling you, and only know that she has done the work to adjust and sink into the toy when she gasps against your lips in a loud whimper.

"Fuck, it's too big."  She whimpers, and you hold her waist, keeping her still. Your lips kiss her face and neck, and one of your hands moves up to her breast, stimulating the tip and making Wanda roll over against the strap-on instinctively.

"You can take it, I know you can." You coax meekly, the hand on her waist moving down to her intimacy, your fingers beginning to draw circles on her swollen clit that make Wanda drop her forehead against your shoulder, an affected moan leaving her lips. "Can I start moving, sweetheart?"

Wanda nodded breathlessly, practically bouncing on her own and making you smile. You held her by the waist, looking down to see the strap-on soaked when you pulled it out and then watching the toy unstrap inside her as you lowered her back down, the image tearing a moan from you. 

You kissed Wanda again, but as soon as she found her rhythm on top of the fake cock, it became impossible for her to reciprocate. She bounced on your lap, the sounds of your hard thrusts echoing mixed with her whimpers of pleasure until she began to spasm and you had to take over.

"Bozhe moy, detka, ya tak blizko! Ne ostanavlivaytesʹ, pozhaluysta, ne ostanavlivaytesʹ! (Oh my god, baby I'm so close! Don't stop, please don't stop!)" Wanda came with a loud cry of pleasure, making a complete mess in your lap and destroying half the seat with her magic.

You kissed her hard, exchanging breathless giggles as you caressed her hips.

"This definitely beats watching Imagine Dragons." You joke and she laughs with flushed cheeks, kissing you again. 

You notice that the noise of the music has diminished, indicating the first break, and you sigh together. Wanda speaks before you.

"Take me home, dorogoya. " She asks against your lips, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "I don't want to stop."

You choke softly, and nod dumbly, which makes Wanda smile. 

You have no idea how you managed to drive home after that, but part of you thinks Wanda must have used magic.

[asongofmarvelanddc]

Perfect Fit

PAIRING: Doctor Strange X Reader

WORD COUNT: 1438

WARNINGS: Just fluffity fluff fluff fluff

SUMMARY: Stephen wants to spend the morning in bed.

A/N: Not really proof-read because I cringe when I write fluff, but I'll do it tomorrow.

It’s been a while since Stephen’s been home in the morning. Most of the time he’s busy with whatever it is he actually does in the Sanctum these days now that Wong's the Sorcerer Supreme. You didn’t hear him climb into bed last night, so waking up to his arms around you, fingers intertwined with your own, is a more than welcome surprise.

Still groggy from sleep, you press a kiss on his hand before turning to face him. Your movements cause him to stir and he slowly blinks his eyes open.

“Morning,” you whisper, a soft smile on your face.

He groans and nuzzles his face into your neck, mumbling, “Morning breath.”

Of course.

You chuckle and begin to roll out of the bed, “Well, yours doesn’t exactly smell like a bed of roses, hun.”

He smiles and grabs onto your arm to stop you from getting out of bed.

“Stay? Please?” he asks, his voice still husky from sleep, “You know I’m only joking.”

You easily slide out of his hold and head for the bathroom, “Stephen, if I couldn’t tell when you’re joking, do you think we would’ve made it three years?”

"Eight if you count snap years."

You turn to him with a cocked brow, "What makes you think I didn't date other people?"

Stephen sits up, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Would you like me to play all those embarrassing voicemail messages you left on my phone during those five years?" he says as he reaches for his phone on the nightstand.

Your face drops and your cheeks begin to heat up. "You said you'd delete those."

"Those messages are basically you telling me how much you love me in like a thousand different ways," he puts the phone back down, "I'm never losing them."

You struggle to fight the smile forming on your lips. Even though he teases you about it, you can still remember how moved he was when he first heard those messages. He stayed up most of the night listening to them and as much as he could help it, he didn't leave your side for weeks after, wanting to be as close to you as possible.

“Please, come back to bed. Just for a few minutes."

“Hang on, I'm just brushing my teeth,” you continue heading for the bathroom , "You could do with some minty freshness too if I'm honest."

When you turn the handle of the bathroom door and open it, you’re immediately hit with a blast of ice-cold wind that nips at your skin and sends goosebumps up your arms. You can see the edge of a cliff in the distance with a steep drop off, and the sky is misty-grey. On the ground, the grass is dewy and wet from the cold.

With a heavy sigh, you close the door and turn to face Stephen, one hand on your hip and the other on the door handle. He’s sitting up now, his hands clasped over the duvet as he watches you.

“Stephen?”

“Yes?”

“Fix the damn door.”

He looks at you like he has no clue what you’re talking about, but you can see that mischievous glint in his eyes.

“There’s nothing wrong with the door,” he says in the most innocent voice he can muster up. Then in the next second he flashes you a grin and winks.

You want to stay annoyed at him, but he’s too charming to resist.

“Fine, I’ll come back,” you say as you walk back to the bed and climb in, “But only for a few minutes because your morning breath might actually kill me.”

He chuckles and pulls you in close as you settle in next to him. You immediately rest your head against his chest, one hand taking his, and the other sliding around his waist. You’re never more comfortable than when you’re cuddled up to him, listening to his heartbeat while you lay in comfortable silence.

You close your eyes for only a second when you feel something land on your lap over the duvet. It's a small bottle that rattles when you pick it up.

"Mints," you chuckle as you open it and pop one in Stephen's mouth and another in yours, "You know these'll only last so long, right?"

"Like I said; I only need a few minutes."

He has a suspicious grin on his face, but despite your confusion, you don't ask him about it. There's clearly something up his sleeve.

"I got you something yesterday."

"Did you?" you ask almost absent-mindedly as you trace the scars on his fingers with your own.

He loves it when you do that. His hands are more sensitive than the average person, so your soft touches against his skin are not only soothing – they send shivers down his spine.

"Mhm," he nods as he begins gesturing with his sling ring.

A small portal opens and something falls out, right into Stephen's outstretched hand. He opens his grip and you freeze when you see what he's holding.

Nestling in his palm is a dark-blue, velvet box.

You glance up at Stephen in shock then back to the box.

"Stephen?"

"Yes...?"

"What is that?"

He hesitates before offering an answer, "Earrings?"

You can feel the smile on your lips growing even though your heart is in your throat.

Then he opens the box to reveal a diamond ring.

You suck in a sharp breath. "I don't think it's safe to wear a rock that big on your ears," you joke, trying to keep your cool.

He chuckles softly and moves the box closer to the two of you. His hand are shaking, and he's keeping his eyes on the ring, unable to look at you. He's always that way when he's particularly nervous. You rest your head against his shoulder, hoping the contact will calm some of his nerves – and your own.

"I was walking around last night, trying to find the right words to go with this ring," he says, "All I could come up with is that generic shit you hear in wedding vows and Hallmark movies."

"They're pretty romantic though."

"Yeah, I guess," he sighs as he rests his head against yours, "But we're always honest with each other, so I can't lie and say that you're perfect."

You narrow your eyes and frown, "Weird way to convince someone to marry you."

"But I'm not lying when I say that you're perfect for me."

You turn to face him, your heart bursting with happiness, and press a kiss on his jaw. He looks at you and smiles, pressing his lips to your forehead.

"I'm a big believer in fate these days," he says, finally looking into your eyes, "And you're the only person I've ever met who...fits, you know? And I don't mean physically, I mean like–"

"Mystic shit."

He chuckles again and nods. "Mystic shit."

He gazes at you for a few seconds, his eyes filled with nothing but warmth and adoration, and you swear you've never felt more loved than in that one moment.

"Saying 'I love you' doesn't convey enough anymore. Not with you," he says, "You've said it in a thousand ways and I wanna say it in a thousand more so..." He brings the ring right between the two of you and holds it up, "Will you? Marry me?"

You're surprised by the sincerity in his tone. It's a genuine question he's asking, as if he truly doesn't know what your answer will be. His beautiful blue eyes are searching yours for any hints, and you can see that he's waiting with baited breath. That is when you know without a doubt that he's all you'll ever want.

You crack a smile as you raise a hand to cup his cheek, running your fingers through his curls and back down to his jaw.

"Seeing as you believe we're mystically fated to be together, I'm kinda stuck with you now, aren't I?"

He laughs in that pure, non-sarcastic way that he does when he's full of joy. It melts your heart and leaves you mesmerised by the sight of him. And it's so infectious that you can't help but join him.

He removes the ring from the box, and with shaky hands, slips it on your finger. You almost can't believe it's real as you lean your head against Stephen's shoulder and admire it with him.

"This could blind a man," you whisper, dazzled by the way it sparkles in the sunlight.

Stephen chuckles and kisses the top of your head.

"Only the best for you."

[strrvnge]

Dream A little Dream Of Me

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader

Summery: you're sick but thankfully you have your very own personal doctor

Warnings : sickness, fluff, just pure fluff

I'm sick, again. It's the second time this MONTH (I don't know how I find the time) so I'm kinda pissed because I have to study too, other than that I'd say it's some really good timing I have

‘’For the last time and in the name of god go back to bed’’ for one more time Stephen rose from his armchair abandoning for the third time that day his book and rushed to the kitchen where you were.

"Jesus Stephen, why aren't you reading that damned book!" You whined, stomping your foot on the floor like a misbehaving child and according to Stephen today you actually were.

"You know this lack of concentration is not good if you want to be the Sorcerer supreme. I mean to who do we trust our reality? A guy who can't read one page in an hour?"

"I would have if I wasn't patroling around the house like the police because you can't just go to sleep"

Without speaking he glared at you before grabbing the bag of crisp you tried to hide behind your back.

"Oh come on don't give me that look. I was hungry. I wanted a snack" you pouted puffing out your rosy cheeks and if you hadn't been so annoying and sick he would have certainly kissed you.

Instead he rolled his eyes and huffed tired with your mischievousness you somehow had even when you were burning with fever.

"I'm not going to repeat myself Y/N get back to bed" he put on a stern expression knowing you waiting for a chance not go to your bed and stay downstairs with him.

"Fine, fine but don't say like it's such a chore to you" before you could even finish your sentence you coughed loudly, your sore throat burning in the process.

"Did you say something?" Taking you by your hand he dragged you upstairs and dramatically you followed him, a sulky expression written all over your bruning face.

"For someone who's sick you certainly make sure to keep up with your exercise, taking strolls around the house. I'm not even going to mention how much you talk. Tell where do you find the energy?"

"I've been in bed since yesterday morning, I'm bored and you're not very entertaining" you said in a low tone not wanting to tire your voice.

You walked into your shared bedroom and knowing very well the way you headed to the unmade bed with the blankets and pillows laying down on the carpet.

"It's so so unfair! It's almost Christmas, outside, it's snowing , people are having fun and I'm here sick, laying in bed all day while having you nagging at me! Just so unfair!" You whined, crawling up on the bed before jumping on it a big sly smile lightening up your voice, as the bed left a loud crack with your fall.

Shaking his head disapprovingly Stephen chose to stay silent, pulling up the blankets from the floor.

"Please tell me. Aren't you tired?" He asked in pure curiosity.

"Well I might be a teeny tiny bit sick, but I won't let it take over.’’ you explained as he tucked you in carefully. "So there is no reason to get in the whole doctor mode. I'm fine" you sat up as he propped up your pillows and he raised an eyebrow at you "I swear" you said with an innocent smile.

"Your cheeks are red, where is your syrup?"

"Where is it Y/N?" With his hands both standing on his waist he looked at you with a raised eyebrow waiting for an answer. You widened your eyes with the unjust accusation.

"That disgusting thing? Pff no idea" you shrugged as he looked around the room

"I honestly don't know. I don't even want to be near it. Why would I know where you left it? But it's alright. I'm feeling totally better. Totally"

"Oh here it is. Fuck it's nearly empty" he sighted before putting it on the nightstand. "Let me see how better you are'' he mumbled to himself sitting near you on the bed before bringing his hand on your forehead to feel your temperature.

"You're burning." he stated with a spectacle expression that under different circumstances would have you laughing with how serious he could be.

"So sad that there is no syrop left to make me well"

"Don't worry there's just enough for now. But I have to run to the pharmasy later to buy you a new one" he smirked opening up the bottle "Open up"

"Yeaks. Do I really have to?" You grimaced, looking at the other way to avoid the threatening spoon. " Do you even know how to take care of a sick person? Because I'm not really sure " You whined

"Wells it had been only 14 years of intensive studying, a major and a PhD so I'd say yes I know how to treat a simple fever"

"Ha. Dear Stevie, here is what you get wrong. It's not just a fever. Every patience differs from the other even if they have the same illness and if you can't comprehend that individuality perhaps we should call someone more equipped for my situation"

"First of all please stop making up things and second of all we are not going to call anyone. I can guarantee to you no one in this state or in any other would tolerate you. Now open up" he said strictly and you stubbornly continued looking the other way.

"Can you behave for me please?" He said "I know it might not be perfect but it can't taste that bad"

"That's because you haven't taken it!" You exclaimed crossing your hands over your chest "but I felt terrible so I let it slide. Just this one though" you said pointing your index finger at him.

Opening your mouth you stuck out your tongue and swallowed the disgusting liquid, trying not to vomit.

"That's my good girl" he said, biting down the inside of his lip so he wouldn't burst into laughter.

"Am I gonna die?", you coughed with the terrible taste "because if I am you might as well tell me. I have so many things to do"

"Yeah like what. Nag me all day long? Because for a soon to die person you're pretty ahead of schedule" he said and closed the bottle of medicine.

"So I am going to die?"

"No darling you're not" he laughed with the desperation on your expression.

"Then are you going to stay here and keep me company?" With dove loving eyes and honeyed voice you looked at him, putting up all of your charm to make him stay.

"Well I don't want to get your sick gems"

"Come on!" You whined "If you don't I swear I will not stay a minute in bed and won't let you rest for a minute"

"Well I'm not the one who is sick here. You'll eventually get tired and stop. So why would I care?"

"What you say is very very awful because I'm sick. But since you don't care I will go outside where it is freezing, cold and snowy so I’ll sneeze and get a runny nose and I'll get even more sick. Then I will hunt you around the house to give you kisses and hugs so you'll get sick too" you finished crossing your hands over your chest with a proud look.

"God you're such a child and if you hadn't been that sneaky and sick I might even kiss you" he laughed, raising up to go to the closet.

"Thank you" you said with a hoarse voice that made your throat hurt.

"And what I'm gonna get out of this?"

"So here's the plan. You're going to put up your evil plan for another time and rest here while I run to the pharmacy and then perhaps I might bring you something for your throat. Then I'm gonna make you soup- and before you say it" he quickly said raising his index finger on your lips to stop you from talking

"Yes I know how to make soup so you don't have to worry about me burning down the kitchen" he finished and went to put on his coat "Not like I did last Sunday" he mumbled to himself.

"You're gonna get well, I'm gonna cook for you and we'll watch your favorite movie Barbie a christmas carol"

"I thought that was your favorite movie" you sneered and content you laid down. "Kissie before you go?"

"Why? So I can get sick too?" He asked fixing his collar.

"If you get sick you'll be with me then. Wouldn't that be great?"

"Fine" he kneeled over your tired body pressing tenderly a kiss on the crown of your head and then on your forehead. "Happy?"

"Very much kind sir" you smiled with your eyes closed from when he kissed you.

"Good because that's all you'll get for a while" he said

"Wait! I've really tried but I've been having trouble sleeping. Could you perhaps lay with me till I fall asleep like I so much want to?" You innocently batting your lashes. "Pretty, pretty please with a cherry on top?"

He groaned softly, acting annoyed as you immediately rested your head on his chest nuzzling your body to his. A happy hum escaped your lips as he started running his hands along your hair, twirling them around his fingers and pushing them off your face.

"Alright alright but just for a while and that's because I know you won't shut up"

Too tired to put up a fight with you he walked to the other side of the bed and pushed the blankets aside before slipping under them beside you. Quickly you wrapped hands and legs around him, trapping him close to you so he had no escape.

He could feel your body instantly relaxing on top of his. His fingers ran easily along your hair and your sweet scent he so much had missed after a day of not sleeping with you, filled the room. Relaxing now himself he rested his cheek on your burning cheek and even though he knew you wouldn't stay too long in that position eventually getting too hot or cold his mind really tried to hold onto those moments of blissful peace .

He knew that you did. If you had the power you would stay like this for an interanty.

"Stevie", you whispered sweetly, your voice cracking however.

"Yes dear?"

"Could you hold my hand while I'm sleeping like my doctor advised me? Please?" You said and he smiled to himself happily.

"Of course dear" his hand found yours that rested on his chest, your fingers locking as you let out a sheepish yawn. "happy? Now sleep"

"I know you love me deep down," you said and smiled proudly. Stephen raised up your hands bringing them close to his mouth and kissed your knuckles.

Bonus: after cuddling and watching every barbie movie stephen gets sick too so they have to spend two days in bed together, playing boarding games, cuddling, making bets while taking each others temperature about who will have the highest and watching every single christmas movie that exist, while Wong cooks for them soups (spoiler he is very responsible and kinda scared of getting sick too so he is very strict about the staying in bed rule)

"I'm allowed to have flaws, aren't I?"

[1rsoldiersince2012]

Rough Path to Memory Square (Doctor Strange x Reader [Earth-838])

Words: 5749 (chapters 10-12)

Summary:

You - Earth-838 Sorcerer Supreme's apprentice, now living under Mordo's wing, which you don't like.

Former Supreme Strange's lover and a gifted sorceress, drowning in her own despair, still not over Strange's death.

What happens when two intruders - America Chavez and Stephen Strange, visit your universe? Will you help them? Will you manage to convince the Illuminati that Stephen is not the real threat, but dream walking Wanda is?

Will your own feeling get in the way? Will you open your heart to Doctor Strange again?

Find my other accounts on ao3 and wattpad under the same name <3  

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1rSoldierSince2012

wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/1rsoldierSince2012

Chapter 10: Dark Angel

You wake up, head lying on something firm and especially warm. Soft snoring reaches your ears, and you subconsciously snuggle into the mysterious object more. A hand hugs your naked form from the back, pulling you even closer, and you feel goosebumps spread all over your skin. The weather wasn't cold, on the contrary, it was too warm for your liking. And the sheets you were covered in, up till your chest, did nothing to cool you down.

You open one eye, peeking around the place. Huge room, so much extra space, that a shop could be opened here. Old wooden furniture, shelves full of books, big mirror near the wardrobe and extra neat and tidy desk near the bed. Clothes scattered near the bed and some of them still on the covers. You notice your panties and blush. Oh, what a night.

Stephen stirs near you, and you finally get off him, creating some space for him to stretch. However, the same hand that was just holding you, pulls you back to his chest. He bends down his head a bit and places a soft kiss on your forehead.

"How long have you been awake?" he asks, voice groggy from all the sleep, but so, so sexy at the same time. You shoo the dirty thoughts away and look up at him. The man you could spend two eternities with.

"Like 2 minutes." you say, your voice hoarse too.

"Oh, thank God, didn't hear me snoring" he laughs.

"Actually, I did. It was terrible. Like listening to a tractor." you tease, hiding your face in his chest, so that he wouldn't see your cheeky grin.

"Oh, really? Well, you're no better than me, snoring like two tractors."

"Shut up" you laugh. Moments later, you sit up and get out of bed, putting on Stephen's bathrobe.

"Already running away?" he smirks, watching how his bathrobe hugs your form.

"Yeah, I have someone else waiting for me."

"Send my regards to that poor man." he says, sitting up in the bed.

"Who said that it's a man?" you pretend to be annoyed and huff, reaching the bathroom door.

"Okay, okay, don't make them wait" he puts up his hands in defeat.

Freshened up a bit, you return to the main room, still wrapped up in Stephen's bathrobe like a burrito.

"How was your secret date?" he asks, computer in his hands already. As always, he's reading the news.

"Eh, could've been better." you fake sigh, returning to the bed and kissing his cheek. "You, mister, need to shave. It's prickly already."

"Hey, I shaved yesterday" a hurt look on his face, he turns to look at you.

"Yeah, and you ALREADY need to shave again."

"Fine, fine, whatever you say, honey."

You lay back on his chest, looking up at the computer screen. "Any good news?"

"There's a party at Stark's. Tony and Pepper are celebrating their anniversary, I think." he answers, slowly soothing your hair.

"You're going?" you ask, already knowing the answer. Sorcerer Supreme always had to make an appearance in big events.

"We're going." he says calmly, but the simple sentence makes you sit up and look at him in shock.

"We?"

"Yes. What? You don't want to go?"

"We. As in us together? As coworkers?"

"We - as in pair. You're my right hand, y/n. It's important for you to come with me."

"Mordo is your right hand." you say, raising your eyebrows.

"Well, I'm not gonna slow dance with Mordo, am I?"

"So, you're asking me out? To go with you. To a party." he's patiently nodding after your every stop. "As coworkers?"

"No, y/n, as a pair." he rubs your chin lovingly. "I think it's about time to tell the world about an incredible woman who stole my heart."

You're too stunned to speak. Stephen Strange, asking you out? And wanting you to be his pair at Stark's party? A party full of important people? That's not how you imagined your Thursday to begin.

"Y/n?"

"I don't have a suitable dress, Stephen." you finally smile.

"That's not a problem, you look good in anything. But most importantly, you look good in my bathrobe." He winks, kissing you slowly.

The days until Saturday flew faster than you wanted and now, 3 pm, you were standing in front of the mirror in your room. Long black dress, with lace and some glitter 'till your waist, dark black material freely flowing to your heels. Your dress - v-neck, is sure to attract many eyes, but the ones of Stephen Strange you wanted to be attracted the most. Fixing your hair one last time, you leave your room and go in the direction of the Master's chamber. Two knocks after, Stephen opens the door, freezing in the spot for a moment but quickly letting you inside. He's almost dressed too - white shirt, jacket thrown on the bed, he was about to put on his tie before you came.

"Wow, you look stunning." he breathes out, not taking eyes off you.

"Why, thanks. You're not so bad yourself." you smile, taking his tie in your hands, ready to tie it, but then realizing that you've never in your life tied a tie. Hands now awkwardly placed on his chest, you look in a mirror beside you. Stephen - still half of a head taller than you, the white streak in his black, a bit gelled hair, makes him even more attractive. If that was even possible. Your heels, however, did nothing to make you taller. Fucking scam.

"You've never tied a tie before, right?" he asks after a moment of silence.

"You got me." you say and step back a bit, watching how he quickly and perfectly ties it with magic. "Show-off" you huff, turning on your heel and sitting on his reading armchair. That thing was really very comfortable. If you were to steal anything from the Sanctum, the armchair would be THE thing.

"So, we're gonna take a cab or do it our style?" he asks, putting on the jacket and putting Cloak of Levitation, transformed into a little blue handkerchief, in the pocket.

"Well, it's almost an hour drive 'till Stark's house, but the roads are busy at this time of the day, so, it would take about an hour and a half" you begin, lazily moving your crossed legs, sitting in definitely not a very feminine way, but who gives a crap??

"And with magic we can get there in a minute" Strange finishes, coming to stand behind you and gently touching your shoulders.

"The party starts at?"

"Four."

"A bit early, even for Stark."

"Well, Tony said something along the lines of 'I'm an old man now, Strange, parties are behind me already'". Stephen copies Tony quite deep voice. You melt into his touch, the hands he once hated, now were almost lulling you to sleep.

"Yeah" you laugh, "old man who still parties like he's 16."

"You've never been to his party before. Have you?" Interested in your statement a bit, Strange asks, in a sort of jealous manner.

"Of course not, but it's fair to say that the whole New York knows about his parties. Words spread fast."

He hums in thought, and then you feel his warm touch leave your bare shoulders, a cold feeling taking over its place.

"So, we're going our way?" he asks, putting on his sling ring.

"Oh, yeah." you say, standing up and fixing your dress. A portal is opened, and you see a huge house, no, no, not a house, a huge mansion before your eyes, big gates surrounding the place, a small sort of parking lot is already full of fancy shiny cars. Ugh, rich people. You roll your eyes and after Stephen come out of the portal. The portal closes with a satisfying sound and a soft breeze touches your arms. Involuntarily, you shudder. Stephen looks around and offers you an arm, which you gladly take. Together you walk through the entrance and inside you see about 50 people already hanging out and chatting. Soon, you notice the main people of the evening - Tony and Pepper, all fancy and fashionable, and expensive (in a good way), and so.... in love. Your heart swells for the couple - that's how you want to live your life - happy and never tired of your other half. You steal a glance at Strange, he's also looking at Starks, lost in thought. You only hope that he's thinking the same thing as you.

Tony notices Strange and his mysterious partner, and leaves behind the person who's been talking to him about some new facilities that should be built near the city with Pepper. In a blink, Stark is standing before the two of you, champagne glass in hand, weird sunglasses hanging out of the pocket of his jacket.

"Strange! What a surprise, never thought you'd make it to my little party. Oh, and who's this dark angel by your side?" Tony quickly spills words as peas on the ground, and you're late to blush at his compliment, before he continues, now talking to you, "You should leave him, there are hundreds of people with a better character than his. And honestly? If I wasn't married, I'd take you on a date right now." he sends you a magazine-cover-worth smile, turning back to wink at Pepper, who's still up there fighting for her life with that pesky bald guy.

"Before you steal my date, I'd like to introduce her", Strange coughs, stopping another flood of words from Tony. "This is y/n, she's my..."

He's silent. You slightly frown, but quickly give your hand to Stark and finish, "his coworker".

Stark eyes you both in a weird way, but then instead of shaking your hand, he places a soft kiss on your knuckle. "Pleasure, my lady. Nice name, although, I think dark angel suits you better." he nods to you and Strange, looking around and then saying "well, gotta run for now, I'll make sure to rock the dance floor with you later, angel."

Tony left you as fast as he got here, and now you and Strange were left standing in an awkward silence.

"Dark angel? Is this even a compliment?" Strange mutters, now fully turning to you. "Coworker?"

"Well, that's the truth, isn't it?" you answer, grabbing a glass of champagne for yourself and another for Strange from the passing by waiter.

"Half of it, yeah, but I came here with you as my date, not my work friend. You are beyond the lines of work in my life, y/." he says, drinking the champagne, almost half of the glass in one time.

"Well, I chickened out a bit, so?" you say, also taking a big gulp from the glass. The champagne tasted like cat's piss. "Ugh, that's so bad."

"What, the drink?" he smells the glass a bit, thinking for a moment, "it's one of the most expensive ones in America."

"Yeah? Then why it tastes like piss?" you put the glass on a random table and start looking for a bar corner. "Gonna go find where they hide margaritas or something, you want some?" you ask, knowing well that it's just a distraction from further conversation about your feelings.

Strange looks a bit confused at you but soon nods, already on his way to meet someone, "bring me a glass of martini if you find it, hun."

More and more people are coming to the party and the room feels crowded soon. Drinking your 5th margarita, you finally order two martinis and go on a quest to find a Strange in the sea of men dressed almost identically. Someone almost runs into you, and you're ready to send a curse towards them before a tall figure emerges out of thin air and takes a glass from your hand. "Thank you, darling." Strange says, looking you up and down - cheeks a bit rosy from the alcohol, but you're standing perfectly, despite almost never walking in high heels.

"Oh, found you" you smile, eyes brighter than ever. "Have a great talk?"

"Yeah, have a great drink?"

"Oh, yeah." you smile, drinking the martini and searching for that waiter boy with drinks again.

"Before you get completely or even partially drunk, care to satisfy this man with a dance?"

"I think the music is not very my type of dancing music" you whisper, stepping close to him. His strong cologne fills in your nostrils and the warmth he radiates suddenly messes your head more than all the alcohol you've consumed this evening.

"I'm sure we can make it work, dark angel" he smiles, stretching out his hand towards you. You take it, and he pulls you to himself immediately, as if afraid that you might get stolen.

"You know, that dark angel reaaaally sounds like a hooker's name. You know, I imagine right away some 40-year-old woman, smoking those long cigarettes, and drinking wine for breakfast and champagne for dinner. Then having one client and a beer in between them."

Stephen just looks at you, almost laughing out loud. The music is still quite energetic, but you're moving in a slow pace. " This is the most ridiculous thing I've heard today, and a guy told me about his weird dream where he's running away from a clown naked."

You laugh out loud, "Why did he tell you that in the first place?"

"Because, he thought that Doctor Strange can heal him from that nightmare." you raise your eyebrow, and he continues, "because I'm a magic doctor."

"Where's that guy? I wanna discuss that hooker's life with him, he seems really cool dude."

"Y/n," Strange sighs, swiftly making you spin and then pulling you closer to him, "remind me to never leave you alone with drinks"

"Uh, definitely not doing that." you put your head on his chest, and as if someone snapped their fingers, a slow rhythm fills the space.

"So, why did you chicken out when we were with Stark?" he asks, feeling your hands snake under his jacket, hugging his waist.

"God, you never forget your question, do you?" you murmur, face firmly pressed on his chest, you're now hoping that your makeup doesn't stain his white shirt.

"Nope. Was it that goatee? Did you feel enchanted by it? Of course, it was the goatee. Should I grow one too?" he asks, causing you to pull away and look up at him.

"If anyone has a spell on me in this room, it's you, silly. And no, before you ask a million questions again, it was not the beard. I can't imagine you with anything like that." he opened his mouth, ready to say something again, but you were not done yet. "I chickened out because I felt that we were not ready to put a label on whatever thing that we're doing."

Strange frowns, not understanding what's going on in that pretty head of yours. "The thing we're doing? Y/n, we've been together for almost 6 months now."

"Yeah, still hiding in each other rooms through portals and stealing kisses on every empty corner of Kamar-Taj grounds. I feel like I'm in high school again! And you think that no one noticed? The other day, Leta got me in a corner, saying that she overheard us in my room." you whisper-shout, not liking the looks people around you been giving since they heard your talk about smoking hooker.

"Well, I wanted to change it tonight." he says in somewhat accusing tone, "and I will."

"You will what"

"Ask you to be my girlfriend. Officially. No more hiding, no more secrets."

You're stunned. Was the martini really so strong? You must be dreaming. "You… What?"

"I know you heard me perfectly, I saw how your eyes got bigger. So, will you make me the happiest man in the whole New York?"

"Damn right I will" you say and pull Stephen by his tie into an almost suffocating kiss.

Meanwhile, Tony and Pepper watch the scene from a far, sharing all-knowing glances, thinking the same thing - Stephen finally found his match, his angel.

Chapter 11: Do(n't) Fear the Reaper

Still pulling you by the hair, limping horribly, Wanda manages to catch up with the runners - Strange, America and Christine. Strange turns around to back and looks horrified at the scene.

"Run!" you shout to him, but Wanda sends a blow to your stomach, shutting you up for a moment. The pain is unbearable, just like the day you lost your Strange.

"Y/n!" Strange calls back, stopping momentarily, but Christine quickly yanks him back. They begin running again, all you see through the thick curtain of tears is Strange's Cloak swinging on his back. Suddenly, Wanda stops - Christine closed the heavy doors, that are all-things-proof. But nothing is Scarlet-Witch-proof. She uses her full power, breaking the doors and pulling you after her again. You see the outlines of three people again, running, merging into one at times, and your head feels like it's made of stones.

Suddenly, Strange stops and tries to negotiate. "Wanda, let her go."

"You give me what I need, Strange!" she's furious, you can feel the pain in your abdomen intensify with her every word.

"Wanda, please."

"I warned you." Wanda spits out every word clearly, and you finally let out a scream of pain.

Looking at you apologetically, Strange mutters, "Other Wanda, if you're in there, hold your breath."

A huge wave of water comes down on you and Wanda, pushing you both on the ground. The impact is so strong that Wanda let's go of your hair, and you roll two steps away from her. The water's still falling on your heads, and you feel like you're unable to function like a normal human being - ears full of water, you don't hear anything except for the terrible ringing, your nose is burning, lungs are desperately trying to get some oxygen, your whole body's numb and exhausted from the pain. Your vision gets darker and darker with every second, and you feel like your body is not trying to save itself anymore. Your one last brain cell's quick thinking pushes your astral form out of your body. You look down at yourself, a pathetic sight really, God knows, maybe you'll be dead in a minute, but now you gotta catch up and warn Strange. Thankfully, you can speed up as you float weightlessly through the sewers, turning back to see Wanda coming to consciousness. You see Strange, standing right next to the door he needs to open, but he's not doing anything. Why? What's he waiting for. You're finally close enough to show yourself to them - Christine lets out a shriek again, Strange looks at you in shock.

"The watch - the one you always wear - it's the key, hurry up, you don't have much time, she's getting up" you say hurriedly, feeling how your clock is ticking faster.

"Y/n oh my god" America says, eyes teary, she's probably thinking that you're a ghost already.

Strange does what he's told, the doors open, and he sees the most beautiful yet disturbing place in the world. The Gap Junction. On the high column, you see the shiny thing - Book of Vishanti. He turns back to look at your astral form, that's getting clearer and clearer with every breath.

"GO, take the book, I have to return to my body. Save her. " You plead and leave immediately, not wanting to engage into another delaying conversation.

Hastily, you return to your body, taking a deep breath immediately. You look around and see that Wanda has left you to die alone, luckily, Cloaky sat you, so you wouldn't choke on the still flowing water. With all your strength, you send a spell to the top, stopping the waterfall. You see Wanda disappearing behind the next turn, and try to get up. Cloak pushes you slightly and lifts you up a bit.

"Oh, Cloaky." you sigh, grateful for the flying piece of clothing. Feeling your heart beating in your chest, you take a moment to be grateful for being alive. Although the pain in your body told you that being dead would now be the best option.

You reach the main doors to the Gap Junction, and see Strange taking the book of Vishanti in his hands and Wanda angrily getting closer to them.

Adrenaline fills your veins, and you fly out into the open. Christine notices you and tries to distract Wanda, but you don't mess with an angry witch. Soon, she's choking, unable to breathe, gasping for much-needed air, but the invisible hands of Scarlet Witch never let go. Strange tries to save her and drops the book, you hurry to take it, but Wanda sees an opportunity and with one chaos magic ball she sets their only way of winning on fire.

You completely lose your head and attack her from behind, blasting not-so-powerful spells, because of your lack of strength, and Wanda sends you flying towards Strange. You're unable to stop and crash right into him, both rolling away from the huge impact. Christine lets out her final breath and sinks down on the magical floors, eyes open, full of fear and hatred, looking at Wanda. While you and Strange try to get up, Wanda catches America by her hair and harshly pulls her towards her. Suddenly, America's eyes begin to glow bright blue and a star-shaped portal is opened. You look around, trying to find anything that could save the poor girl, but Wanda's magic shackles you and Strange, you feel like your lungs are being crushed by an impossibly strong hands, and you pass out for a moment.

Meanwhile, Wanda finds her universe and sends America to the real her, finally leaving the body of poor 838 universe's Wanda Maximoff.

You fall and fall, wind in your ears that might still be full of water, strong hands grab you halfway to nowhere, and finally you land on a firm ground, head spinning, you see stars in your eyes for a moment, before a wave of nausea hits you. The hands that were holding tightly onto you finally let go, and you roll a few feet away, getting on your hands and knees, trying not to puke.

"Oh, God, oh God." you hear Strange panting beside you, forehead bleeding from the compact with the stony ground, he sits up and worriedly looks up at you. "You okay?"

You don't answer, focusing hard on your breathing, feeling that if you don't do that, you will never breathe in again. "Y/n?" he calls now more worried, reaching you as quick as his strength lets him. He takes your face, all dirty and smeared with blood in his big, scarred hands, and you avoid his eyes, turning your head to the side. "Are you okay? Can you breathe? Is anything broken?" he lets go of your face and quickly touches your shoulders and arms, checking for any abnormality, until he sees that your side is bleeding. Your Cloak leaves your shoulders, floating a few steps away, allowing Strange to look at you better." Fuck, you're hurt." he rasps, panic taking over him. You're still taking big breaths, finally returning to your body and letting your emotions take over.

"I couldn't stop her." you cry, face distorted by agony. Without any words he pulls you into a hug, you hold on tight onto his robes, as if your whole life depended on the man in front of you. "I wasn't strong enough, it's my fault she took America."

Stephen tries to calm you by saying that you shouldn't blame yourself but the words of pity just make you sob even more. Pushed tightly to his firm chest, you hear his heart beating frantically in his rib cage, he's now rocking you a bit, like a child, and you pour your heart out.

Words, muffled by the material of his robes reach his ears "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, if I was quicker, I would've given you enough time to use the book." You pull your face away from his chest, but he still doesn't let you out of his grasp. "Oh, God, she killed Christine." you say, tears now flowing down your cheeks uncontrollably.

"Shh, it's okay, it's okay, it's not your fault." he tries to soothe you, fighting his own tears.

"Goddammit, Strange, of course it's my fault!" you hit his chest pathetically. Losing his patience, he shakes your shoulders, trying to bring some sense back into you.

"C'mon, y/n, we gotta go, c'mon," he stands up and pulls you up as well. You finally look around and see a heart-clutching sight of the universe. Dirt and dust all around, dark clouds surrounding the whole place, not letting in one ray of sunshine to get through.

"What the hell happened here?" Strange mutters, astounded.

"This world is almost destroyed." you whisper back, drying your tears with the Cloak, who gladly accept his fate. You rake your brain for an answer and finally find one. "An incursion."

"Incursion?"

"The world is colliding with another, and the other, stronger one is destroying it. I doubt there's anyone alive here. The universe probably lost its greatest protector."

Strange looks at you horrified, through the ripped part of your robes, noticing that the bleeding in your side stopped. "I'm going to find Sanctum. Or what's left from it. There's gotta be a way to get out of here. And you, you stay here. You're hurt."

"No one tells me what to do, and I think you know this better than anyone else" you say, gripping your side and limping away first, leaving Strange standing alone for a moment.

Chapter 12: Everybody Hurts

"So," Stephen awkwardly coughs, feeling a bit intimidated by your previous statement, "chaos magic?"

"Yeah." you say, trying to shift your focus on anything else, so that it would hurt less. Lost in your head, you stumble on one of the thousand big stones and bricks scattered on the ground. Strange is quick to catch you, pulling you and his sides together, hugging your right shoulder firmly.

"You're okay?" he asks, panic rising instantly. He can't lose another person in God knows where.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good." you reassure him, but he doesn't let you walk alone. Warmth radiates from him, making you feel better, your bleeding side pushed close to his, you feel safe in his arms. He's silent for a moment, but you know that he wants to ask about the chaos magic again. Before you open your mouth, ready to confess, Stephen beats you with another question.

"How do you know that an incursion happened here?" his eyes look around the ghost town, that once probably was New York.

"My Stephen showed me. After he caused one. He dreamwalked into that universe and watched it slowly disappear into nothingness. He blamed himself, but as the incursion started, there was no way to stop it. Likewise, he could just watch." you sigh heavily. Stephen hugs you more firmly, trying to comfort you with actions, because words will fail now.

"How did he show you that?"

"He told me, Reed and Charles. Then they did some high-tech shit and were able to see what Stephen saw when he dreamwalked there. Truly disturbing sight. I stopped looking at those images when the incursion was still in its early stage. This one" you wave your hand, "this one got really far. I think its days are numbered."

"Oh." was all he said. The Sanctum was still nowhere in sight, and he began to worry.

"About the chaos magic." you say, turning away from Strange, unable to look him into the eyes. "I studied the Darkhold. At first, I was cautious about it, when Stephen began using it. He used to come back to his room, sometimes angry, when the spell failed, sometimes happy, when it was successful. During those times when he was happy, he used to tell me about how wonderful the Darkhold was, how smart and well-thought spells were, how he could use them to make our world even better place, a place without any dangers and threats. Like every human being, I was curious. Curious, but still cautious. When Stephen left for two or more days, I'd go to that little chamber where he kept the book and just read it. Some spells were too easy to do, actually, I was surprised, tried a few, it worked. All too well. Some were incredibly difficult, like the dreamwalking one." you take a deep breath, feeling how Strange's hand is squeezing your shoulder even more firmly. "Before you ask, no, I didn't attempt it. Couldn't risk disturbing something big with my foolishness. I read about the infinite number of universes, and it made me wonder if I actually exist in others. Then Stephen returned. I confessed about reading the book, he said nothing and went straight to it. Then returned late at night, and told me that he's not angry or disappointed, and he actually wanted me to attempt more difficult spells with him. Something in my mind screamed to me that I shouldn't do it, and I refused. He was... Somewhat sad as I announced the news, but didn't push me further. Only asked me to be in the same room as he dreamwalked. Then we learned about Thanos, and he dedicated his time to finding a solution in the multiverse through dreamwalking. I never stopped him. I knew it was bad, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. "

Stephen stayed silent, patiently listening to your story.

"After his death, I was devastated. Something was pulling me to the Darkhold, because his stupid ass didn't think of destroying the book on Titan." you say through your teeth, anger taking place in your heart. You can never forgive him for leaving you alone and choosing death as the way to free from the Darkhold. "But one thing kept me sane all these years. I got through, only attempting a couple of more advanced spells from the book, that's why I couldn't even hold off Scarlet Witch for a longer time."

"Hey, it's not your fault, we couldn't beat her without the book of Vishanti anyway." he says, feeling your guilt. "So, uh, what was that thing keeping you sane?"

"My baby." you finally look at him, he's shocked.

"You have a kid?" he stops, and you free from his grasp, his hand now resting on your other shoulder.

"I could've had. But apparently I suffered a miscarriage on Titan, when Thanos hurt me."

Stephen's eyes are full of tears, threatening to fall down any moment.

"Reed checked me after we returned to Earth, but told me only after the funeral. He did scans and other stuff as my wounds were quite deep, and said that I was pregnant. And the baby died together with his father."

Finally, the tear in his eye slips away, quickly running down his cheek, your own tears wetting your robes again. "Oh, y/n" he pulls you to his chest, hugging you tightly again, not able to say anything else. He places a kiss on your head, so soft that you don't even feel it. Your one hand on his back, the other - between both of your stomachs. Today feels as painful as all the days after the funeral. Universe really finds ways to break your spirit again and again.

You feel as if an eternity passed, standing here, in Stephen Strange's embrace, listening to his heart beating, knowing that he's here, he's alive and breathing, not lying in a casket six feet underground. You somehow manage to control your breathing before making yourself a pity's case again, and wiping your nose with the back of your hand, you create some distance between the two of you.

"We don't have much time. Wanda can take America's powers anytime." you get back to reality, although this one looks exactly how you feel - empty and destroyed.

"Yeah." Stephen rasps, voice heavy from silent crying. Of course, he was crying. He could've been a father, a dad, an example for a child in another universe. But life has a funny tendency of never letting him be happy.

The walk to Sanctum is silent, sadness hanging over your heads. He wanted to say something, you knew that from the way he was unconsciously moving his fingers. Your Stephen used to do the same. But you just couldn't bring yourself to do it.

You see finally see the Sanctum. Standing there all alone in this vast place, not surrounded by old buildings like it used to be. The roof is weirdly disappearing in a smoke-like way, as if someone from above was trying to suck it in. Literally. You reach the building, not really expecting to find anyone there living, and standing apparently on what were supposed to be stairs to the main entrance - now it was just a weird pile of cement blocks.

"Stay." Stephen gently grabs your wrist.

"No fucking way, I've come this way, I'm not leaving you now. Also, I know the Sanctum just as good as you, and can quickly find a spot to hide." you whisper, afraid that someone might be listening.

"Don't you think that whatever version of me or not me," recalling how surprised he was when Mordo stepped out of the Sanctum, Strange tells, "is living here, I'm sure they are not expecting guests. Especially the ones who look exactly like them."

"Do not make me kick your ass, cuz I can do it right here, right now. I'm going." your word is the last, and Strange just dramatically waves his hands, before helping you get to the doors.

You don't get a chance to knock - the door opens on itself, and you see what's left of the grand entrance - just stairs, stairs that once led to your lover's bed and embrace, now led to nowhere, or right into the lion's lair.

You take a deep breath and put your foot on the first step, waiting for Strange. He stops as well, stretching out his hand to you. You look at him, at his hand, and then nod, taking it and squeezing in your palm. He needs this. You need this. To face whatever threats await you. To save America Chavez.