#levitating around the room rn
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I saw your requests are open for Harry Potter, was wondering if you’d do one with Fred Weasley 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 I’m like super obsessed w him rn
Plot can be whatever you’d like !
a/n: hi!! i love Fred too!! thank you so much for the request, I hope I did alright 😁
prompt: fred didn't die during the war - was only seriously injured. upon waking up at saint mungos, the obvious reaction is to flirt with the cute healer tending to him.
warning(s): it's been a while since i've read the books and I wasn't exactly paying attention to the lore while watching the movies. I made up some spells and plot lmao
word count: 1,073
Confervo
Waking up felt like dying, Fred thought as his eyes lifted open feeling like lead. His joints felt like stone, weighing him down onto the slightly cushioned bed. At first, the red headed twin thought he was in a muggle hospital, with the bright white walls and fluorescent lights disorienting him even more. But then he saw owls fly through the air, delivering messages and potion bottles flying into the hands of healers, standing at beds identical to Fred's. Speaking of...
"Hello there.." Fred attempted his best flirting tone, his consciousness desperate to impress the healer doing magic next to him. But all that came out was a croak akin to one of a dying frog. Mortified, Fred's face went red, wanting to hide under his blanket as you stifled your laugh under your hand, trying to keep the air of professionalism.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Weasley," your voice soothed the headache building behind his eyes, you raised your wand, assessing him as you continued speaking, "you gave everyone quite a scare you know. I'm sorry to tell you this, but you're banned from fighting anymore dark lords and his army."
Fred tried to laugh at your humor tinted words before reality crashed into him. Sitting up quickly, Fred felt pain shoot through his body. You shot forward, your hands steadying him as his eyes went wide with worry.
"Did we- Is my family okay? George? Ron? Ginny? Mum and Da-"
The comforting pressure of your hand on his shoulder cut him off. He looked up at you, his body relaxing at the answer in your eyes. Wincing, he leaned back, still sitting up but now in a more relaxed position.
“You won. He’s gone.”
You didn’t need to say the Dark Lord’s name, you didn’t want to. Even thinking of the man sent shivers down your spine, making you aware of every dark corner in the room. Fred watched as you walked over to your station, grabbing a potion bottle and twirling it around until the blue liquid turned clear. When you returned to the bedside, you poured some of the liquid into a spoon. The red head watched as the clear potion levitated above the metal utensil, only spilling down like water at a whispered spell that passed your lips.
“Confervo.”
You raised the spoon up to Fred’s lips, who took the potion with slight struggle. It spilled down his throat, tasting slightly of hazelnut. He raised an eyebrow at you, question in his eyes. You winced slightly, setting the spoon down before turning back to face him.
“The explosion you were caught in caused severe internal damage. The Confervious spell along with the knitting potion will heal whatever injuries our efforts haven’t been able to completely heal,” watching as Fred’s eyes widened, you were quick to console him, “But it’s okay! Because the duo has a 97% success rate and, not to brag, but I happen to be one of the best casters of the spell.”
Fred chuckled a bit at your attempt, his body starting to realize the trauma it had been through. You sat on the stool next to his bed, fiddling with your wand as you watched a pocket watch in your hand with intensity. Later Fred would find out that watch is how you saw the healing of his internal organs. Fred poked your arm playfully, getting your attention.
“So, what’s the damage?”
He wiggled his eyebrows but you just stared at him, waiting for an explanation. He used his eyes to ‘point’ at the area between his legs.
“Am I all still here?”
You sighed, folding your hands on your lap.
“Unfortunately, we couldn’t save it.”
Your serious face completely fooled Fred, who for a moment let complete terror take over his features. After a minute or two, you burst into laughter, causing Fred to groan and cover his face with his hands.
“You should’ve seen your face!”
You laughed between words, clutching your side. Fred nodded, recognizing he had been played.
“You got me, you got me. But you must mean this means war.”
You faux gasped, placing your hand on your chest sarcastically.
“Oh no, a battle with a man stuck in a hospital bed, I’m shaking in my boots.”
Fred full on laughed at that before groaning in pain and glaring lightly at you.
“Don’t make me laugh, my insides are still knitting back together!”
You smirked at him, checking the pocket watch to see that the healing was almost complete. You heard a ruckus outside Fred’s room and soon the door burst open, a frazzled fellow Healer sending you an apology with their eyes.
“The Weasley Family plus Harry Potter and Hermione Granger are here for F. Weasley.”
Your coworker said with an exhausted tone before pushing through the crowd back to their station. You smiled at the family as they piled in, answering Molly’s frantic questions and Arthur’s insistence his son was getting the best care. Fred’s siblings, plus Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, stood at his bedside, doting on him. You turned away, letting the family have a moment, organizing your tools and putting back the potion and pocket watch. When you turned back around, you saw George look at you and nudge his twin with waggling eyebrows. Fred turned and winked, causing your face to heat up as you held back a smile.
You joined in the conversation after a few moments, once more answering the questions and consoling the worried thoughts of Fred’s parents. After a few hours, visiting hours were over, and you gently excused the family from the room. You got Fred’s room set up for night, fluffing his pillow and blushing when he craned his neck so his face was close to yours. As you were getting ready to leave, you felt Fred’s finger brush against your wrist, lightly but effectively holding you back.
“You know, I’m not so fond of being blown up but I am really glad it brought me to meet you. When I get out of here, if you’re available, do you want to catch a movie? It’s a muggle thing my pop has been obsessed with recently, I’m just glad he got past his rubber duck phase becau-”
“Yes.”
You answered quickly, cutting off Fred’s uncharacteristic nervous rambling.
The two of you smiled softly at each other before you left the room, mentally compiling a list of quick healing spells.
#fred weasley#fred weasly x reader#fred weasley fanfiction#fred wealsey fic#fred weasley x reader#harry potter fanfiction#healer!reader#fred x healer!reader
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This is sooooo random (‘m sorraay 🤭🥲) BUT
Zoro x Vampire Reader AU??? Idk It. just. Makes. SENSE (in my head)
Her sassy little ass having all these supernatural powers BUT he‘s still stronger than her when it comes to physical strength
THE TENSIONNNN 😩
Her sitting on his big thighs, lips ghosting over his neck, gentle scrape of her teeth along the pronounced vein in his neck (i‘m a giggling mess rn)
I‘m going feral for this man 🧍🏽♀️
So. I did a thing for you. Idk if you’ll like it, but I felt like since it is spooky season why not 🤷🏽♀️ this isn’t edited so…sorry bout that.
Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Vampire!reader
Words: 1.2k
Warnings: PinV, strangulation, semi-rough smexy, mentions of gore
It was nights like tonight when you reveled in the hunt. The little game of cat and mouse that always left you wondering if you were indeed the predator or if Zoro allowed you to be.
If you worried more about your survival and not the next time you’d see him you might have been able to tear yourself away.
All rational thought seemed to go out the window, however, whenever your eyes caught sight of powerful arms leaning against the wood of the bar. Broad shoulders that housed scar after scar that your nails had left as they’d dug into his skin.
Even now you could hear the low grunt pressed against your neck. The way his body stuttered with a delicious severity as you marked him. Zoro had only allowed himself a moment to pause before he was back to spreading you open and bare underneath him.
As much as you enjoyed feeling him unravel beneath you, Zoro loved it even more when it was you who bleed for him.
You walked the shadows of the room with your borrowed blood pounding in your veins. The excitement of the hunt makes you light on your feet. You are almost to him your hands about to cover his eyes to make him guess who when he’s already speaking your name.
“I thought you said you weren’t coming.”
It is what you said. The last time you’d seen him playing back in your mind until you felt your blood boil. He’d called you weak. How could you be weak when you could levitate objects and strong enough to crack a man’s larynx with your pinky. You were born to prey on those the world deemed weak and strong and yet…
Zoro surpassed you in strength and speed without ever breaking a sweat. He was never scared of you killing him, because he knew you couldn’t. Not unless he allowed it.
“Change of plans.”
He wouldn’t look at you. Only his peripherals glided over you as you leaned against the bar facing him. He was lazily drinking the last few drops inside his mug. Your eyes hungrily watched as the pulse in his neck ticked in time with each swallow, and the hunger that dried the back of your throat began to grow.
You could feel the irritation rolling off him in waves. While Zoro wouldn’t look at you directly, he was taking you in. You knew it was a matter of time before he realized your parlor wasn’t alabaster, but pink and rosy.
You’ve had your fill of someone else that wasn’t him.
You could hear the metal of the mug creaking in protest. His hands collapsed the metal around his fingers until he suddenly released it. The same hand he’d used to crush an unsuspecting mug now lashed out to grab at your arm before you could pull away.
A part of you wanted to try and pull your arm free. You hated the way the men in this bar regarded you like another weak piece of flesh. If only they knew what you were - if they knew Zoro was the only one able to tame you.
He crashed into the bathroom and didn’t release his hold on you until he slingshot you inside. His foot slamming the door shut behind him just before he locked it.
“Who was it?”
A shiver caressed its way down your spine at the rage that darkened his voice. The way it clung to your skin and promised to hurt you if only you misbehaved.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about-“
Zoro was just there. His body pressing yours against the wall and a strong hand wrapped precariously around your throat. He squeezed just enough to make you gasp, your canines extending out like a snake set to strike.
Most people would be afraid, but you could already feel him growing hard against your stomach.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Who did you feed on?”
The hand on your throat tightened a little more, just enough to force your legs to rub together for some friction.
“You want to know how I sucked him dry,” your words struggled to free themselves from your lips. His hand was tightening as you spoke. “The way he groped at my breasts just before I tore open his throat.”
As you talked, you could hear his free hand struggling to remove the sash at his waist. His swords fell with a clank to the floor as his foot kicked your legs wider apart. You’d purposely worn this dress just to provide him with easier access to your cunt. You knew once his hand slid between your thighs, he’d feel how wet you already were. The wet sound of two fingers pushing past your folds filled the room and you your knees buckled.
Zoro knew how to drive mewling sounds of pleasure from your lips just like this. His fingers working you open - stretching and curving - just right until his hand was soaked. Your strangled breathing became more labored as your hips struggled to meet each flick of his wrist.
“How did he taste?”
“He tasted like a pig,” you sputtered, your hands clawing at his hand as you felt your climax building.
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Please, Zoro, I-“
He knew what you wanted. You wanted to fuck him. You wanted to feel his cock stretching your walls and hitting that sweet spot only he knew how to guide you too. You wanted to bury your teeth into the delicate part of his throat and feel his warmth fill you from mouth to cunt. But he wasn’t going to give it to you. Not until you answered him.
“Did you enjoy it?”
“No, fuck! It wasn’t you! I just want you!”
You knew he would’ve made you continue to beg him if he wasn’t just as desperate. The minute you felt his grip on your throat release just enough, you pounced. You moved him back to the sink. Your hands working his pants down just enough that his cock spring free.
You placed one foot on the edge of the sink and pushed up. Zoro’s hand instinctively grabbing at your ass to help hold you steady as you placed your other foot on the opposite side of him. He helped line himself up at your entrance before he pushed his cock inside giving you no time to adjust to his width.
It didn’t matter. You loved every inch as his hips pistoned up into you. His hands controlled the speed and depth as your perched feet stayed on the sink. The sound of your bodies meeting sent wet sounds of filth to fill the small space. You were so close - so close
Without warning, you reared your head back and struck down on his throat. The delicious copper taste of blood flooding over your tongue seconds later. For a brief moment, you felt Zoro’s body stutter at the shock of your teeth pressing down into his flesh, but he easily recovered.
Zoro held a map of every place your canines had been on his skin. You would continue to claim him and he would continue to let you. For he was the hunter and you his prey.
#anon#answered#I hope this is something you like nonnie or close to what you wanted#it is a Drabble so also sorry bout that lol#roronoa zoro#opla#opla zoro#one piece#one piece live action#roronoa zoro x you#roronoa zoro x reader#roronoa zoro smut#zoro smut
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kuro modern au stuff that i word vomited into my notes app
kind of a Vincent summoned sebastian to save ciel so ciel doesnt actually owe sebas anything
amnesia? idk
single dad moment! except theres this other dad whos kinda find.. (cough agni)
i think vincent was like do NOT let ciel know ur a demon so sebastian keeps it a secret but he doesnt have a good handle on like. Humans. so he kinda does a bad job and ciel definitely knows that he's weird but doesnt say anything. will go out of his way to gaslight you when sebastian does weird shit because he thinks its funny
"hey uhh is your dad levitating?"
"no?"
"he's flying above the school rn"
"that's a bird"
u think suddenly being a butler is hard? have fun being a dad bitch
alois is there but thats complicated. claude and hannah are DIVORCED but on decent terms (i think claude is like. toxic alpha male podcast type guy) and claude sees alois on alternating weekends!
are they demons? i dont know
i think ciel and alois can be friends. platonically. alois would probably say yes if ciel wanted to be romantic but i Promise you he does not. they are just pals :)
im saying ciel has a crush on elizabeth because i can (she's not his cousin here). emo boy x sunny church girl. said sunny church girl has to ask the mcdonalds employees for the blue raspberry slushie they forgot to put in ciel's order because emo boy is too scared.
IM 13 EVERYTHING SUCKSSSSS
grelle is actually living her best life transitioned with anne so they are ciel's aunts on his late mom's side. i think grelle likes ciel. mom figure moreso than anne is.
ciel owns four bongs and definitely a vape or two. come on now
he's also probably got celiac and is lactose intolerant he is just a feeble boy i think
he listens to twenty one pilots. sorry! sorry.
ciel is goth alois is punk those r kinda just the rules
ciel is insanely smart top of the class this shit is easy for him.
yells at sebastian daily. figured out what happened with his real parents around the age of uhhhh 12 or 13? has been an absolute terror ever since
"it was really nice of your dad to bring cookies for the field trip!"
"i hope he fucking chokes on one"
"oh!"
sebastian and claude are pta rivals.
"is this lemon bread store bought? my, how... efficient!"
"you made these from scratch? i can tell."
"i've never seen an interesting looking salsa! very exciting."
ciel purposefully invites alois over constantly bcus it pisses sebas off. alois is Terrified of that man.
"go grab the chips from the kitchen"
"but... what if mr michaelis is in there?"
"mr m- you mean my dad? tell him he can shove a faucet up his ass"
"id rather die on the spot"
sebastian will yell at ciel and is maybe a little emotionally unavailable but he's trying!!! it's hard :(
does that Dad thing where he comes into ciels room and is like hey bud......... what r u up to..
ciel and seiglinde r also palls. the smartest people in school
lizzie is a JOCK. she plays softball.
alois is a theater kid come on now
ciel is best at writing and literature analysis, specifically fiction. enjoys history, language, and Some sciences as well.
nerd
au where myspace is still a thing ciel has a myspace account
he definitely writes shitty poetry
wants to major in business
alois is a glee and pitch perfect truther
#thats all i got#these thoughts have been roaming around my brain for a while so#here#please add more im begging i want to hear other peoples thoughts so bad#kuroshitsuji#black butler#ciel phantomhive#sebastian michaelis#dadbastian nation rise up#angi#elizabeth midford#alois trancy#claude faustus#hannah annafellows#grelle sutcliff#madam red#textpost#mine#modern au#vincent phantomhive#cielizzy
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Sirius x reader where he’s not answering letters all summer and so the reader decides to sneak into Grimmauld Place to check up on him. Up to you if they get caught or not
You pay Sirius a visit after a month of lost contact — sirius x gn!reader fluff
warnings: slight angst, mention of Sirius' crappy family but no details
words: 0.6k
a/n: it's actually embarrassing how long it's taken me to get to this. I may be going through a lot rn but I admit this has been sitting in my inbox and my drafts for a while, so anon, I'm really sorry and I hope you like it
Even though you and your boyfriend had spent the better part of the last month of school talking about how you can still stay in touch over the break, Sirius hadn’t responded to a single one of your letters so far this summer. You’ve sent at least two per week for a whole month and they’ve all gone unanswered.
All kinds of thoughts were digging into your mind as to why this was happening, all of them increasing in intensity the more you let things spiral.
He’s run off with some pureblood girl his parents set him up with. No, he’s just been lying to you about liking you for months. He’s so relieved to be out of your presence. What if something really bad happened to him?!
But you knew Sirius, you knew yourself, and you knew that these thoughts were only going to get more unrealistic the more you let them fester undealt with. So, you decided the best thing to do was run off and pay your boyfriend a visit.
✦✧✦✧✦
You hadn’t brought anything other than your wand—which was concealed in your boot—and two sturdy books on your venture to visit Sirius. They were inconspicuous enough so as to not grab any attention from muggles, but effective at what you needed to do.
After making sure no one was around to see what you were about to do, you placed the two books on the ground and planted a foot on each one, then pulled your wand out from your left shoe and cast a simple levitation spell on each one. It was tough to keep your balance, but you held onto Sirius’ windowsill so it would be easier to stay in one place.
Sure enough, there he was when you looked into his room. You tapped on the pane of glass separating you two to get his attention and it worked; just as quickly as he turned to face the window, he stood up and rushed to open it for you.
“What are you doing here?!” Sirius asked, holding your hand to help you inside.
You shrugged like it was obvious. “You weren’t answering any of my letters. I wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
He looked back at you, defeated. He slumped down on his bed, and you watched him feeling nothing but worry.
“I’m so sorry, love.” Sirius mumbled sadly. “I wanted to, I really did. I just get so stressed when I’m with my family and then writing back slips my mind. Then the more I leave writing to you, I just feel more guilty and I just feel bad writing back at all.”
Instead of a verbal response, you embraced your boyfriend in a tight hug, knowing this is definitely the most loving interaction he’s had since you parted ways at the train station a month ago.
“It’s okay. I understand now that you’ve told me.” You told him. “Do you want me to stay here, Siri?”
He looked at you with teary eyes. “Yeah, as long as we don’t do anything to get caught by my parents.”
“Okay, I’ll stay as long as you promise me one thing.”
He looked up at you, slightly confused, as you brushed your fingers through the silky hair you missed all summer. “What is it?”
“No more one-sided communication. Even if it’s just you sending back letters complaining about your family. I want to hear from my boyfriend when we’re apart.”
He pulled your hand down from the top of his head and brought it down to his lips so he could kiss your palm before answering. “Promise, my dear. I’ll start writing one right now if you’d like.”
#sirius black#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#sirius black x y/n#sirius x reader#sirius black one shot#sirius black imagine#sirius black angst#sirius black fluff#marauders era#marauders angst#marauders fluff#xena's requests
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Tmnp prologue ???
——
Leo winced as a needle pierced his neck. The beeping of heart monitors filled the room. Leo glanced over to Raph and Donnie, huddled together.
Leo sat on a table, doctors checked on his vitals and other stuff. His thoughts were interrupted by a doctor in front of him, shoving him back to the corner with the twins.
They were still little and most definitely scared of all of the needles and tests. “Hey guys…” Leo sat in front of them. Donnie quivered a bit, “Y-you’re ok..?” He asked, holding his curled up twin in his limbs.
Leo smiled softly, “Yup. Tests went well” Leo pulled them closer. “It’s ok…they’ll be gone once they’re done with Mikey…”
They looked over at the doctors handing a screaming baby. Donnie just broke down, tears running down his face, “I-I don’t like this….”
Leo comforted him “It’s ok… we’ll be free soon…”
—————
Leo laid on the floor with the toddler in front of him. Mikey was flapping his wings rapidly, given that the toddler had just learned how to move them.
The twins were sitting nearby, comparing their hooves/ claws.
“Leo? Why is my hoof different than Raph’s?” Leo sighed.
“Well…yknow how we’re all different? Like how me and Raph have short tails but you and Mike don’t? It’s like that” Leo tried to explain in the most friendly way possible that they were genetically modified soldiers meant only to serve the kingdom
“Oh.” Donnie was satisfied.
Suddenly, a nurse trotted in. “Good evening boys.” The nurse carried a clipboard with her wing and began writing “The previous analysis of D-07 and L-03 has shown that D-07 is without magic or particularly useful physical traits and therefore will be disposed of.”
Leo stared, before standing up, “You can’t do that.” Leo barked as he scooped Mikey up onto his back.
The nurse ignored him and went to take Donnie. This flipped a switch in Leo’s brain. Normally he was quiet and reserved, but not now. Leo’s horn was surrounded a bright blue magic and shot a spear of light at the nurse, “C’mon!” Leo levitated both of the twins into his back and stole the key from the unconscious nurse.
Leo unlocked the door and started running through the hallways, desperately searching for a way out. “Leo! Some ponies are chasing us!” Leo didn’t bother to look back as he was met with a wall to his face leo turned to face the guards, all dressed in black armor, the designs clearly modeled after the royal guard
Leo heard a whine from Mikey, “Donnie. Hold onto them tight ok?” Leo looked back at Donnie and gave him a reassuring smile.
Then a bright flash erupted, blinding all of the guards
———
Leo awoke to Donnie in Raph poking his side. He lifted his head and looked around before realizing they weren’t in the facility, but instead on a grassy hill.
Leo immediately looked at his younger brothers, “Are you guys ok?! Where’s Mikey?” His eyes darted around and locked onto the toddler in front of him
“W-we ok…” Mikey said in his broken toddler speech.
Raph peeped up, “You zapped us out and’ve been sleeping…” Donnie nodded in agreement.
Leo pulled the three of them close together, tears in his eyes. “I-i did it.”
———
I’m sick rn so this might be bad but I don’t care
In case y’all didn’t know, Leo is 12, Raph and Donnie are 8, and Mikey is 2. This is how that escaped and tell me if y’all have any questions!!
Also bonus
#panic’s incoherent ramblings#tmnt#doodles#knights rambles#tmnt leonardo#tmnt au#tmnt donatello#tmnt rapheal#tmnt michelangelo#tmnp#teenage mutant ninja ponies#mlp#Raph and Donnie are twins#panic’s tumblr shenanigans#tmp#teenage mutant ponies
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🌻
Playing Subnautic, and it has given me THOUGHTS. Imagine Mirabel finds a separate door in her room one day, and she finds that it is an entrance to see the other water-based Mirabels (Mermaid, Siren, Giant Siren, mini Siren, etc). They have fun with the Subnautica critters, and Mira gets to have fun with others who also breathe and thrive in the water.
Like, just imagine Sub!Mira meeting with GiantMer!Mira, and Sub!Mira treats her like any Leviathan, to which she is treated much the same as Leviathans do: "Tiny me? But she can have teeth and claws like the creatures here? Still gonna protect her!"
REAL. LET THEM MEET UP.
No but, I do think Subnautica Mirabel would be the youngest. Oldest to youngest, Mermaid and Tiny (15), Siren (14), Giant Siren (11), and then Subnautica, who's around 6 or 7. She definitely finds it fascinating how they all have tails, and thinks that's just so cool. And then others find it funny how she looks human, but has gills and can breathe underwater, along with transforming into hybrid leviathan forms (albeit nothing nearly as big).
I wanted to draw Levitation Mirabel holding Mirabel in her hand but my iPad went dead and I don't have my charger rn so. Basically this
Tiny Mirabel is. Flabbergasted that any merfolk can be bigger than a koi. Don't get her wrong, it's cool, but it catches her off guard sometimes 😭
Also that's gotta be a huge door for Giant Mira to fit 💀 jokes aside, I like this crossover <33 ALSO I GOTTA PLAY SUBNAUTICA I HAVEN'T IN MONTHS IM SOBBING
#my asks are open#my asks#encanto#encanto au#au#encanto mirabel#encanto mermaid au#giant siren au#tiny mermaid au#siren au#subnautica au
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rules
rules... hm. Jade's in charge, they handle p much everything. there used to be a river/most around the main area that no one could cross / was allowed (jade enforced this) to cross but it has since disappeared now that our innerworld has expanded. its probably just further out or smthn, idk, but I don't really see it any more. there are certain places only Jade/adjacent can access, like memory file room etc.
creation?
Jade makes it, I think. Idk if they made the original few parts or not, but I do know that most every expansion since was either them or the prev host, who only made some places at first. So, yeah, made, not really natural.
are you aware of the whole of it? or just parts?
Great question. There (may or may not be) a subsystem or two that have there own little innerworld, but I've never seen it and jade refuses to talk about it. Only figure it might exist bc of some headmates that came out once, dropped the comment "there are more of us than you think" into our notes app, then dipped. :/
big/small?does it change?
Very big! and it changes a lot, kindof. mainly just expansions, but some changes on pre-existing things. Although a lot of the buildings have a "bigger on the inside" thing going on. so it looks a little less expensive than it is, often times
elements in it? (cars,, furniture)
Lots of furniture! no cars, though, yet. no need for them. lots of deco and allat. getting into it later
where do y'all live?
In a big building. looks like a skyscraper, acts like a hotel. Everyone has their own rooms. Decorated personally for them. But typically the rooms are pretty small. just a room, with a bed, some decorations, wallpaper/color and windows and that stuff optional and fit to the occupant's taste. as far as I know the only ones that share a room are the two little siblings.
Jade (and others ?) live in a smaller but similar brick building next to it. never been in there.
food? plants?
umm we can grow plants, but we don't really eat inside. at least not that I really remember. I think we can, we just don't, typically.
animals/bugs?
no. I mean not rn. I don't think jade would want to add them either. but we have headmates' who are animals/bugs
can u die/get injured?
no? at least not to a serious extent. if you can, I've never been. its not really a place you can die in. I think if something happened where someone "died", they'd just kinda,,, ghost through it, makes sense? the sense between physical and nonphysical is really thin there, so its easy to just... not
people that aren't alters?? (npcs?)
Im not really familiar w this, but I don't think so
are any of the elements symbolic?
hm, maybe? there's a room that resembles a childhood school's cafeteria, if that counts. I don't think anything is necessarily symbolic, though.
memories from innerworld?
yes, we get memories from innerworld. but more on that in a bit
can u be there and fronting atst?
yes, ish. if you're fronting you can project inside w/out giving up your front "spot", but its not something we do often.
clothes?
huh. idk. obviously we wear clothes, but that image is a bit blurry in my minds eye. Not a developed aspect so far.
can you see yourselves well? are faces/features blurry?
we can see each other easily! faces are relatively easy to see I think. we also have some mirrors, I think, so we can see ourselves.
is anything unstable?
is relatively stable. though the connections between places is a bit funky. sometimes its portals and sometimes you can actually travel, like on foot. The inside of our living space is slightlyyy unstable, I guess, since it changes around a lot to fit everybody's needs. but relatively workable, at least.
dy remember what happens there when fronting?
yes and no. It depends, sometimes we do, but most of the time we do not
how dy move around (teleport, walking, etc?)
a mix of all kids of transportation. you can walk, or levitate, or teleport. but its more common in certain areas to use certain modes of transport.
dy have access all the time? can you communicate while fronting?
Honestly whether or not we have access while fronting is random. but if we're not fronting, then its generally accepted that you'll end up somewhere in the inner world regardless of if you could access it while outside. We cant communicate w/ headmates' in the inner world while controlling the body. BUT if we're only fronting in the front mind space, if that makes sense, then we can (usually?) communicate inwardly.
do you feel/see things well? sights, textures, hugs?
uhh. a little bit. our senses are mostly active, but tbh there isn't much to use our senses on. except hearing and seeing. so we don't always really use the others often?? but we deff can. feeling each other in like hugs and allat is slightly less common but we still do. more like flashes of it than a constant feeling.
fronting room?
yep! there's a little room at the top of the tower/living skyscraper that we front from.
dangerous or safe?
safe! persecutes/"dangerous" others get put "downstairs". not, like, hell or anything. more like a cellar.
jobs/schools?
nope! not really, other than roles. we don't really have any sort of education system, not to say that the caregivers don't occasionally teach the littles and who ever.
where do dormant alters go?
so basically. there's this, like, void? and it has a "floor" but it looks like the rest of the void but its pretty nonphysical despite being a boundary. anyway. floating up in said void, far into it, are these green chrysalis-es that hold dormant alters. jade can open and close them at will but chooses to not do so, typically. Xe doesnt really get in the way of headmates' natural dormancy cycles.
do you turn into animals or are them at all times?
Depends! some have animal and human forms, some only have animal forms. (besides the human-only population). We differentiate the first group from shapeshifters, though. They arent the same thing. Though we Do have a shapeshifter.
baths/showers?
we don't really... have bathrooms or tubs or running water or anything. just not something we need. we don't have bodily processes inside. So there's no need. I guess its possible to get dirty? but because if it being a really mental-based place, you can kinda just... turn off that feature, I guess. we don't really have "bodies" inside, just a barely "physical" projection of our appearance, if that makes sense.
can u smoke/drink? Does it affect front?
No one smokes or drinks as far as we know. Even if they did, I don't think it effects us outwardly. but that hasn't been tested, haha.
question to systems about your inner world:
what rules your inner world have? interpret it however
was it created by you? or was it already there?
do you know it whole? or just parts of it?
is it big or small?
does it change and how/why? often? how much?
can you make elements of it (furniture for example or cars) or they have to be there (also how)?
what kind of elements do you have there in general?
do you all live in one place like a house/hotel?
do you eat? what and where do you get your food? do you have money? do you grow stuff?
do you have animals? bugs?
can you die there (and respawn)? what happens when you die? can you get injured?
do you have people that aren't alters?
do any of the elements mean something metaphorically/symbolically like a mirrored trauma or something or they are just there without a reason other than making it look realistic and a comfy place?
do you have pseudomemories from inner world?
can you be there at the same time as when you are fronting?
what about clothes? do you change them? how?
do you see yourselves well? faces? height? eye color?
is anything unstable?
do you see details well? smells and textures maybe?
do you remember what happened there when you weren't fronting?
how do you move there - walk? teleport? fly? ride something?
do you have access all the time? do you see others only when in head space or during fronting too? can you communicate while fronting?
do you feel others hugging/kissing you?
do you have fronting room or something else?
is it dangerous or safe? do you have inner persecutors?
do you have jobs or school there?
where do your dormant alters go?
do you turn into animals or are them at all times?
do you take baths/showers?
can you smoke or drink there and does it affect you on the front?
tell me as much as you can! I wanna know how other hs look/work :D
Lio
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déjà vu | w. maximoff
summary: as you slowly reconnect with Wanda, you feel a familiar feeling of déjà vu.
warnings: heavy make out, smut, strap-on sex (Wanda receiving) mentions of smoking, mentions of drinking, canon typical violence, angst.
pairing: Wanda x fem!reader
word count: 10k
A/N: this chapter sure was long awaited (i know it was you horny gays) but before the hot sapphic sex everyone wanted (emo wanda my beloved), this chapter deals with a character study of both r and wanda, to understand a little more about who they are rn as people
((by the way, I'll be taglisting the chapters from now on, so if you want to participate, just say something in the comments
enjoy!
|series masterlist|
|part one| |part two| |part four| |part five| |part six|
《《《《《《《ᱬ》》》》》》》
A carton of almond milk, a jar of peanut butter, a dozen eggs, a stick of butter, a can of peas, a bag of soft multigrain bread and a sizable bottle of wine are the components of the plastic basket that Wanda carries slung over her right arm.
She doesn't know that she forgot to get a can of corn too.
But the basket is kind of weighty and she might as well use her magic to levitate the items around her own silhouette, but she prefers that way, holding them down herself with her own arm strength.
Sometimes it's good to keep the sense of normality active. Even if normality just means carrying a basket full of groceries around the supermarket.
She then looks at the face of the brown watch buttoned at the base of her left wrist and checks the time, blinking her greenish eyes after squeezing a long, full yawn in the back of her throat.
A gray-haired old lady (Mrs. Sharon Davis, an elderly widow, all wrapped in her pale blue cardigan) in front of her appears to be in a conflict with herself to find some of the change interred in the lowest of her silver wallet.
And Wanda scrutinizes the establishment around herself, between the shelves stocked with groceries and the glossy linoleum floor; the weary gaze wavering absorbedly over her own white-fabric sneakers and contingently fixing on a dark, even smear on the floor between them.
Old Mrs. Davis still hasn't spotted her desired coins, and she's been digging into her wallet for the silver pennies for a good few minutes now.
Wanda listens over her shoulder as someone pulls into a shopping cart right behind herself and lets out an audible groan, evidentially annoyed at the delay of the old lady with her change, but Wanda doesn't see the point in bothering to torment herself.
It's not yet six o'clock and she'll be peaceably walking home, for Westview is a small, undisturbed, reticent suburban town where everything is so close and easy to find. And she knows that, with her house being just a few blocks away from the locality of the modest market, she won't be long in coming to prepare dinner for her and her boys (whom she has left securely at the house, both doing their math homework).
She smiles tenderly to herself when she thinks about Billy and Tommy.
After all, she knows she's never loved anyone as passionately as she loves those two little boys (the grace of her life, the reason for her morning smile and for the blaze of keenness pulsing within the fond fortifications of her warmish heart).
For her they are everything, and that is why she would do anything for them – they are the epithet of the purest form of love that Y/N had ever gifted her with; the culmination of their love converted into two vulnerable little creatures that are made up of the best of the two of them.
She just knows, like a good mother who understands both her children so well, that at that moment, the twin boys are probably watching some silly cartoon on the television set beside the broad fireplace found in the corner of the commodious living room.
And she is placid in a supermarket line, getting a whiff of the eccentric consequence of the odd combination of the full-bodied aromas of cleaning product and some sturdy feminine perfume – an even slightly nauseating aroma, kind of overpowering and suffocating.
(In some aisle away from her, a child is heatedly asking his mother to buy him some treats)
Wanda then ponders about making something a little special for dinner, and recalls about the delicious kugel recipethat her mother used to prepare in the length of her childhood days, back in devastated Sokovia, so many years in the remote past that encompasses the beginning of the disasters that marked her life.
The memory that gushes over her is sentimental and bittersweetly recurring to her core; she deliberates about the sporadic months of starveling and a small humble family of four, when her father was lucky with his sales and there was a sufficient amount of money left to buy the soldiers' leftover ingredients.
But then, she retrieves back to the years of her late youth, all lived in the restful caresses of the compound in upper Manhattan. She was still understanding about how to breathe without having Pietro to hold her hand. She was learning to live on her own.
She was coming to terms with the truth that living didn't inevitably have to be a bad experience at all; not when Y/N showed her that there could still be delight in the little things in life.
And it was Y/N who used to marvelously praise the dish when Wanda found comfort in the act of cooking, and she always repeat a few slices every time Wanda cooked it so long ago, when they were just two teenage lovers (and eventually also young wives, both living in a small bubble of love and companionship on the edge of a comfortable wooden cottage surrounded by dozen of yards of apple orchards).
There was the sweet virtuousness of the warmth of two young girls' lives at that time. It was the first time that Wanda was really fond of being young (of breathing and having a beating heart, of having a life to live valuing every little detail of it).
She memorizes the exultant smile of her ex-wife, looking so light and beautiful even while talking with her mouth full (a half-crocken smirk drawn to her left-side, like the smirk also articulated in the innocuous characteristics of her little Tommy after he was born, which reminds her so much of the radiance that used to gleam in the sweet features of her former companion).
Her ex-wife wasn't always a lonesome and distant creature creeping in the corners of her mind, and it genuinely aches inside her chest to remember that.
Y/N always devoured lavishly every traditional Sokovian dish she has ever prepared and promptly asked for more – and then thanked her with a chaste kiss placed on the pulp of her lips, which promptly evolved into the building of an intimate, sweaty moment with two bodies rubbing greedily against each other.
But she soon lets out a crestfallen, rather disillusioned sigh, repressing herself for having gone back to those secluded memories amorously stored in the edge of her brain in the first place (of the concept of two adolescent girlfriends absorbed in love in the purest sense of the word, emulating the seriousness of a relationship with adult bearing, but never losing, at its core, the youthful sweetness worthy of teenage lovers). Two girls playing love in a world that was a little too hard on them.
She glares ruefully at the bulbous base of the red wine bottle and then lets out a sorrowful exhalation.
Her relationship with Y/N felt like it was straight out of the old sitcoms that she always appreciated so much, where no problem was a genuine obstacle and that, by the end of the day, the two lovers would be in each other's affectionately secure arms again (and that perhaps she let have an effect on her a little too much, when dealing about decisions made early on in her adult life).
But then she reminisces that she was merely turning eighteen years old when she became a wanted on an international scale, and that, prior to that, she had also grown up in a war-torn country.
She never knew how to behave like a normal person per se – whether that was before or after she became able to expel bolts of magical energy from her fingertips. She never quite knew how to fit into the role of a child or a young adult in the first place. Not by herself.
There was no time in Wanda’s life to understand precisely how to fit these labels (she was protesting with so much loathe constricted within her heart, volunteering to save her homeland, being made of little more than a lab rat by the clutches of a bunch of mad men, being used by the being that promised her greatness, but only ended up costing her the life of her darling brother).
In the cramped confines of a bleak, sullied cell, with only a modest television in the corner to entertain her mind away from the needles and the brutality, there were not many allusions of love and passions that elapsed through her life outside a square screen.
Wanda was aware that she just mimicked other people's movements and transcribed them into her own actions, as if it was all just a show and she was its young star, trying to intomb in her core the path of catastrophe and violence that had always shadowed her closely; it was only the years of strict therapy, self-knowledge and self-care, right after being blipped and coming back, that edified her to be her own person in a truly healthy way. There would be no more extremes in her life.
Her cohabitation with Y/N at the time facilitated, of course – even though her wife had changed a lot in the time that followed since the blip, at first, things had worked out well between them. Or as well as possible under the anomalous circumstances.
The two of them took care of the (still) newborn twins and of each other, always with great tenderness and affection while they did it. At least that's how it worked for the first year after their reunion – until Y/N got into alcohol's graces for good, that is.
Their relationship had always felt rather light and jovial before Thanos snapped his fingers. And after that she might even have come back, but it was indeed her marriage that had turned to dust in that remote dreary day in Wakanda. In all honestly, she's not quite sure what's changed in that meantime that she's been away (dead, she was dead). And it's uneasy to ponder about it, but sometimes she does – she can’t help it.
Her corporeal existence had disintegrated into a sift of life, crumbling into her own ashes. There was color, and then the dreadfully wide expanse of emptiness (death); she, as a self-aware being, ceased to exist with just a thought and a snap of two fingers.
Her consciousness faded before she could even realize she was doing it – the palms of both her hands constrained firmly against the wound in YN's stomach that was leaking bundles of fresh blood. And Wanda never relatively questioned her existence before that (she only questioned why she ceased to exist in the first place). Returning to dust, as people of faith would say.
Five long years that slipped through her fingers and dripped onto the floor in the form of a veil of dust.
It still feels odd in her guts, even ten years later, to remember that there's a void somewhere in her life that would be filled with the time that was thieved from her by the Infinity Gauntlet. A void that had once been filled by the subtle presence of Y/N's love.
(Once, when the twins were about a year old after the blip, Y/N drunkenly knelt down with her face defectively reclining on Wanda’s thighs and questioned her as to why Wanda and the babies where the ones erased from existence while she stayed behind, abandoned like an old piece of furniture that no one wants to use anymore. Wanda never knew how to answer it, but they got divorced about a month later)
But she imagines that it, the crumbliness of their relationship, has something to do with the fact that they were both a little precocious in getting married before their twenties properly speaking; maybe if they were older and more experienced before doing it, she thinks, standing in line at the supermarket, maybe then they wouldn't have had the sorrowful culmination that they did (the crying faces and the broken hearts).
Maybe they could have risen together, and not just drifted further and further away as the days passed.
Maybe Y/N didn't feel guilt-ridden every time the twins cried in need to be held or fed. Maybe Wanda wouldn't have queried her for the love she no longer knew how to give – she is fully aware of the fact that she has always had a somewhat pushy nature, after all.
Maybe this, maybe that.
She doesn't know why she's been thinking about maybe so much these past few days. But it's not her fault that her ex-wife happens to be so pleasing to the eye.
The person behind her in line grumbles again, and there is a mischievous chuckle that reaches her ears with airs of grace. Wanda is sincerely considering summoning some coins with her magic for Mrs. Davis.
“Oh my God, this wine is divine!”
It is Sarah Proctor who addresses Wanda, the key to undeniably everything in this town. Wanda knows it's the other woman because a sudden pulsing urge to fade away takes over her nervous system as soon as the voice echoes behind herself.
She is the high-nose blonde woman who lives up the street, is a devoted member of the Westview Elementary School parent-teacher association (in the year before Wanda had witnessed her make a young teacher leave the room in tears after a meeting), proudly cultivates the most exquisite yellow roses in the neighborhood and wears a pair of classy yoga pants that would fit a young teenager with half of her age. A self-proclaimed wine mom.
Her daughter is a classmate of Billy and Tommy, and the children often attend both the Proctor and Maximoff residences – which occasioned in Sarah a vague idea of intimacy that only endures in the head of the blonde woman with bobbed hair.
She has already invited Wanda several times to Westview Pool Club girls' gatherings, but Wanda politely declined with an odd smile and a trivial wave of her hand, because she's never been the socially outgoing kind of type—and she's always been under the impression that every attempt Sarah made from approaching her were due to the fact that the other woman knew of her past as an Avenger (as did most of the small-town citizens), and so was trying to turn her into a kind of living-tourist-spot for the eyes of the rest of the world to witness.
(Rumors had it that Sarah would run for mayor in the upcoming election, and having a former Avenger as the face of her campaign certainly sells well with the predilections of the American public. Little does she know that Wanda won't vote for her)
“Oh yes, it's one of my favorites” Wanda retorts, talking about the dark tall bottle of red wine prudently deposited inside her plastic basket “It's been a while since I've had a drink, so I decided to buy a bottle to open this weekend”
“Some special occasion, I suppose?” Sarah articulates a suggestive grin, but Wanda just frowns uncertainly, half squinting at her neighbor.
“What- no, no. No” she flashes a half embarrassed, half awkward smile, chuckling nervously while doing so “Y/N is staying with the boys for the weekend, so it's just a special little thing for me. All by myself. A quarantine-style staycation. A whole weekend... just to myself"
“Y/N, huh?” Sarah raises a well-crafted eyebrow in a pique of curiosity “Your ex-wife, right? I remember seeing her at the twins' birthday party. I mean, she's pretty, yes, but she's quite the quiet type, huh...”
“Yeah, she was never one to talk much… but neither am I, honestly"
“A pair made in heaven, indeed” Sarah then flashes a smile, but the taste that slides across Wanda's tongue is bitter and kind of hard to swallow.
She shifts her body weight uncomfortably from one leg to the other.
“But wait, she's also an Avenger, isn’t she? Yeah, she's the one in the black and white outfit! Oh my God! Who wore a jacket over it and had that kinda mean attitude, all punk rock and stuff?”
“Herself” Wanda agrees, pressing her lips together in a long, clumsy line. She just wants to go home and cook her damn kugel.
“Oh my, how did I not notice this before? I remember seeing her in the news once, when I was in college. I also had a taste for delinquents back then, if you know what I mean”
Wanda feels a hot twinge high in her face and she bites the inside of her cheek in a rather timid act (but there's no denying that Y/N's somewhat rebellious attitude has always had a lewd effect on her legs as a young teenager with a schoolgirl’s heart).
“She and Black Widow, I think, saved the life of the mayor in that bombing on the Fourth of July in... 2015, 2016, maybe? Yeah, I remember that! She's the one who's super strong, isn't she? Who held up a scaffold once and saved those kids”
"That's her, yes"
The brunette muss in a limp voice, which seems to draw a slightly indecent laugh from the blonde woman with her shopping cart full of knick-knacks and silver hoops clicking in her earlobes. It is from her that the aroma of sturdy perfume comes.
“Well, I imagine that super strength of hers comes in handy in some… situations”
“Situ-“ but then she blinks just one time “Oh”
Mortification hangs over Wanda like a bucket of paint spilled over her dark-haired head.
She opens and closes her mouth like a golden fish, frowning, and her cheeks don't take long to reach strong shades of scarlet, glowing red like one of the tomatoes inside Sarah's cart.
It's inappropriate, and she knows it, but she can't help but feel a certain tingle in her breasts as lapses of memory enlighten her thoughts with the ghost of touches coursing along her body. Then she thinks of Y/N's warm, measured breath against her earlobe (of strong hands pinning her wrists above her head, of a tense, impassive hip against her own hip, of the cracked headboard and the broken bedframe). A movement and a moan. An electrical discharge in her bowels.
And then, fuck...
Just Y/N tearing her insides apart.
The other woman smiles viciously, and Wanda suddenly wishes she hadn't put on a sweater before leaving the house, because she can actually feel herself starting to perspire at the expectant look her neighbor bestows on her.
She's never been one to deal with such intimacies with anyone other than her ex-wife (merely some casual, unsuccessful and sporadic blind dates that's never been more than a few kisses and a few touches here and there, by no means ending up in her or anyone else's bed).
But she permits herself only to flash a wan grin towards the other woman when she realizes that, in front of her, the old lady has lastly found her damn change.
Fucking finally.
And then, with the memory still boiling hungrily in her innards, like a hungry beast devouring her from the inside out, she takes a large step in the other direction, trying to walk away from Sarah as humanly possible, as if the other woman carries with her a toxic cloud that sickens everything that comes in contact with her.
If Wanda couldn't probably get a nice lawsuit for that (or worst), she'd turn Sarah into a disgusting slimy frog.
“Well, I, I, I need to go, Sarah, but it was really nice meeting you around here. Bye” the enchantress raises her wrist, bidding the blonde woman goodbye with a wave of her hand and a small, introverted (half-awkward) grin.
There is barely time for an answer to be formulated on the part of the housewife. Wanda's cheeks are still red hot as she (virtually) dashes through the small supermarket's automatic double doors like a fugitive on the run. Mrs. Davis drops a coin on the floor on her way out.
ᗢ
You don't know exactly how long you've been raising and lowering the joint of your bent elbow above your head. It doesn't feel right to do it, just as it doesn't do it if it feels wrong. It's just necessary – it’s like cracking some eggs if you're in the mood for an omelet for breakfast.
You just have the fullest conception that a few good minutes have passed since the beginning of all the activity, and as in the rehearsal of a play, you are repeating the gestures until you overcome them with great proficiency and your culmination comes out perfect, from your liking.
And you don't bother to intend to stop doing it anytime soon – such a guttural, animalistic and barbaric action. At this point, the movement is already instinctive after being recorded in at the core of your memory, an automatic message engraved between the ligaments of your neurons.
You've done it innumerable times before, and you know you'll do it a few more times after this one.
You lift your right arm, lowers your implacable fist constricted like a steel ball, the resonance of smashed cartilage and wrecked bones echoing in your eardrums, all instructed by the figure of a bloodthirsty invisible conductor within the ramparts of your own cranium.
The face of the bewildered guy lying beneath you looks like a loaf of raw, misshapen meat as you repeat a cadence of sequentially delivered punches against his facial bones.
And he, who is at least twice as big as you, lets out a piercing howl of pain from the cavernous depths of his throat, as even a wild bear would do if attacked deep in a forest.
But in that alley on Long Island there is not a soul available to help him to get rid of your uncomplacent fists – not at the end of a passage that is unpopulated, far from prying eyes that could creep in your direction during the action which takes place there, a beacon of environment squeezed between two amorphous walls of scorched bricks, which gives the illusion of a single long, damp, narrow street.
A sphere of blood is clotted on your face, like an eccentric gemstone, a dark red pearl splattered under the arch of your left eyebrow. And you pant heavily, your veins stiffening.
You've never been one to refuse punching a motherfucker in the face – your forte has always been pounding up things, whether on the countless missions conveyed alongside your teammates or at work during your teenage years, taking advantage of your inhuman gifts to have something to eat at the end of the week.
You've never had a dilemma in whacking someone’s ass. Even more so when that said someone had committed a hate crime against a racial minority and got away with the trial, because that's the way it is in New York City.
The recurring metallic scent of fresh blood squirts in a jet of reddish color, thick and gleaming across your rigid, compact knuckles. The gruesome fragrance is no stranger to your sense of smell, and you're not quite sure whether you want it to be or not.
But it is what you are; as an inherent component of your biological chemistry (like the serum gushing through Steve's veins, altering him from inside out, or the magic pulsing within Wanda's core, changing the structure of her brainwaves), you know that hostility is a primeval part of your nature longer than the placid ends of an ordinary, quiet life.
The peaceable domestic life lived alongside Wanda is long gone, and desolation and wrath are your only roommates within the walls of your morbidly valueless apartment.
You've been living like a cornered animal for fifteen years in programmed mode, always exposing your fangs and your claws at any sign of danger, just self-destructing, dying little by little, not craving to exist for one more day after laying your head on the blandishments of your pillow and staring blankly at the ceiling, whirling through your usual drunken state. Just desiring to somehow wreck your imperishable body that can't be cut or torn by human hands or tools.
People much well-intentioned than you are long gone, and you, by some implausible probabilities, were (cursed) fortunate to have endured thorough all the catastrophes that life directed at you.
The car accident as a child. The blip as a mother and as a wife, as a friend.
The damn journey by the mountain of Vormir, in which three of you went in the grip of that appallingly isolated planet, and only two came back with a chest full of oxygen and life pumping through your nervures. The avid combat for proprietorship of all the six Infinity Stones, and the provenance of the final snap that brought back peace to the equilibrium of the universe by eliminating the existence of its greatest known threat at the time.
You just seem to live confined in this unbearable cycle of misfortune, and it's not fair to others that you are the person left to tell the story of those who are gone.
If only you could, you would swap places with the true heroes who gave their lives for the greater good. You would even be honored to do so yourself.
Your chest heaves and deflates severely within the molds of your leather jacket fitted around your shoulders over a short-sleeved plain shirt, your veins bulging with rushing blood, and you rise to your feet, setting up your knees, and step back to inspect the big man who lies defeated to the floor of the alley, amidst a pool of his own blood and filth typical of places like this — your jacket sleeve shimmering with bundles of fresh blood, a coat of gleaming sweat limping glistening on the beam of skin on your forehead, near your hairline.
He is still alive, groaning in a vital position, and is severely battered. And it was never your intention to kill anyone. He probably learned his lesson. Maybe you should break his legs, just in case.
A tremor rolls under your black sneaker feet as a loud motorcycle passes by in the distance. Sirens also pass presently afterwards, coming and going with their blue and red outcome.
But there, squeezed inside the claustrophobic walls of the dim alley, you are far from any possible intervention. You then register a single shake that travels along the outline of your left leg as your cellphone pulses inside the back pocket of your old jeans, shivering against your hip bone.
You take an elongated gulp of air before diving into your flickering pocket and hooking the device through your fuming, blooded finger length. You know your pupils are dilated and dark.
Your gaze is empty and brittle as you scrutinize between the digitally formed words before your motionless eyes.
Frequent bursts of oxygen are a method of neutralizing the pulses of adrenaline throbbing in the artery inside your neck. But the taste that slips between your teeth is acid and sour, and you lock your jawbone at the information that is cognitive to you.
Hey, Y/N. Are you really going to come get the boys tonight? I saw in the weather forecast that it will rain later, so I wanted to check with you just to make sure
(seen)
It’s Wanda
(seen)
By the way
(seen)
Yes, you know it's Wanda (your sweet Wanda, the trace of humanity lingering inside your icy chest), that she texted you. And it doesn't astonish you at all (not anymore), because not many people contact you lately during the sunny period of the day.
You two have been keeping in touch the last few days, after all, you told her that you wanted to be more present in the twins' lives. And it's not an untruth at all, but your sly creaking anxiety makes you feel like it's a kind of uncertainty inside your throbbing stomach walls.
Maybe it's not the right decision, the voice inside your head spoke. Maybe at this point in life they don't need you anymore. Maybe this is a breakthrough, or even the commencement of a calamity worthy of a Greek novel, you're not quite sure yet.
You turn on your heels and spin your back on the battered man, so you can send your reply to your ex-wife's number without looking at the ferocious outcome of your latent tantrum.
yup, your avid thumbs type along the digital keyboard provided on the screen of the small electronic device, i’ll be there in 1 hour or so. hope they like cheeseburgers.
And then you slide your upper teeth along the flesh of your lower lip, somewhat unsure of how to proceed.
try to enjoy your staycation btw. you deserve it
(seen)
:)
(seen)
You don't know why you sent her that stupid emoji.
It's not like you're a teenager reproducing a failed flirtation attempt with the girl you have a crush on anymore.
But a lapse of realism is present as your vision aims on the blood folds on your stinging fingers folded around the cellphone, and you feel a heavy ball of constricted lamentation taking shape in the back of your throat when your sorrowful eyes scrutinize thorough the lines of your hands and find there only odious signs of a cavernous viciousness (a raw, physical cruelty also reflected within the mirror of your shattered soul).
In the background, the man is still groaning in pain. And you're not sorry you broke him in a beating. No, no. You're just sorry for yourself, because you didn't bat an eye when you did it.
Vaguely the memory of Wanda placing chaste kisses along your hands invades you, and you realize you wouldn't want her to kiss your unseemly fingers right now (because you find her too pure to dwell on the filthiness of your touch).
The skin on your hands abruptly itches and feels dull, and you don't feel like having those plagued fingers around your children’s immaculate faces anymore.
ᗢ
The twilight of dusk breaks with the trepidation of an ingrained thunder, which rumbles all in a glow of white light that splits along the longitudinal path that comprised the pleasant suburb that is Westview.
So, this is an opaque afternoon resulting from the middle of the rainy day, gray and hazy in its chilly essence, with tenuous threads of a torrential drizzle protecting the foundations of the two-story house on the slopes of the street, making the dewy ivy rustle on its ground, dripping slowly from the eaves of the ceramic tiles.
Standing on the porch of Wanda's house, you ponder that you should have listened to the weather forecast when it was said that during the afternoon there would be a period of rain. Your dark hoodie is really soaked through and your hair, pulled back in a high half ponytail, is damp against the skin of your own forehead. You feel kind of stupid.
Compact, opulent, slate-colored clouds were uneven against the emerald green of the panorama of howling houses, hills and trees, like the leaning of thick smoke from a desolate fire.
A fierce storm, nevertheless, is not anomalous in the face of the oscillating spring climate of the state of New Jersey, which is not a real stranger to the rainy weather of the season. Thus, the nonstop drizzle is not the atypical episode of the day altogether.
The conquering event of such a rank happens when Wanda opens the door and finds you there, standing with your elbows dripping cold droplets water in the light wood entrance, and then pulls you into the cozy embrace of the pleasant climate established within that domestic environment of her own home.
“For God’s sake, Y/N, you're soaking wet!”
She reiterates, surveying you with an apprehensive gaze that runs the length of your head to toe, her slender ringless fingers still pressed worriedly around the outline of your right forearm tucked beneath the humid fabric of your damp blouse – but Wanda doesn't seem to realize as she's still carries with the action, and you kind of don't want her to let go of you anytime soon, so you say nothing about the warm touch tingling on your cold skin.
“Yeah, the rain started when I was halfway there and there was no way for me to avoid it, so I just went with it” you mutter, with a certain lack of interest smoldering in your quiet voice “Sometimes I wish I still had a car...”
“But you didn't bring an umbrella?” Her gaze is accusatory in your direction, the tone of voice sounding dangerously concerned inside your ears.
“Well” you kind of sigh, shrugging your shoulders within your hoodie, without looking her straight in the eye “You see, I, hah… I didn’t think it was actually going to… you know… to rain”
And then you look at her, and the exact facial expression you'd expect to find there makes its way until it slides all over her face. She’s pissed off.
“But I told you it was going to rain!” she then frowns at you, looking a little exasperated while doing it, her beautiful features drenched in an irritated tone of incredulity “Seriously Y/N, you need to listen to what I say more! What if you get sick?”
You flick an eyelid at the grumpy figure of a very upset Wanda standing right in front of you, exhaling aromas of tea and crimson color. It's funny how the pique of nostalgia slips through your bones – there is an air of familiarity when a subtle sense of déjà vu settles into your cognitive system, like the feeling of coming home after a long trip. You feel at home. You feel belonging.
This image is very cherished to your spirit, and you can't help but to articulate a small grin that feels light in your heart in front of your ex-wife, who then aims towards your gaze with a gleam that is an assortment of misunderstanding and irritability flickering in the greenish irises, the color that look like two emerald stones embedded within her eyeballs, curving a single one of her sharp dark eyebrows in an high arching cut.
You feel married to her again for half a fraction of a second – it's like your remote newlywed routine all over again. And the feeling is actually good.
She looks so pretty. It's like you could kiss her lips right there.
“What? What's so funny?”
Wanda questions you in an almost petulant way, and you let out a pleasant chuckle as she tilts her head slightly to the side of her right elbow, her chin pointing toward the tip of your nose – her typical irritating movement as the harbinger of an angry reaction to anything that troubles her spirit.
“You know I'm physically incapable of getting sick, don't you?” you declare, still with a smile carved along the outline of your own lips, and Wanda crosses her forearms close to her chest in an even vaguely embarrassed way in front of you.
She was always a stubborn bratty type anyways.
“It's that super durability mutant thing or some shit like that. At least that's what Banner told me once, and he's a smart guy, so I believe him” you casually shrug, “I haven't had a cold since I was, like, thirteen. Shit, I don't even know if I remember what it's like anymore. You don't have to worry about me, Wanda"
“W-well,” she exasperated in a timidly cute way, even a little childish in essence, pressing her open palms against the sides of her hips well-guarded by a pair of pale mom jeans – the attire so far from the miniskirts and chains and torn clothes she used to wear when she was younger, at the apex of her mean girl phase.
Today isn't the first time you've noticed that her waist got wider as a result of the prudent ripening endowments of late adulthood blossoming into her beautiful body-type. It suits her well. You want to touch her skin through the fabric of those flimsy jeans and the thin white cotton blouse; your fingers itch to do it.
“Just because you don't get sick like other people it doesn’t mean you can walk around in the rain whenever you feel like it. You look like a wet dog right now, you know”
“Alright, alright, I get it” you raise both your hands to shoulder height in a placid gesture of surrender “No more walks in the rain”
“You're impossible, Y/N” she then rolls her green eyes into their sockets, but you just smirk jokily at her reaction.
It only takes a nonchalant magical flutter of Wanda's wrist, with her right five fingers all enveloped in a fading mist of crimson steam, for the well-versed witch to make your garments still swell on your body, expelling from the bristles of fabric, as even in a chemical separation reaction, the water molecules that soaked them in the first place.
It's like a huge hair dryer blowing hot air the entire length of your body and then unexpectedly stopping as if pulled from the socket, making your skin temperature pleasant again like a sunny embrace all around your body.
You find yourself dry in a matter of seconds, from your socks to your underwear, thanks to her remarkable magical gifts.
The tingles consequential from the scarlet mist touching your skin still slither down the length of your body. It is familiar and eccentrically comforting – it's like eating again a candy that you used to eat during the preludes of your childhood; tastes like home and happiness.
“You know what, your powers come in handy sometimes, I’ll give you that” you say in a mocking tone of voice, and she raises a single eyebrow in response.
"I'm still considering throwing you out for dripping water on my carpet, just so you know"
Wanda just casts a weary glance in your direction, but there's a slight lighthearted tone that resides in the green outline of her graceful irises, as if an inside joke has taken hold between you two.
She smiles, and so do you, because you feel comfortable while doing it – a pair of complicit grins from someone whose chest is filled of joy and fullness. The atmosphere that sets in is comfortable, and you feel more relaxed being close to her.
You don't really do it, but it feels like your fingers are entwined with the fingers of her own hand – the specter of touch is written between the two of you, and it's as if your soul can really feel hers at its core, like two magnets that can't stop attracting each other instantaneously. You've always gravitated towards Wanda's overwhelming presence, and things won't be any different now.
“Come on, the boys are watching cartoons in the living room” Wanda says, then turning her back on you so that you follow her lead to the intimates of the house, “You can stay until the rain stops”
You follow after your ex-wife without further circumlocution, the two of you passing through the small and comfy entrance hall as you go after Wanda into the large rectangular living room, your hands always tucked inside the single pocket of your hoodie as you accompany her with phlegmatic steps in your essence.
Your shoulders feel even lighter as she turns to you and casually offers you the sweetest smile you've ever seen in your life.
Torrential rain is still pouring down from the sky outside the house, and the boys Billy and Tommy can be seen wearing warm, comfortable clothes, both the twins snuggled up against the back of the gray linen sofa, their little smart eyes looking smilingly at each other’s faces and not towards the television screen, where some cartoon that seems unfamiliar to you is shown.
They seem to share some secret that only two people with some primal connection as to what unites them would be able to do it, but the sounds of banter irrigated in the air of childish shenanigans reveals the mockery between their giggles.
They are brothers and they are twins, yes, two parts of a whole, born of the same womb that they shared from the beginning of their existence as two living beings, but you were always a little happier to realize the closeness established in the friendship between your children. Billy and Tommy are each other's best friends.
The pair then seem to make themselves aware of the presence of their two mothers as they enter the room, and the smiles of both children scintillate in enthusiasm as the pairs of eyes look up and acknowledge your appearance a little further behind Wanda's still figure, following her very closely, ceasing the small section of chitchats they had between the two of them.
"Mom!"
"Mommy!"
From the sofa the boys joyfully call out to you, beaming in your direction. You can't help but do the same to them.
“Hey, my demons spawn. What are you up to there, huh?”
“We were preparing something! Okay, so, mom,” Billy speaks in response, barely seeming to be able to contain the glee of excitement inside his tiny body.
"Listen to this-!" Tommy complements his brother's phrase, in a tone of enthusiastic anticipation.
"Hey, I want to start it!" but the other twin intervenes promptly, almost indignantly.
Tommy frowns, turning up his freckled little nose towards a rather annoyed Billy, who is sitting next to his left elbow. The little boy briefly tilts his head to the left side towards his brother, and you know you've seen similar action in Wanda's characteristic mannerisms.
“No, I want to start it!”
"I want to start it!"
“But I want to start it!”
“I want to start it!”
“Why don't you both” Wanda then promptly interferes with the small disagreement between the boys, increasing her mother's reproachful tone of voice a little, preventing, at the beginning, that the intrigue takes a somewhat bigger proportions “Start it together?”
“Yeah” you support her in a complacent tone of voice “You two came up with the idea together, so the right thing would be to do it together too. Whatever it is, I mean”
"Okay"
"Okay..."
The two of them mutter almost in almost defeated tune, fidgeting together on the couch. You think that they look cute while they're there, tiny and sitting like two baby rabbits.
"You ready?" Billy questions in a low voice, turning to the brother beside him.
“Yeah” Tommy mussed back, nodding in agreement.
“Okay,” says Billy then, almost proudly, “Three, two, one, go”
And then, you can barely contain a smirk when the boys, in different and discrepant voice tones, begin a silly chant in their thin children's voices. In the corner of your peripheral vision, you notice that Wanda also lets out an amorous smile, melting into a comfortable puddle of kindness, dying in love with her two singing little children sitting across from the two of you.
“We like ice cream like any child should” they hum together, vocalizing playful tones as they proceed through the song's component words, “And if we get some ice cream, we pro-mise to be… good!”
Then they look towards the two of you, displaying expectant smiles written all over their childish faces. And you and Wanda exchange glances, and the smile she offers you is very similar to the one that graces the curve of Billy's lips.
"Nice try, smarty-pants, but you haven't even had dinner yet"
“But mama” Tommy replies in a pleading tone of voice “We really want ice cream!”
“Yes, we want ice cream!” exclaims Billy in agreement "We can't wait!"
“Well, we can have dinner first, then ice cream. What do you guys think?" you offer them, your eyes darting towards Wanda's face "But you need to have dinner first to grow to be strong and healthy, and ice cream is for dessert only. Right, mama?"
Wanda looks in your direction, and then smiles. And you smile back, because the situation is prone to do so. You, for the first time in so long, feel welcomed and hassle-free in the presence of others.
The air inside the house is blissful and warm, so unlike your empty, disdainful apartment forgotten somewhere on the West Side of Midtown Manhattan. Wanda doesn't feel like your ex-wife right now – at least, that's not how she looks at you.
“Right” her eyes flash pale green beams towards you “Let's have dinner first, mommy”
ᗢ
You wake up in the middle of the night, but maybe you just haven't fallen asleep at all.
The sheets that grace the bottom of your body are soft and comfortable, and the pajama set you wear is not your property. It's late in the course of the long night, and like so many that have passed before this one, you just know you wouldn't be able to rest your relaxation anytime soon.
How could you even do it? Perhaps you stayed longer than you realized detailing the gloomy ceiling of Wanda's guest room, counting in your mind as you scrutinized every passing second so that you still had control over something (time being something), so that you wouldn't go mad at being dismembered alive by each of your own inner demons.
If the beginning of the night was watered in jubilation and a serene comforting coziness on your part, the firstfruits of the dawn soon came to frustrate you in the form of intrusive thoughts quite harmful to your twisted mental health.
The torrential rain didn't stop anytime soon, and after having dinner with Wanda and the boys (in a very warm congregation, you were sitting at the table with your family, eating the same food as them and breathing the same oxygen, always supported by grins of pleasure as you chatted eagerly with each other), and the twins were slow to fall asleep after two generous mugs of chocolate mint ice cream each.
Your ex-wife insisted that you stay for the night after the two of you carried them upstairs and deposited them in their respective tidy beds, showering each of them with chaste kisses to the tops of their childish heads – Wanda's little staycation was long-forgotten by then.
You let out a disturbed sigh, both palms of your hands polishing the length of the dull face of yours.
What the fuck, you think, what the fuck are you doing there? This may even be your family, but this is not your house. It's not your home. Not anymore.
Reverberating through your insides you find the throttling need for a drag of a cigarette eating away at the bottom of your lungs like a harmful parasite sucking the life from its source, and then you get up to do it, because lying down feels like it consumes you from within in a profuse haze of bubbling anxiety that bursts from your stomach to your mouth, making you feel so weak inside.
It has always struck you as a somewhat ironic cynicism on the part of the universe that you, who are possessed of an impenetrable shell on the outside, suffer so much from the brittle fragility of your own interior – hard skin does nothing to protect a broken mind.
The lavender bedclothes had begun to tighten the muscle in your neck after a while, and in the room just down the hall, you assume Wanda sleeps comfortably cuddling in her bed.
When searching inside the single pocket of your hoodie, the well-folded garment on top of a plain desk in the corner of the room, soaked in the darkness of the shadowy environment, the absconse pack of cigarettes from a brand that you are quite familiar with, that keeps you company in the acrimonious moments of solitude, you take a single cylindrical unit towards the spaces open to your drooping mouth and then you find the cold lighter with your fingertips, leaving for the entrance door of the room offered to you by your ex-wife.
After descending the stairs, stepping one step at a time with your bare feet, you are surprised that the door leading to the backyard is already open before you are even there, and the cold night wind has blown inside the house like a curious, invisible animal, installing an icy feeling of dysphoria within the broad walls.
But before you could search with your watchful eye for some intruder who went beyond the icy specter of the night, in avid state of alert, you notice an apollonian silhouette hunched outside, sitting on the step outside the door, with a long waterfall of soft hair in the color of a raven's down running halfway down her spine.
The restlessness that weighed heavily on your shoulders eased as the familiar full-bodied scent of hibiscus tea mixed with the sweetness of a mild strawberry shampoo slithered into your nostrils and filled your lungs thirsty for smoke and tobacco.
As you approach, you see that Wanda, wearing a sheer silk robe over a red nightgown, is accompanied by a large cup that exhales small clouds of steam, with the tiny bundle that carries the tea herbs submerged into the hot water inside the dark container.
"You really have loud thoughts" Wanda's small, soft voice ripples through the air and then hugs your body as your ex-wife turns toward you with a lingering slowness that, to you, is as familiar as the taste of your unsmoked cigarette.
Her eyes glow an intoxicating green hue amid the darkness of the night, only supported by the silver light of the moonlight coming from outside the residence.
You feel like a frog being studied on a silver platter in some high school biology class.
Wanda's diligent gaze always seemed to be able to penetrate through the cracks of your soul – she always understood you as if she were an expert when dealing with any subject concerning you.
You let out an uneasy sigh, oddly scratching the inside of your throat as you do.
"Sorry if I woke you up, it wasn't... it wasn't my... intention"
“It’s okay” she mumbles serenely over a sip of hot tea, the pulp of her nacarine lips being moistened by the hot liquid she's ingested.
“I still haven't been able to sleep anyway”
And it's no surprise to you, because you slept and woke up next to this woman for several of the component years of your life span, and it was always well known to you that Wanda is a woman quite affected by long sleepless nights, not being able to afford to actually close her eyes and be fortunate enough to have a good night's sleep.
Countless were the nights turned to morning dawns, when you both resided under the same roof in the compound back at the Avengers Tower, so many years before you were there, standing in the middle of her kitchen, silently watching her perform the simple act of drinking tea at her backyard door.
“Still having trouble sleeping?”
“Once in a while”
Wanda answers you, and with her eyes she indicates the empty space next to her right elbow so you can sit there.
“Sometimes I need to relearn how to sleep all by myself”
Without saying a word, you cross the entire length of the kitchen, passing by the island and the marble sink, to be seated on the marble step that freezes your warm skin, next to the woman who smells of hibiscus with strawberries and deep scarlet tones.
Her eyes recognize the figure of the unsmoked cigarette between your fingers, unlit and forgotten like the insignificant little rolled-up tobacco paper that it is, and then she looks toward the profile of your silhouette, blinking once with her thick eyelashes as she does so.
“You start smoking again?”
“Yeah, it's been a while, actually. Not that I'm proud of it”
Your gaze shifts to the small cylinder, turning it between the digits of your index and middle fingers of your tender right hand.
“That shit helps me calm down, I guess. Or at least I like to think so. I don’t know"
Silence touches both of you shoulders, and there is a moment for Wanda to sip more of the tea that has spilled into her cup. When the drink is gone, then all the way into her stomach, she places the container on the floor, close to her left ankle like a tame kitten, safe from her company.
You are still hesitating in the uncertainty of whether or not to light up that damned tempting cigarette.
“Earlier today,” she begins, immediately drawing your attention to her pretty face, and you're met with her pink lip as she clamps her upper teeth over the contour of her wet mouth.
“You and me and the boys... it was good. They like having you around. And I... I like it too, Y/N”
She hums in the sigh of the night. You feel a crackling feeling swelling inside your swollen chest, but you don't say anything in sequence, because it's Wanda who continues to converse in the silver moonlight.
“I had forgotten what it was like. Me and you acting like family. It's good, It’s… really good"
You choke relatively. For Wanda, a heartbeat rumbled in her ears. And then she looks at you, and you look at her.
And suddenly, you don't want to light that cigarette anymore – because she leans her chin forward, leaning her head towards you, and you do the same when your body cries out for her, lips colliding in midair like the consolidation of a wish, a scarlet fever supernova bursting within your own chest.
And then, the full-bodied freshness of hibiscus darts into the half-open breach in the gap between your lips, pressing a velvety tongue against the slit between your teeth, discharging into your mouth a red-sour-sweet flavor, definitely good though, but rougher than usual as the two of you now share a needy, somewhat sloppy, even animalistic kiss.
Even if there is indeed a need on Wanda's part, and you just need someone to scare you away from the evil inside your head.
Your ex-wife, in a thoughtless act, dives with her clever hands into the thin fabric of the tank top that clothes your impenetrable skin, grabbing the sides of your waist in a needy way, as if all she wanted at that moment was to feel you, as if her entire existence existed based on physically feeling you snuggled into her icy body.
She blinks, consenting to the overflow of her feelings, enraptured by the image of your cheeks burning and your chest heaving.
And she does what she thinks is right to do, which seems to be the only option possible in this small moment of affection and dedication, filled with an ember that if she could name it, she would call it love - because she knows she love you, even if she didn't say it out loud yet.
You are the love of her life, and she is the love of yours.
Wanda then hurls herself even farther forward, a nymph figure smitten with idolatry, and takes her prize, pressing the commission of her red lips against the outlined mouth with the flavor of melancholy that could belong to none other than you, so exotic, and never the same.
You feel the smart hands rest at the end of your spine with an almost practiced disregard, seeking nothing but feeling at first, far from the lascivious idea of consolidating the carnal act. Wanda just wants to feel you close, all to herself, comfortable in her grip.
Between a set of pink lips, a tongue is present, and this tongue curls up in another in a not hasty and exaggerated way. It's elegant. It's careful. It is harmonious.
But a slow kiss unravels, and Wanda holds her breath and returns in search of more of her favorite flavor to keep in her mouth, only to be promptly reciprocated by a devoted you, a soft nostalgic familiarity edging your silhouettes connected by the lips beneath a star-studded sky, with an absorbed perfection that no one else but the two of you would be able to achieve.
Up and down, side and side; surrounded by genuine attunement, lips moved carefully, following an invisible line that dictates your not so reckless actions.
A waltz of delicate, tangible lips that still fit together so perfectly, so neatly, that you might as well cry.
But the pacified kiss soon takes the form of a fervent kiss as you pant hot against your ex-wife's lips, and the fervent kiss becomes little kisses sprinkled around her neck that soon dissolve into a hollow moan, into a world where there didn't seem to be any more worries as long as you were in each other's arms.
In her own time, Wanda drags her teeth along the lower lip of your mouth, which groans deeply in response with a tingling in your throat, a tiny fraction of time passing until, like a buzz, quick, rough lips take refuge again in a tongue inside your mouth, and you feel an icy hand grasp your breast in a primitive way.
Clever fingers, soaked in crimson, traveled to your scalp, and a light mouth caresses yet another moan of yours. In a heartbeat, Wanda swings a leg over your knees and sits right on top of your lap, grabbing your wrists to put your hands around her waist.
The feeling is familiar. Toxically familiar.
It is the red invading your senses, intoxicating you with dense doses of scarlet.
You know very well that, even before the enticements of alcohol and cigarettes, your primary vice has always been the crimson sweetness of Wanda's body.
And, well… you're not known for being resistant to the temptations of your addictions.
ᗢ
A crimson marble glow glistening under the palms of both your hands. Sweat glistened in the hollow of your groin across your burning hips.
Wanda riding on your lap, naked as a Renaissance painting displayed in the dim light of a museum, her chest heavy like a marathon runner. The long, thick length of the red strap brushed against a specific spot on her inner walls that made her delirious and increasingly pivot her hips toward you, seeking more, brushing against each other like two animals in heat.
There was nothing rational in that animalistic act.
The symphony in the room was that of skin beating wet against skin; of her lascivious wetness voraciously swallowing your cock.
You could see it from the single, retracted drop of sweat that poured into the valley between her own swollen breasts, the two mounds swaying just before your lascivious eyes; a delight modulated to your stormy gaze, profuse as sea water, which clouded your young girlfriend's body with a predatory look, immersed in illicit labor.
Your insides tingled in a white-hot tingle, both clits sliding through the material of the strap, the insides of your thighs strong and wet against Wanda's pulsing center.
Her tight pussy pressing against the erect silicone phallus between your legs, the red of the material buffed with the sticky juices from inside of her. That was her bed, her sheets wet beneath your sweaty bodies, the walls of her room reverberating the pornographic grunts and moans from deep in her throat.
“F-fuck-!” she clenched her teeth, her nails lacquered with black nail polish carving red paths in the muscles of your back, “Y/N, fuck, right there, ah-!”
Her thick Sokovian accent spilled into your ears, and something primal and cavernous rumbled inside you, like a spark that explodes in a raging fire.
You wanted to own her.
You wanted to consume her.
You wanted to eat her alive; fuck her until the mold of your strap was forever etched into the walls of her greedy cunt, which was increasingly squeezing the silicone phallus, a delicious pressure forming a red knot just below her belly button.
“Ah-! Ah-!, pozhaluysta, pozhaluysta-!” she gasped in her native dialect, loud and clear against your ear as you fucked her as hard as possible “Trakhni menya... ya pochti u tseli, ya po-pochti u tseli... Ugh, dorogaya!”
“Fuck, are you close?”
“U-uhum! ” she kind of moaned, both eyes squinted two lewd lines “Please don't stop, don't stop Y/N, ah-!”
The scream was loud as you dropped her suddenly onto the sheets, her sweaty back slamming against the thick material of the mattress, her dark hair spilling across the pale material of the pillow.
You slipped your hands between the folds of both her knees and brought her lower back close, barely giving her time to miss your strap inside her dripping cunt before guiding the red material between her sticky folds, resuming the vigorous action of fucking your way against her coccyx.
Your strong hand pressed itself (as did the bone of your jaw) against the upholstered headboard, and there a rip was deferred by your own touch – as it had done to a plucked pillow, and a lampshade shattered to the ground.
The lamp above your heads flashed white. Wanda's eyes glowed a profuse scarlet that swallowed the moss green of her irises, the darkening of her dilated pupils making her eyes look like two bottomless wells of lust.
You buried your face against the beam of sweaty skin that joined her neck to her collarbone, and placed a generous, savage bite there.
"Fuck- I’m cumming, I'm cumming!" she decreed, panting against your bare neck, pressing her fingers against your buttocks in an incitement to the act they so indomitably committed.
“Cum for me Wanda” you murmured against her ear “Cum on my cock, pretty girl”
The bed hit the wall again. And again. And again.
You didn't stop at the first orgasm. Nor in the second. Nor on the third.
《《《《《《《ᱬ》》》》》》》
#wanda x y/n#wanda maximoff x you#wanda x you#wanda maximoff#wanda reader#wanda maximoff imagine#billy maximoff#tommy maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x y/n#wanda x reader#scarlet witch#scarlet witch x reader#scarlet witch imagine#scarlet witch x you#bottom wanda maximoff#bottom!wanda#bottom!wanda maximoff x you#bottom scarlet witch#elizabeth olsen#elizabeth olsen x reader
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Hi!! May I please request a Charles Xavier x fem!Reader arranged marriage Regency AU (still have mutant powers tho; Charles still has his telepathy, Reader has levitation) where they had been childhood friends prior to the arranged marriage being finalized? (I’m watching period dramas rn so yeah.)
Marrying a Professor
Running through Charles's house he chases after me laughing since I stole his pillow from his bed. Sliding down the stairs closing my eyes I levitate above him making him cross his arms over his chest. "Real macrure Y/n." I stick my tongue out mocking him. "Said the Telepath." The office door opens and I screamed dropping down seeing my mother and Charles father. "Sweetheart we need to talk to you, both of you." Charles and I looked to each other then followed them inside.
"So what is this about, father?" Charles asked as she unrolled a document with both our names on it. Scanning it I saw the words marriage flickering my gaze up to my mother mumbling. "You can't be serious, marriage mother." She interviewed her hands together in front of her starting to explain. "Honey I know that you want to find love in your own time but I'm not going to be around forever." Charles runs a hand his hair sighing heavily at his father's decision. "So we're to marry just like that?" His father simply nodded yes.
Flash forward to the wedding I'm still not happy about it. Granted it's nothing against Charles he's been my best friend since I was little. But I want to choose the man I'll marry. The wedding was quick leading to our first dance between us. Charles interviewed our hands with our other resting softly spinning around the room. "I'm sorry this isn't what you want Y/n." He spoke never taking his blue eyes away from my gaze. "It's not your fault, Charles....I just..." He simply nodded understanding what I was about to say. He twirled me out and back into his chest his legs stumbling a little since he's slightly nervous to embarrass the both of us, even though he's always been a better dancer than me.
"I want to promise you something..." He trailed off as my feet moving make my dress sway a little. "What kind of promise?" I asked raising a brow at him. He spins me out once more twirling me under his arm and back in. "I know we don't like the arrangement but I promise to be a good husband for you. Someone who shall treat you as their equal." He twirled me again and this time dips me down where I'm staring up at him with a smile. "You know something Charles. Maybe just maybe our parents knew we would be good together." He pulls me back up smiling too before slowly leaning forward kissing me. I kissed back wrapping my arms around his neck hearing people clap. Things might not be as bad as I thought with arranged marriages.
Comments really appreciated 🥰
Tags - @makeshift-prime @rosie-posie08
#charles xavier#charles xavier x reader#x men charles xavier x reader#charles xavier imagine#x - men#arranged marriage#ask box is open for anything#comments really appreciated
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Obey me characters with an MC who does reckless things because they're afraid of being a burden.
Self indulgent, comfort, angst Less headcannons, more drabbles.
First, in a group chat without MC: House of Lamentation (7) Satan: I just found MC in the kitchen, trying to open a can with a chef knife. Mammon: WHAT Mammon: Why would they wanna do something like that?? Asmo: (Wide eyed emoji) Belphie: Yea, that's stupid even for Mammon Mammon: HEY! Satan: They couldn't find the can opener, and they said they didn't want to bother anyone. Levi: That's actually kind of cute. Levi: It's just like the main character of this anime I just started watching who acts really tough and independent, but deep down is afraid to ask for help and just wants to be loved! Satan: That's not all Lucifer: it's not? Satan: Solomon saw MC yesterday climbing the bookshelves in the RAD library. Satan: Apparently they'd reached the sixth shelf before he could levitate them and the book they needed back to the ground. Beel: Are all humans like this? Lucifer: No. It seems we've found a particularly troublesome one. Levi: Actually I saw them do something similar earlier this week. Asmo: Oh no. Asmo: I bet Mammon's having a heart attack rn Mammon: (sweaty nervous emoji) Levi: They were standing on the counter trying to reach something on the top of the cabinets waaaay in the back. Belphie: That's not that bad Levi: They were also standing on an upside down pot because they were still too short. Levi: and they were wearing heels. Lucifer: Everyone, make sure to keep an eye on MC as often as possible
Lucifer
Sighs out loud reading the group chat
"And here I thought I would just have to protect MC from demon attacks"
He decides to have a talk with you once he gets a little time, and not just about safety. He has a whole lecture planned out about climbing the book cases at RAD.
Unfortunately he's swamped with paperwork and bills to go through, so he doesn't have the chance to talk to you right away.
The next day, however, you're all invited to the Demon Lord's Castle for another overnight retreat, or event of some sort.
Everyone is having fun and causing a ruckus, as usual, and at some point during the evening the group loses you.
You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, but the palace is so huge you get lost even with directions. At a certain point you know you can find your way back and ask for help, but you can't bring yourself to, and decide to press on to try to find it yourself.
Eventually you find yourself standing in front of an ornate mirror with no reflection. You stop and ponder it for a moment, and as you're about to step away you hear a whisper. You can't make out what it says, but it compels you to step closer. In a corner of the reflected room you notice what looks like a puppet made of bone, with blackened eyes.
"~MC~..." An ethereal whisper, "...c...l...oser..." and in a blink of your eye it's closer to you, and you've stepped closer without realizing it.
Your heart is racing, but you can't stop yourself from reaching out to the mirror. Is it really a mirror...? Another blink and the bone puppet is closer. It tilts it's head at you, and outstretches an arm.
You try to pull back, but realize you can't, you're now mirroring the actions of the puppet as it steps closer, and closer.
Suddenly your vision goes black and you're pulled backwards by the waist, away from the mirror.
After a moment, Lucifer removes his gloved hand from over your eyes, and spins you to face him. He looks worried, frightened almost, but soon regains his composure.
"I thought you were going to the bathroom, MC" He says
It takes you a second to form words again, "I... I was.... I got lost" You had to really think hard about it for a moment.
Lucifer sighs, "You know the castle can be dangerous. If you weren't sure where to go, why not ask someone to show you?"
You were feeling particularly vulnerable after what had just happened, and so decided to be deeply honest, "I'm afraid of being a burden..." you mumble.
He's surprised by the admission, but pulls you close.
"Of all the burdens I've had to shoulder in this life, I promise that you are not one of them, MC" He whispers into your hair as he kisses the top of your head.
Mammon
Immediately goes to find you after he finishes reading the group chat.
He finds you doing something dangerous with a knife again, and grabs your wrist to stop you.
"Oi, human!" He only calls you that when he's angry, which is rare, "What do ya think yer doin'?"
"I'm just-" he cuts you off
"I don' wanna hear it!"
"Then why did you ask?" you're stare at him. Mammon's face reddens and he realizes he's still holding your wrist, so he gently takes the knife out of your hand and sets it down.
"I mean- What's goin' on with ya lately? Everyone says yer doin' a buncha dangerous stuff!" He put his hands on his hips and only resumes eye contact as he finishes his sentence.
"What do you-?"
"Like climbin' bookshelves, and whatever this is-!" He gestures to the knife and you look away. You're silent for a while; too long for Mammon to take, "C'mon, MC, talk to me" His voice finally softens, arms dropping to his sides. You finally meet his eyes, and the look of concern on his face is heartbreaking.
"I like doing things myself..." you can tell he's not buying it, "I... I just don't want to be a burden..." You admit quietly, voice wavering somewhat.
His eyes go wide, "...MC..." he says softly. Mammon pulls you in for a tight hug, one arm wrapping around your shoulders, and the other hand resting on the back of your head, and holds you like he'd do anything in the world to protect you, which he would.
"Listen up, 'cuz Mammon's gonna give you some free advice" you hear a sniffle, and realize he's crying.
His human was hurting like this, and he never even noticed. What kinda demon am I? He thought, but he knew this wasn't about him right now, so he held you tighter.
"You will never be a burden to me...Ya got that?"
Leviathan
Thinks its pretty adorable that you actually seem to be a little tsundere.
Because of this, and his social anxiety, he doesn't confront you about it right away. Not until the jellyfish incident anyway.
One night you're hanging out with Levi in his room, when you notice that one of his jelly fish decorations had fallen to the ground. So, you decide to string it back up for him.
You looked around, Levi absorbed in his game, and tried to judge the distance between the edge of the bed-tub and the ceiling. That should do it! you think, and climb the edge of the bed-tub. The edge was difficult to balance on, but you knew you'd be careful, and you could almost reach.
Levi turned around just in time to see you, arms stretched too far over your head and on your tip toes on the edge of the tub, and watched as you lose balance completely. He saw it, you were going to fall backwards toward the other side of the tub and crack your head!
Now, he may not be as fast as Mammon, but he is still a demon after all, and just as you felt the jolt of the fall as your foot slipped, you felt arms around your middle, pulling you forcefully forward.
Leviathan had jumped to your rescue, unconsciously changing into his demon form, discarding his controller unceremoniously to the floor, and in his panic underestimated his own strength.
The two of you ended up both landing on the floor, you on top of a very red Leviathan.
"Wh-wh-what were you doing normie?! You were about to fall and crack your skull on the tub!"
You guiltily hold up the jellyfish, "I was just trying to fix it"
"Well get a ladder next time!" It's taking everything in Levi to ignore the position your both in, because its' just like that time in- nevermind, this is more important.
"All you had to do was say something! I was sitting right there!" He still hasn't let you go. He sees the look on your face change into something he can't quite get a read on, but whatever it is, is also full of sadness. "You could have died just then, MC. Why wouldn't you just ask for some help?" His voice is softer, "I was right there" and softer still, almost desperate.
"I..." He could tell whatever you were about to say was difficult for you, "I'm just so afraid of being a burden"
He's heartbroken, "You're my best friend, my player two, my Henry th-the- the person I love" He goes red again and quickly continues as if to bury the words beneath more words, "You're a lot of things, MC, but you're not a burden"
Asmodeous
Worrying is bad for the skin. Worrying is bad for the skin. Worrying is bad for the skin. But he can't help it.
One night you get home particularly late, and none of the brothers have seen you. They were about to send out a search party when you finally came home.
When he finds out you walked home alone again, and were so late because you got lost, that's when he finally decides to confront you.
"You walked home alone again? And took WHICH street?! MC don't you know how dangerous it is for a human in the Devildom, especially one with no real magical powers? Not to mention in that area!"
How were you supposed to know? You were lost. He knows these things, but doesn't give you a chance to point them out.
"Beel saw you leave right after classes. If you were so lost why didn't you call one of us?" he asks. The worry and exasperation is plain in his voice.
"I..." you start, "I didn't want to bother anyone that's all" but he can tell there's more to it than that.
"Why are you so worried about bothering us? Don't you know we care about you?" He asks, concern slowly turning to sadness.
"I just don't want to be a burden..."
His eyes go wider than before, which you didn't think was possible. "What in the three realms would give you the idea that you're a burden? MC, you're so precious to me, and if anything were to ever happen, I-"
He begins welling up with tears and pulls you into a tight hug.
"MC, I was worried sick. We all were. Please... Come to me when you need help... I love you"
Satan
He walked in and found you trying to use a chef knife to open a can, brought you the can opener, and ultimately left; not entirely sure what to make of the situation yet.
The next time he saw you, you were climbing on top of an unsteady looking stack of books to reach something in the House's library.
Were those one of his stacks? Had you stacked them yourself? It didn't matter. What mattered was that the books all began slipping out from under you.
He rushed over, and caught you with ease as you fell, but your momentum ended up knocking you both to the ground.
He sighs, "What am I going to do with you?"
"Sorry, " you let out an embarrassed laugh, "Are you okay?"
"Yea, and you?" he asks. You nod, and he helps you up. To his confusion you immediately begin stacking the books back up.
"What do you think you're doing?" He asks, suspicious. It looks like you're about to try to climb the stack again.
"There's a book I need" He was right.
This must be how Lucifer feels. He sighs again, and grabs your hand to stop you.
"You can't keep doing stuff like this, MC. It's dangerous" He looks serious, but his cheeks are a little pink, "I'm worried about you. Why won't you ask for help?"
"I..." You start, but hesitate, averting your eyes.
"Tell me the truth, MC" Satan almost pleads, a sad look in his eyes.
"I don't want to be a burden... that's all..." You say, so quietly it's almost a sigh.
Suddenly it all made sense; the way you tried to hide when you were upset, how you always carried just a little too much, the way you always offered to help, even if there was little work to do... Why hadn't he put the pieces together before now?
"Then, I need you to do something for me" He says, after thinking a moment. He steps closer, "I need you to start asking for help,"
He pulls you close, and hugs you tightly, "I know it'll be difficult, but that's why I'll always be there for you"
He pulls away slightly, still holding you, to look into your eyes. His face is very red now, "I'll do whatever it takes to show you that you're not a burden," Kindness and determination burn in his eyes as he leans in for a kiss.
Beelzebub
He was walking down the hall when he spots you down at the other end near an open window.
The wind blew something out of your hand, so you leaned out the window to try to grab it. This is when Beel got worried, his instincts kicked in and he picked up his pace.
Your homework got caught by the wind, but stopped by some of the vines clinging to the House of Lamentation, so you leaned out the window but it was just out of reach. You knew you could get it if you could reach just a little further, so you lean out a little more... Just a little more...
Unfortunately that's when you lost balance, and felt yourself tip forward. You'd be out the window in no time flat, and then you'd be flattened on the ground.
Thankfully Beel was able to grab you by the waist and hoist you back inside to safety.
You thank him, and explain the situation but he still looks confused.
"Why wouldn't you just come get one of us? We could've easily gotten it down for you" he asks.
"I thought I'd be able to reach" you try, with an embarrassed and unconvincing smile.
"Tell me the truth, MC. Why are you so afraid to ask for help?"
"I don't want to be a burden..." You say softly, sadness written plainly on your face and in your voice.
"Oh" You look up and the sad, sympathetic look Beel gives you makes you want to cry. "I know the feeling"
"You do?" You ask, tears beginning to spill over
"You think I don't know how many problems my stomach causes for everyone?" He gives you a slightly more serious look, "But that doesn't matter" And now a reassuring, although still slightly sad smile, "Because the people who love and care about you will never think of you as a burden. And trust me, MC, there are plenty of people who love and care about you"
"Like who?" You didn't want to ask, part of your brain knew the answer, but you just had to silence those negative voices.
Beel blushed, "Like me" he says, then silently wipes the tears from your face and pulls you into the softest, safest hug you've ever felt.
Belphegor
He wasn't worried at all initially. Sure humans are fragile compared to demons, but they're not that fragile. Plus you've survived this long on your own and now you've got demons, angels, a prince, and a sorcerer all looking out for you. Not to mention the way brothers' tend to exaggerate.
He was laying outside under a large tree, intending to try out a new nap spot, when he saw you leaning out of the window.
He smiled and was about to wave when he realized something was wrong. You were leaning too far out of the window. You were going to-
He jolted upright like he'd been hit by lightning as he watched you lose your balance
He already knew there was no way he'd be able to make it to you in time, even with demonic speed.
Thankfully Beel was there. Belphie let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding when he saw Beel pull you back inside and got up to go make sure you're alright.
He realizes his brothers were right to be worried, and he's angry about it.
You're on your way back to your room by the time he catches up with you, but he can see that your eyes are red from crying, and his anger evaporates. He asks you what's wrong, and you explain everything.
Why you almost fell out the window, your conversation with Beel, and how you're afraid of being a burden.
"Well, Beel's right, you could never be a burden to any of us" He says, so don't even worry about it" he says, giving you an easy smile, despite how sad he felt for his human.
"That's... Easier said than done..." You reply, unconvinced.
"That's why I'll always be by your side, MC. I won't even give you the chance to worry about it!"
He pulls you into a hug and strokes your hair, starting the waterworks all over again. He'll hold you until you've calmed down again, and then pull you up to the attic where you two can make a pillow fort and nap.
He'll probably also start a tickle fight just to hear you laugh again.
Btw, who made you feel this way, MC, he just wants to murder torture talk.
Diavolo
Lucifer has shared his concerns, as he often does, so Diavolo is aware of your reckless nature. He finds it somewhat amusing, but mostly concerning.
It's during one of the events that he finally witnesses it for himself.
He always found it sweet how you tried to help everyone, and you were doing it again. You were running around helping all of the brothers with everything. He doesn't know how those seven managed without you before you came to the Devildom, and the way they rely on you is more than a little amusing.
This time you were helping Asmo with decorations, but he seemed to have disappeared somewhere, no doubt to fix his makeup, or to take a break to avoid sweating too much.
When Diavolo walked in his eyes went wide. You were using progressively taller stacks of chairs to climb the tallest stack in the room in order to hang decorations on the ceiling, and your arms were so full of supplies that there was no way you could balance properly on the already unsteady stacks.
He'd already made it to the base of the stacks when the one you were on started to wobble.
"MC!" he called out in a panic, but this seemed to startle you, and the jolt caused you, the stack of chairs, and all your decorations to come crashing down.
Diavolo caught you effortlessly, and shielded you from any flying chairs in the process.
"Mc, are you okay?" He asks, eyes still wide, "what in the Devildom were you thinking?"
"Sorry, I was just trying to help" you say
He feels anger towards the brothers creeping in the back of his mind. That they would leave you alone, with so much work, and still none of them are to be found after such a loud crash; it's unacceptable. But he pushes those thoughts back for now.
"That was dangerous, even for a demon. You could have been seriously injured just now," The look of concern on his face tugs at your heart.
"Sorry" you mumble again, "You can put me down, now... I should start cleaning up"
"Forgive me for being selfish," He smiles a little, "But I don't think I want to put you down just yet. The clean up can wait"
Your face reddens. You're not sure what to say to that, but you can't deny that it feels good to be held like this in his strong arms.
He looks briefly around at the mess of scattered chairs and decorations that you had intended to hang and clean up by yourself, "Tell me, MC," He looks back to you, "You seem to have a hard time asking for help, why is that?"
You're surprised by the directness of the question, and look away. He notices, and feels a bit guilty, but knows that if things continue the way they are, you will definitely get hurt one day.
"I guess it's because... I'm afraid of being a burden" you answer honestly. You feel that you owe him that much.
"I see..." He hums, then smiles happily, "Then perhaps I should carry you around until you admit that you are not a burden!"
"WHAT?" the look on your face makes him laugh heartily.
"Just kidding!" He chuckles, "...Maybe"
"Diavolo that's- I-"
"You are extraordinary, MC," There's a serious look on his face now, "In fact I could describe you in a million different ways, but the word 'burden' would never be among them"
He begins walking out of the room, still carrying you in his arms.
"What are you doing? What about the decorations?"
"I think I'd like to keep you to myself for the day, if that's alright with you, my dear" Diavolo smiles down at you.
As you two walk down the hall, away from the ballroom you hear the brothers' voices as they enter, "Whoa? What the heck happened in here?" Mammon exclaims.
Barbatos
He had invited you for tea, and you offered to help Barbatos make and serve it.
You try to carry too much, and in your rush drop the entire tray, shattering the beautiful tea set and all of the plates of desserts.
"I'm so sorry!" You immediately bend down and begin tying to pick up the pieces, "I'll replace it-" You stop as you realize that you're not sure you could even afford to replace a royal tea set.
"Allow me to help" Barbatos says, bending down.
"No, no, it's fine! I can get it!" You look up and give him an unconvincing smile, and while you're not paying attention to what you're doing, you slice your hand open on one of the sharp pieces of porcelain.
Barbatos pulls a roll of gauze and bandages out of one of his pockets, "Let's get this taken care of, shall we?" he says, but you're still picking up pieces with your other hand.
"I can do it, I just-..."
"It's only a tea set," As Barbatos stills your frantic hands, he notices your tears.
"I'm sorry," You finally say after a long moment of silence, during which he begins bandaging your injured hand, "I tried to help, but I was still only a burden after all..." Barbatos is surprised by this admission, to say the least.
"You should know that It makes me very happy to be able help and take care of people. I especially enjoy the way your face lights up with a tinge of surprise whenever I do something for you that you are not expecting..." He pauses in thought, and looks as though he's realized something that makes him sad, but whatever it is, he keeps it to himself. He finishes bandaging your hand, and places his on the side of your face.
"MC, It is a pleasure, and genuinely brings me joy to be able to do things for you. Please allow me to help you more often."
He takes a handkerchief out of his pocket and dries your tears.
He leads you to sit in a comfortable chair, "Please, rest until you feel better, and allow me to take complete care of you today"
He makes some tea and food for you both to share and makes sure you don't have to lift a finger for the rest of the day, leaving the broken tea set completely forgotten on the floor in the other room for the time being.
He always has kind words for you whenever you see each other, and while he enjoys your help in the kitchen, he always makes sure not to let you do too much, and he never lets you clean up.
He takes extra care of you from now on, and Diavolo finds it absolutely adorable, though he may be a tiny bit jealous.
Solomon
You might've actually given this man a heart attack.
He would've thought it was funny if it hadn't looked like the bookshelf was about to come crashing down on top of you.
"Don't worry! I'm used to climbing things; I'm careful!" You try to convince him, "That does not, in fact, make me feel any better, MC"
He dedicates time to teaching you a levitation spell or two, depending on your magical abilities, so you don't have to climb things any more.
As he's teaching you he decides to ask you about the book shelf incident.
"Something's been on my mind lately" He says, turning to you as you practice. You ask him what it is as you turn your attention to his face and notice that he looks troubled. "The other day, in the library. You knew I was there, sitting nearby... Why didn't you just ask for my help?"
"Oh, I just thought I could get the book myself" That wasn't the answer he was looking for, so he presses on.
"But surely it would've been easier to use a ladder, then. wouldn't it?"
"Well... I- uh- wasn't sure where they were" you sounded a little embarrassed, and turned your attention back to the spell.
Solomon looks a little saddened, "Hmm..." he pauses. You didn't want his help and you didn't even want to ask him a simple question? "MC, is there a reason you didn't want to ask me for help?" Watching you, he saw that the question gave you pause.
"I... have a hard time asking for help sometimes..." You admit, hoping that's the end of it. But of course, it isn't.
"Oh?" he gently prompts you to explain.
He can tell that you're only pretending to pay attention to the spell now, to avoid eye contact, "I've just always been afraid of being a burden"
His face grows sadder for a moment, but you continue to avoid his gaze. He folds his arms, and moves a closed fist to his chin in thought.
"I think that sometimes, not asking for help can be more of a burden" he says, finally catching your attention. You look up questioningly and he continues in a gentle voice, "Think about it, you're placing too much of the burden on yourself, which is making everyone around you worry. And besides that, what if you get hurt? Then you'll need more help from others than you would have in the first place"
It's your turn to look troubled. You hadn't realized that you were worrying everyone, or that you were causing them trouble.
He lets you think for a moment, before placing a comforting hand on your back.
"MC, it's okay to rely on others. People like it when you ask for help. It makes them feel special to you" He says, and when you look up he's giving you one of the kindest smiles you've ever seen on this shady magic boomer's face.
He hopes you catch his little hint, I want to feel special to you, MC
"Thank you, Solomon. I'd never thought of it that way" you smile back, "I'll try to ask for your help more often"
"I'll look forward to it!" He says with an even brighter smile.
Simeon
He noticed just in time; you had decided to walk home alone again and two suspicious looking demons were about to corner you down an alley.
You were scared, you think they had been following you for at least a couple blocks, and now you had nowhere to go. You were at a dead end.
"You two want to leave." A familiar voice, "NOW." Simeon was smiling, but he looked so intimidating in the shadow of the alley, and something ominous was also radiating off of him. Was he angry?
"C'mon it's not worth it" one of the demons said, "Killjoy" said the other. Simeon watches them leave with an intimidating expression before finally approaching you.
"MC, are you alright?" He asks, features now full of concern.
"Yea! Thanks for that, I was starting to get a little worried"
The concern on his face grows, didn't you know how much danger you'd been in just then? "Those two had been following you for a while... Why didn't you call out for help? Or call someone on your D.D.D?"
"Well... I- I just thought maybe they were walking in the same direction, so I wasn't sure..." You sounded nervous.
How could you be unsure? Simeon had never seen a more suspicious looking pair of demons in his life, and if you'd heard what they were saying they wanted to do to you, you'd understand why he was angry. He sighs.
He notices you're shaking, ever so slightly. Maybe you had overheard... You seemed to be more shaken than you were trying to let on.
In the silence he realizes that this part of town wouldn't be part of your normal route back to the House of Lamentation, "Were you lost?" You nod. "Why not ask for directions?" He asks
"Everyone was so busy when I left RAD... I didn't want to bother them. They're always taking care of me as it is... I just thought..."
So that's why you were walking home alone
"I'll walk you back then" he offers you his hand, and you want to take it, but to his surprise you can't bring yourself to.
"That's alright! You've already done so much for me. I'm sure I can find my way home now!" You try to force a smile, but Simeon can see right through you.
"MC... What's really going on?" His face is serious again but his voice is kind as he steps closer and rests a hand on your shaking arm.
You can't hold back tears any more, "I... Just don't... want to be a burden... to anyone" The quiet words break Simeon's heart.
Who could've made you feel this way?
He draws you into a strong, gentle hug, cradling the back of your head to hold you closer and stroke your hair.
"Don't ever think like that, MC" He breathes into your ear, "You are so loved"
Luke
You're going to give this smoll baby angel a heart attack, and there's not much he can even do to about it.
You were carrying too much, like you always do, and Luke noticed almost too late.
You were heading straight for the stairs, and your books and supplies were stacked too high for you to see!
"MC, LOOK OUT!" he shouts.
You stop just as your foot passes the threshold of the first stair and you feel the drop.
You drop everything you're carrying, but thanks to Luke's warning you stopped your own momentum before you could tumble down the stairs with everything else.
Relief floods through Luke as you stare at the mess, shaken and disheartened by the prospect of the clean up.
He runs to you, demanding to know that you're okay.
Of course he helps you clean up and carries as much as he can for you.
He's always offering to carry things for you now, even if all you have is a book or two.
He keeps a nervous eye on you from now on too.
Give this poor baby angel a hug.
#obey me#lucifer#mammon#leviathan#asmodeous#satan#beelzebub#belphegor#diavolo#barbatos#solomon#simeon#luke#angst#comfort
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⚠️⚠️⚠️!!!!SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 16 “PHANTASMAGORIA” OF ADRENALINE JUNKIE!!!!⚠️⚠️⚠️
You sat quietly at your desk. You hands traced over the worn oak wood. This was all wrong. It was too quiet. There weren’t as many papers everywhere, cute sticky notes, and no redstone handprints that were far too small to be yours.
There wasn’t nearly enough of anything.
It hurt.
God it hurt knowing that the one person you devoted so much time, and love and care into wasn’t fucking real.
Your breathing was heavy and tears clouded your vision as you hunched over your desk, curling into yourself.
“I-I had a son-”
Your broken words make your body and lungs shudder with the force of them and your voice cracked. Your wing pressed against your back uncomfortably, a few feathers out of place, but you couldn’t care less. You had already lost a wing, what would it matter if you lost enough.
A chill filtered through the room and you shivered. The basement was not warm at all and you could barely will yourself to get out of bed and down here.
Turning around feeling something brush a few of your primary feathers gently you whipped your head around. Your eyes widened and your wing puffed up, and your mind that could barely stay awake and focus on a single of the buzzing thoughts in your mind quieted.
It became solem and disbelieving like the basement you were standing in. All you felt was cold. The cool feeling on the cement floor under your feet and the ghost- phantom?- of your son standing before you.
“Arthur-“
"Hey (Y/N)!”
His cheery voice seemed to echo and you scrambled over to his translucent, misty form. It didn’t make sense. None of this makes sense. It’s not supposed to be this way. He’s fake! He’s not real!
You walk through Arthur. He’s not here…he’s dead. Or at least not here. Not alive. Arthur isn’t your prodigy anymore. He’s your son, your second half, your entire world. To find him here of all places. ’
He can’t be real. He was never real. No. No. No No No NoNoNoNoNoNo-‘
“Your feathers have grown since you gave me your last one! They look damaged though.”
Your tears seemed to burn into your cheeks not stopping for a second. Your hand kept phasing through the desaturated Arthur in front of you. His words imprinted themselves into your mind. After hearing his voice for so long, to hear a echo-y version of his voice.
His real voice…to see him here in front of you shiny copper hair a bit less bright, and milky white iris, long hair pulled back into a ponytail, and freckles splashed across his face, freckles all over him actually. An old jacket of your draped over his cream sweater, black pants with knick-knacks and drafts overflowing from the pockets.
A cool hand laid on your shoulder, only able to reach because of the levitation. Was Arthur taller? He looked more mature? Was he older…? What happened?
“Are you okay (Y/N)?” -Tall Soft Anon (Also sorry accidentally started this as a request >-> so ignore that also this was super fun to write, ur welcome for extra angst lolz)
You stared at his pale face in disbelief, how in the world was he here? Was this your Arthur? It had to be, he mentioned the feather you gave him. Ender, how is this even possible? An icy finger swept across your cheek, rapidly cooling the warm tear stains.
“(Y/n)?”
You swallowed the lump in your throat and screwed your eyes shut. A laugh echoed in the room, “(Y/n) you can’t hide from me, I’m finally here with you.”
You hesitantly opened your eyes and he was directly in front of you. After blinking rapidly and rubbing your eyes, he was still there. His smile was like it always was: wide, innocent, and cheerful. “H-how?”
Arthur winced slightly and glanced off to the side, “that- that doesn’t matter. I’m here (y/n), can you believe it?” A lively laugh bellowed from him, “I’m actually here!” He grabbed your hands and pulled you into a small dance. Granted he was merely moving your arms around and pulling you in circles, but despite the icy skin, he was here. He was actually here!
A watery chuckle escaped you as you returned his grin and spun him around, some of the redstone that had found it’s way onto the floor getting blown upwards and glinting in the light, accentuating the air around you two in a flurry of red sparkles.
Suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks and your arms were yanked from the change in momentum. He didn’t look you in the eye, “I can’t be here forever, (y/n). Our time together is almost up, it’s almost time for you to wake up.”
You bent over slightly (he had really grown taller since the last time you saw him) and put your hands on his shoulders. “Artie, what do you mean? You just got here.” He said nothing, instead reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small colorful magnet. It was somehow a picture of you and him when you had given him his first pair of goggles and gloves. You both were smiling cheekily at the camera with your cheeks pressed together, redstone smeared across Arthur’s face.
You looked at it before looking back at your son, “A-Arthur, what-”
He was smiling at you bittersweetly, “keep that to remember me. I… I really don’t want to be forgotten, (Y/n)… I don’t want to go yet,” his breathing picked up, “I don’t want to go!” He lunged at you and wrapped his lanky arms around your midsection, sending you to the ground in the process. You landed on your bottom with a small grunt before you made quick work of hugging him as close to you as possible.
You placed a kiss in his bushy hair, “I’ll never forget you, my little fledgling. I promise, we’ll find a way to stay together. I won’t let anybody take you away from me again.” He clutched your jacket tighter and burrowed his head into your shoulder, sobbing loudly between multiple “I don’t wanna go”’s
“Arthur, your time here is up.” You whipped your head up to see the person you didn’t want to see: Kristin. She was looking at the scene with melancholy and a frown tugging at her lips. Arthur whimpered and hugged you tighter, his fingers pinching your skin.
You glared at the goddess with an amount of hate you didn’t know you could harbor for someone. You picked Arthur up in your arms with slight difficulty and wrapped him in your wing, some loose feathers falling off in the process.
“You will not take him from me. Not again.”
“(Y/n) you must understand, he doesn’t belong here.” Kristen stepped closer to you. Her intense aura was nearly suffocating.
You turned your body away from her, “YES HE DOES. HIS PLACE IS WITH ME AND ME ONLY. I WON’T LET YOU TAKE HIM.” You ran a hand along his tied back hair soothingly.
“Fledgling-”
“NO. YOU DON’T GET TO CALL ME THAT WHEN YOU’RE TRYING TO TAKE MY SON AWAY.”
She stood there silently for a moment before sighing wistfully, “I’m sorry for what I have to do.” Without a second word, her fingers snapped and your hand was stroking the air. You looked on in shock and anger as Arthur appeared by her side, his hand in hers. Endless tears streamed down his cheeks as he tried to run at you, “(Y/N) DON’T LET HER TAKE ME!” You tried to run at them before she raised a hand up to snap once again. The last thing you heard was his terrified screaming.
“(Y/N)!”
You shot up in your bed with your chest heaving. Eyes flickering frantically around the room, you realized that you were in your bedroom. You put your hands over your mouth in an attempt to cover up your choked sobs and let the dam break.
Tears dribbled out of your eyes as you sobbed quietly into your hands. You just got him back, why did the universe keep ripping him away from you?! It wasn’t fair. None of this is. You just want to see his smile again.
“I’m sorry... I’m so sorry, my little fledgling.”
You cried until the sunbeams peeked through your window and you heard the tired shuffling of Philza’s feet on the carpet and the content hums from Wilbur outside your door. They didn’t bother begging for you to come downstairs with them anymore, not after you locked yourself in your room in your grief.
A shuddering sigh escaped you as you rubbed at your stinging eyes. You reached over to grab your glass of water on your nightstand before freezing when your fingers wrapped around something that definitely wasn’t a glass of water.
You furrowed your brows before looking down at it in confusion. When you recognized what you saw, your breath hitched in your throat and a shaky laugh escaped you.
There in your hand laid a magnet.
fuck man I’m cryin in da club rn. It was fun to write tho!
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Who We Are - F.W.
Chapter Four: Nothing More
Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three
a/n: the world may fall apart idk but rn i kinda have hope and that was enough to get me goin and fucking finish this chapter omg, im sorry i hope im providing a small amount of solace i know its hard rn
summary: Executing the prank leads to a moment alone with Fred that leaves you with butterflies and more questions than you can keep count of.
word count: 3.1k
warnings: fluff, just fluff and some shet writing baybeeee
tags: @you-make-children-cry @bohemianspacebabe @levylovegood @louist-pics @rochellestark @hufflepuffzutara @weasleybeb @whoreforfredweasley
The end of term quickly approached. I stood in my green dorm throwing things messily into my trunk. Today was the big day and my nerves were showing it. I had to help the twins prank Snape, that I was ok with, then I was spending the break with the twins and their family, that was scaring me. I was aware that all of the Weasleys were in Gryffindor, even Bill, and Charlie who had since graduated. I knew that my friendship with the twins, as well as Ron would give me cushioning but people, especially Gryffindors were never too inviting to Slytherins. I understand why Slytherins are seen as mean and cold, and I won’t lie I have been cold before. I turned people down often to focus on my studies and I don’t realize how I come off doing so. That was a bit of a curve in my relationship with the twins. They were apprehensive in continuing our friendship after my sorting and when they did I was thrilled, but we had a lot of issues none the less.
“Cmon, transfiguration can wait.” A second-year George pushed. I rolled my eyes, unable to study or keep focus as they continued to pester me.
“No, it can’t.” I snapped. “I need to do this, so please just let me finish it.” They glanced at me, obviously on edge due to my outburst before walking away. I sighed in relief and continued to scribble down notes. I had to get perfect marks to become a Healer, that was my dream and that was why I was sorted in Slytherin, my ambition and goals were at the top of my mind at all times. I was going to be a Healer. I knew since I was a child I wanted to help people.
I cringed closing my trunk as the memory resurfaced. I remembered the fight that followed that, I never meant to upset them or hurt them but I would put my studies first. I have loosened up since but I have shared my goals with them and they have been extremely understanding and stopped pushing me as much, giving me time to study. They understood my curtness and I promised to be kinder even when I was stressed. My temper caused some tension between us especially at the beginning of our friendship, but now they don’t see my house or the color on my robes but the girl they met on the train four years ago. My favorite days were the days where I would sit with Fred and George by the lake, they would work on a prank invention and I would work on my homework. It was comfortable and homey, they always made me feel at ease.
I picked up my trunk, pulling it out of the dorms and common room. There was eagerness in my steps as I made my way to the Gryffindor common room, levitating my trunk up the stairs I felt my heart rate pick up. I had never spent the holidays with friends, much less with the family of the boy who I had a crush on. I tried to regain my breathing walking into the common room. It always felt warm and comforting, a stark contrast to the Slytherin common room. Dropping my trunk by the portrait hole I scanned the room for my redheads. Spotting them, their backs to me as they talked feverishly to Lee Jordan who sat in front of them.
Jumping over the back of the couch I plopped in between them. Lee erupted into a fit of giggles as both boys jumped away from me. George glared, shoving me with his shoulder. This didn’t discourage my grin, looking over to Fred I saw him pouting. I bit my lip, reaching up I ruffled his overgrown locks. His pout transformed into a small smile. Seeing his features transform caused my smile to grow. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me into him. His scent engulfed me much like he was, cinnamon and fireworks overpowering the rest of my senses. I smiled as my hand traveled up to his chest, resting on it to steady myself as I crashed into his chest. I didn’t notice George and Lee staring with amused looks adorning their faces, all I was focussed on was Fred. His fingers traced small patterns on my arm.
Instead of address his affections he steered the conversation back on track. “So Lee, any thoughts.” I turned to see Lee, he looked as though he was going to burst into laughter, swallowing his amusement he shook his head no. I looked over to George who had a very similar look on his face. I realized their amusement was directed at Fred and I and I felt my cheeks heat up as I looked at the floor, slightly embarrassed.
“Are you ready?” I pulled my gaze up to Fred. He was looking at me concerned, the weight of his arm was lessened and I felt him pulling back, seemingly aware of my embarrassment. I quickly forgot about it as I nodded up to him smiling. I squeezed his jumper slightly with my hand.
“More ready than I’ve ever been.” I gushed. His arm relaxed and he pulled me closer laughing lightly. I tried to focus on him as the butterflies erupted inside of me.
“More ready than the last test you took? I swear you studied for two days straight.” I glared at him as he laughed more at my expression. It was true, I did study a lot, I was worried about my marks, but that was justified with the perfect score I received.
“It was worth it, besides I forced you to study and you did well, don’t make fun of me you benefited from it.” He sighed defeated.
“Let’s go lovebirds! I do believe you need to talk to your professor.” George threw a pillow at us and got up. His long legs pulled him up and in a few strides, he stood waiting for us at the portrait hole. I blushed and pulled myself off of Fred, putting my hand out to help him up which he gladly took and we ran off to the potions classroom.
I peaked my head inside, seeing Snape. From behind my back, I waved the twins off, signaling for them the hide as I walked inside the classroom clearing my throat.
“Mr. Snape?” He aggressively shut the book in his hands and turned to see me, his black hair swaying slightly. He raised an eyebrow, nonverbally telling me to continue. “Could you help me pick out a potions book to study over break? I haven’t been very happy with my marks and I wanted to improve, I just wasn’t sure which one to pick and Pince isn’t here.” He let out a short groan, placed his book down, and strode out of the door.
“Follow me.” His monotone voice rang through the hall. I skipped slightly trying to keep up with him. I glanced behind me and I watched the twins slink into his room, Fred sent me a wink before going into the room. I blushed and turned back towards Snape as he led me through the hall towards the library. The library visit was long and aggravating, Snape made a lot of remarks about my grades, calling them less than, but I pushed my anger aside and tried to focus on the task at hand which was to distract him for as long as possible. Eventually, once I had checked out three potions books, filled with information I already knew he was back on his way to his classroom and I ran up to the common room to find the twins. Walking through the portrait hole I was met with roaring laughter, the common room was packed with people all adorning red. Finding the source of their laughter wasn’t hard. As my eyes looked through the crowd I saw Fred and George, covered head to toe in a pink paint like substance, both of them looked extremely happy despite the color of their robes.
“I did not just spend half an hour with Snape for this to backfire.” I said walking up to them, I tried to sound serious but it was hard to contain my laughter as I got a better look at them.
“You didn’t! Let’s just say the cauldrons weren’t the only thing that turned pink.” George said sheepishly.
“Yeah let’s just say it was the desks as well…” Fred added.
“And the chairs…” George continued.
“And the walls…” Fred cringed.
“Don’t forget the ceiling.” George laughed out.
I shook my head at the two boys. Fred smiled at me and it made my heart race. “You two should clean up, before Snape sees you looking like his classroom.” They nodded and we all walked up the dormitory stairs toward the bathrooms.
I watched amused as George walked through the doorway, he was pulling clumps of pink paint out of his hair. Fred turned to me.
“Do you want to wait out here?” He asked.
“Well I didn’t think you wanted me in there while you showered.” I laughed out. “Give me your robes when you get out and I will try to get the pink out.” He nodded and walked in after George. I leaned against the wall trying to imagine Snape’s classroom, wishing I could have seen his face. Soon enough a dripping George walked back out of the doorway, he had a towel in his hands and another wrapped around his hips.
“Like what you see?” He winked as he used the towel in his hands to dry his hair. Dramatically he stopped and flexed, turning around and doing different poses.
“Will you go get dressed.” I laughed out. “Are your robes in there? I’ll try and get the pink out after Fred’s out.” He nodded and walked up the steps, he didn’t leave without showing me a few more poses but eventually he disappeared into his dorm.
“Y/N?” My head picked up at the sound of my name, I recognized Fred’s voice although slightly muffled by the door. “Will you come in here?”
I walked tentatively toward the door. I pushed it open and saw the big bathroom, the left side had multiple shower stalls and there were benches and cubbies to my right. Looking around I saw Fred leaning against a sink straight in front of me, he had a towel wrapped around his hips much like George but it sat slightly lower. I closed the door behind me and took a few steps forward.
“You ok Freddie?” I asked. He turned to face me and I gulped, his toned torso and pale skin was dripping due to the humidity in the room. The room itself was slightly foggy and the longer I looked at him the more hot I felt. The damp air caused my clothes to latch onto my skin and seeing him in front of me made my breathing hitch.
He let out a short groan. “I can’t get the pink out of my hair.” Looking at his hair instead of his body I could see the clumps of pink he couldn’t get out. I walked forward and reached my hands up to move his hair, our chests were close to touching, I could feel his eyes on my face which was getting hotter the longer I stood there. I kept my focus on his ginger locks, moving them around to inspect them the best I could considering our large height gap.
“Did you use cold water?” I asked. He nodded curtly and swallowed, I couldn’t help but laugh. “Well you hardened the paint and it’s practically dried in your hair now.”
He groaned again. “So I bloody gave myself hypothermia for nothing?” I bit my lip to suppress another laugh that was dangerously close from escaping. I watched as his eyes travelled down to my lips momentarily causing a new wave of heat and nerves to hit me like a bus.
“I’m sorry Freddie, I can try to get it out for you if you want.” I offered, I felt bad for him, I knew he didn’t want to cut his hair and if we didn’t get it out we might just have to.
“You want to shower with me?” He smirked down at me. I felt my cheeks warm up and my mouth go dry.
“I meant in the sink.” I gulped and slapped his chest lightly. His smirk didn’t falter as he lowered his head in the sink. I turned on the hot water, testing it to make sure it wasn’t too hot I directed his head into the line of water. I massaged his head lightly and I felt him relax as I did so. I saw the way his shoulders lost their tension and the muscles moved lightly as he sighed. I felt accomplished seeing that I was helping him.
I took my eyes off of his back and watched the water turn pink and go down the drain. When the water was looking clear again I racked my fingers through his hair to make sure I didn’t miss any clumps. Satisfied I turned off the water and turned around to grab a towel for his head. Drying my hands I heard him ring out his hair.
“Wow, thanks.” He said breathily, I turned to see him inspecting his hair in the mirror. I walked up to him with a smile on my face.
“No problem.” He smiled back, leaning down he went for the towel in my hands. Before he could grab it I threw it over his head. He pulled the towel off his face with a pout.
“That wasn’t nice.” He began to dry his hair, moving his arms up and fast which caused his muscles to ripple beneath his skin. I gulped eyeing him as my body felt warmer than I would have liked in that moment.
“Maybe that's my definition of nice.” I said breathlessly. My voice was a little weak and I knew my cheeks were flushed. He eyed me before halting his actions, the familiar smirk grew on his face and he walked up to me, closing the distance between us so there was less than an inch separating our bodies.
“Is it?” He drawled, looking down at me. I looked at him from beneath my eyelashes, watching every movement he made as my heart felt like it was going to explode. I watched his eyes as they flickered between my own and then down to my lips. I felt us get closer but I wasn’t aware we were moving. “You know I quite like-”
“Oi, stop snogging!” George’s voice made us both jump away from each other. I looked toward the door but it was out of sight. Relief washed over me as I realized that probably meant he didn’t see us so close together. “The train is leaving in less than an hour and I want to get food before we leave.” I watched as Fred collected his things, he sent me a sympathetic smile and walked towards the door. I didn’t move both confused and embarrassed. I heard a smack followed by a yelp from George before the door shut leaving me alone with their soiled robes and my racing thoughts.
-
The train ride was full of chatter. Pushing past people to find an empty compartment I heard a lot of whispers about Snape's classroom, the boys behind me were trying to suppress their giggles as we walked down the tight hallway. I stumbled a bit but towards the end of the train cart but I found one.
“Finally.” I exclaim, I pushed through the door and struggled to lift my trunk over my head. Suddenly it became lighter and I watched it move above my head and onto its rack. Turning I saw Fred pushing it into place. “Thanks.” I breathed out.
He smiled down at me. His hand lingered on my trunk caging me between the seats and him. Seeing him above me made my heart flutter, his hair was getting longer and it fell into his eyes, leaning up on my toes I brushed it out of his eyes slightly. I watched him tense slightly and sputter for a moment. He froze and I sat down happily knowing I made flush. He sat down next to me, leaving little room between us despite the empty bench. I looked across to the other side of the compartment where Lee and George were eyeing me amused. Rolling my eyes I tried to send them my best ‘drop it’ face.
The train ride was filled with giggles and Fred and George telling us about the prank from their point of view. Half way through their story I zoned out, eyeing the rolling fields in through the window. My thoughts traveled back to the bathroom, what happened there and what could have happened if George didn’t interrupt.
Was he about to kiss me?
My logical side said I was crazy for considering it but my romantic side couldn’t deny the fact that he kept looking at my lips. I brought my hand up to trace my lips, imaging what could have been as the scenery outside changed from farm land to the city.
“Almost there!” I announced. I remembered I was staying with them and I was put on edge immediately. The thoughts of doubt resurfaced about being rejected because of my house. I felt my heartbeat quicken and my palms get sweaty.
“Mum’s so excited to meet you.” George said snapping me out of my thoughts. I looked at him puzzled.
“She wouldn’t stop writing about it,” Fred laughed from beside me. “You’re going to room with Ginny is that ok?” I nodded as a response still feeling the nerves buzzing around inside me.
“Yeah,” George snorted. “She didn’t us to sleep in the room, I don’t blame her though, I don’t want to be up all night because you and Fred are snogging or more than that.” He feigned disgust and I tried to push down the embarrassment as I pushed my focus on the window. I watched as the train entered the station, out of the corner of my eye I watched Fred chuck a chocolate frog box at his twins head and Lee laughing only to be kicked by George. I suppressed my smile and watched the station change from a blur of people into more recognizable shapes as the train stopped.
#fred and george#fred weasley#weasleys wizard wheezes#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley fanfiction#george weasley#fred weasley fluff#harry potter#weasley twins#fred weasley fic#fred weasley series#weasley supremacy#harry potter characters#harry potter fanfiction
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He Loves Love (2/3)
Pairing: Baekhyun x reader
Genre: solo singer! AU
Word count: 7K
Warnings: slowburn, flirty Baek, ehm t-e-n-s-i-o-n
A/N: Finally the second part is here! I apologise if it took a bit longer, but darn, I just realised there is much more that needs to be told. I am so tired rn, I edited it but there still might be grammatical mistakes or typos, so I apologise in advance if it will interrupt your reading time :( I LOVED the feedback I received for the first part, so I really hope I didnt disappoint with this one. Please read the ending note! Enjoy! BTW: did you like the new album? I am having it on replay haha
Masterlist
1 <<<
You never thought you were a person deserving of a deep love or one capable of love. A weird sense of discomfort and impossible feeling overwhelming you was something you connected to that four-letter word. No matter how many times you had a crush (which was, unfortunately, rarely), the excitement wasn't enough for you to give you hope that you would be capable to love.
So when everything started with this famous singer, naturally you had doubts. You didn't want to get too much into detail about why you were feeling the way you were about relationships, but you definitely thought it is normal to think having a relationship with someone like him was ridiculous. He easily could have been playing with you. But you did not have relevant proof for this. Neither did you ever hear a single bad word about his reputation with women.
Just one date, he said. “I really want to take you on a date. A playdate?” he would raise his eyebrow, seducing you.
He didn't understand your point of view on the whole situation. But, what you did not know, was that he had figured you and your personality out, although you would let very little for him to read from your expressions. He admired how you maintained a professional attitude despite your racing pulse or your blown pupils. That, you could hardly control.
You sighed, looking at your reflection in the mirror. You couldn't stop your heart from beating so fast and so loud it was making you a bit dizzy… Let alone you couldn't eat a single thing the whole day because the idea that he was to pick you up at 11pm was making your insides so uneasy, needing to go to the bathroom every hour or, worse, making you almost vomit from the anticipation. He was so attractive, flirtatious, and you couldn't stop thinking about him ever since the shoot had finished. The second day of shooting was, when he asked you out. Very carefully, he formulated his question, but it was his voice, his deep eyes that told you just how much he meant it. And because you didn't have enough time, for he had to leave right after the shoot, you nodded in approval to which he rewarded you with the brightest smile, his eyes gorgeous half-moons, his cheeks puffed up just like he was smiling into the camera while he was being interviewed. Ever so carefully, he for your phone number, and when he saved it, he called you. Declining the call, you unlocked your phone to save his contact and that was when he muttered: “Please, don't lose your phone.”
“I won't save it under your name, that would be too obvious,” you replied quietly, feared of being overheard although you knew nobody would come to the storage room. Everyone was still cleaning up the set. But it was Baekhyun's team that was most probably looking for him by now.
He shook his head gently, making just a tiny step closer, suddenly his face not that far from your. “No,” he breathed, his eyes glinting, “but I will call you when I'm in front of yours. So don't lose it.”
You gave out a small chuckle, shaking your head at his cheesiness. “I cherish my phone, okay? Just like all the people these days. Don't worry, Baekhyun ssi.”
Pursing his lips, he said, before turning to leave: “Just Baekhyun, okay? For you, it's Baekhyun.”
And now, here you were. Waiting for - just Baekhyun - the singer.
You almost jumped out of your skin when your phone vibrated on the tiny table in your one-room apartment. Interesting how a usual vibration of a phone just meant a simple message or a phone call, usually not giving it any meaning. Now it gave you butterflies, another wave of nausea from all the anticipation and just pure bliss at the idea that he was the one giving you a call. Just like he promised, at exactly the time he said he would be there.
The entire time you were coming out of the basement (yes, your apartment was in a basement, having two small windows just under the ceiling) and out to the dark street was unreal. Those two minutes that it took you to leave your place and walk out felt like eternity because you were shaky and nervous from meeting him. There was also a possibility that after spending time with you tonight, you might never hear from him given that he might be disappointed in you, not quite what he thought you would be like.
You just hoped nobody would recognize his car or him…
Please, don't let anyone recognize him. Or they can recognize him and all, but please don't let them catch you with him, okay?
You quickly chided yourself for thinking such silly thoughts and just then you recognized his car. It was the only one with its motor on, quitely purring, the car just as black as the night, all shiny and so… just so Baekhyun. Which meant sexy. Could a car be sexy?
God.
You were going crazy.
Quickly making your way to the vehicle, you opened the door to the passenger seat and swiftly slid onto the leather seat, closing the door behind you with as much gentleness as you could, scared that it would probably just break.
You heard a gentle laugh from your left side and you finally turned to look at him, so mesmerized you couldn't stop the bewitched smile creeping onto your face as you took him in.
“I didn't pay so much money for this car for it to break if you close it roughly,” was what he said, but you could see his mind and gaze were quite unfocused as he let his eyes slide over your features that were ever so gently touched up with some make up. You were thankful he didn't eye you up hungrily like most men did, still a gentleman just like he was until then.
“Well, it ain't my car,” you replied, your smile widening. “And good evening to you.”
His elbow that was resting between you two was making his shoulder and chest so wide, but he was wearing a black, long-sleeved t-shirt so you couldn't make up much of him. Only the long silver chain hanging around his neck. “Good evening,” he muttered dreamily. After another heartbeat, he cleared his throat. “Ready to go?”
Finally looking ahead and out onto the street, you nodded. “No idea where to, but I trust you. So yeah, I am ready,” you said enthusiastically, not knowing where the positive energy was coming from, but it was welcomed. You looked at him again, to see his bright smile and a resolute nod before he turned to face the front, his right hand expertly putting the vehicle into drive.
The lights in the car were all red, including the seatbelt that was holding you together, because otherwise you might have fallen apart at how you were levitating in the air from the man driving next to you. And boy, did you need some reality check because this all seemed way out of your league for it to be true. So while Baekhyun was talking to you, asking you some questions to get to know you, your right hand slid to the outer side of your thigh and pinched it as hard as could, scared that you would suddenly wake up in your shitty one-room apartment and a bitter taste in your mouth at how real the dream was-
-except it wasn't a dream.
You were in his car.
And currently he was quietly laughing at something silly you replied, most probably not paying attention since you were too busy being scared of having such a vivid dream with him.
There was this whiff of his cologne, that was strangely soft and not quite masculine as you would have expected. It was clean, yet so enthralling it was the only sign you could connect it to you grounding yourself with the current moment.
“I hope you won't dislike my plan too much,” he said after he focused on the road for a minute since there was sudden traffic and he was changing lines. His eyes were checking the side mirrors, and you swallowed.
Biting your lip, you realised all the lip gloss has disappeared since you kept gnawing at it nonstop, too nervous to notice. “It is the company that counts, right?” you tried, but you just felt like everything you said might have earned you bad points.
He smiled, still looking at the road as he took a right, a huge hill next to you. Gazing out of the window, you held your breath.
“Wait,” you muttered, frowning. “Isn't this-”
“I live elsewhere-”
“UN Village?” your tone went almost an octave higher, not being able to tear your gaze away. After you passed the bridge to Hannam-dong, you recognized it immediately since there were so many embassies but you thought you would end up in Itaewon. But he was stopping right there. Turning to him, you gave him a squint. “What are we doing here?”
Since there were no more cars on the road as you were driving up he stole a glance at you. “Don't worry, we aren't going to any of the houses here.”
Your heart sped up again.
“As you know,” he tried, leading the car through streets full of expensive houses and mansions, and you wanted to hide from all the posh, luxurious buildings that seemed to be out of place in a cramped city like Seoul. “I can't just go anywhere I like, unfortunately.” Finally, he stopped the car in front of a house but on the other side of the road so that he wasn't blocking the entrance. “If you don't like it or feel uncomfortable, we can go elsewhere.” Now he turned in the driver's seat, facing you with a slight worry in his eyes. You might have not read him so well, but he honestly wanted to be on a calm place. With you. Alone. No disturbances.
You shook your head, scolding yourself internally for freaking out at him like that. Another bad point, you thought. “Not at all,” you replied, giving him an apologetic smile. “I don't think I've ever even been in the vicinity of this place, is all.”
“I guess I'm the first to bring you here then, eh?”
You chuckled. “Good guess.”
He stared at you for a tad longer than normally, which in your communication studies lecture definitely meant affectionate body language, but you tried not to pay too much attention. “Shall we?” he asked, motioning with his hand to the silent street.
Once outside, you realised his plan was very simple. Walking. Enjoying the bright moonlight above you that was almost in full moon. Oh, the city lights as well. The entire city of Seoul was lying in front of you.
“This is gorgeous,” you breathed out, stopping at some point to just stare and enjoy the pretty view. “I could stare at this the whole night.”
Feeling a presence right next to you, you turned to see his side profile that made you, once again, realise who the hell took you out on a date. Byun fucking Baekhyun. He brought you on your date, and it was walking in UN Village… Just walking in this posh place so that you wouldn't be disturbed. So that you wouldn't be caught.
The last thought right there gave you a powerful bang in your chest, and it only multiplied when the handsome man turned his head to look at you, his eyes soft as he smiled down at you. “I figured you aren't the type to like crowded places,” he said, breaking the comfortable silence.
You scoffed playfully. “Another good guess. Are you like a mind reader or something?”
Pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans, he laughed. “Could be? Sometimes you are quite an open book to me.”
“That sounds like we know each other for a long time, Baekhyun.” ssi, you added in your mind, the idea of being comfortable with him still foreign to you.
Few seconds passed by when he finally hummed. That hum that made wonders to you. “I kinda wish I did.”
Freezing for a brief moment, you dared to look at him with wide eyes. Biting your lip, you tried to come up with a reply quickly, but he faced you as well and stole your breath away. That pull, the attraction was suddenly ignited. “You can always amend that,” was what you managed to say. Inhaling deeply, you continued: “Is that why you… ehm, you gave in a word for my favour at the magazine?”
This time it was Baekhyun who froze, definitely not expecting you to know this information. It was supposed to be between him and you're editor-in-chief. “I-”
“What is your plan, Baekhyun?” you didn't let him speak. “Because…” you trailed off, suddenly your emotions on fire. “Because I want to be straightforward with you, as you know by now. You like me, I know that. But is this a game?”
“No!” his whole body turned to you, deep frown etched into his forehead. “I didn't know you could misinterpret me asking you out on a date as a form of, what, mockery?”
Inside, you knew he already explained himself to you, so that was why you beat yourself up for starting this subject again, but you couldn't help it. Your insecurities were skyrocketing and it didn't make sense for him to be interested in someone so lowly when he had all the glitter and shine within a reach of his hand. “I didn't say mockery,” you said. Opening your mouth to continue, he cut you off, stepping closer.
“What about you? Do you like me?”
You went silent, while your ragged breathing was answering him for you. Not breaking eye contact once, he nodded. “You know, I will need you to confirm with words.”
Starting to shake your head, scared that he caught you, you felt the need to explain, but you could only stutter: “It's not that- I mean I don't-ah! You are a famous personality,” you exclaimed, getting evidently defensive. “Why would you think I won't snap a picture of you and post it on SNS and just, I don't know, expose you?”
“You wouldn't.”
“What makes you so confident?” you dared him, your voice dropping in challenge.
“I trust you.”
“That should be a difficult phrase to say, coming from someone like you. A-list celebrity and artist.”
He kept looking at you, analysing you, but his stance was still confident and honest. “I could be just a normal man if you didn't look at my job.”
“Don't they usually talk about jobs on the first dates?”
He was quiet but he smiled, crossing his arms over his chest. “I feel honoured you finally consider this as an actual first date, miss.”
Scoffing, you looked away for a second but turned your gaze right back to him, him always being the magnet of your eyes. “You still didn't answer me, mister.”
A playful glint shone in his eye. “To which question again?”
You sighed but you were entertained and butterflies were fluttering in your lower tummy at the situation you found yourself in. “Why would you trust me... I honestly don't know.”
“You aren't ready for my answer, yet.”
At that, you frowned. “What does that mean?”
He shrugged, grinning pridefully. “Exactly what I said.”
“But-”
“You will have to come out for another date, or two-” he stopped abruptly, thinking for a second, his eyes up on the sky before dropping back to your eager orbs, “or three or four, to find out the answer.”
“Till then, I will have you alllllll exposed to the world,” you whispered darkly, widening your eyes at him.
That night, Baekhyun laughed the loudest.
-
Work, although your favourite thing, suddenly became a small dread and a difficult task to fulfill. Whatever transcriptions you had to do, meetings to attend, come up with ideas and make sure you were growing as an editor and future writer, you needed to speed up your game - or at least keep it up, since the feature with Baekhyun earned you quite the plus points with the editor-in-chief. It was only natural you did not want to disappoint her by any chance.
But you were very, very distracted.
This distraction was there nonstop. If not actively on your mind, then lurking in the back of it, always rudely intruding your train of thoughts about work, your line of work and basically everything that was involving anything in every minute of your waking hour.
Your hand would literally shake, your heart painfully jumping at any vibration of your phone and whenever his name was uttered at work (because you were still perfecting the interview and the pictorial for the release) you would quite literally jump in your chair, looking around frantically hoping to see… his face.
But you were only met with Hyeri's amused grin and a huge stack of papers that needed to be skimmed through. As much as you wished to be thankful for the amount of work that should have helped you get your mind off of him, it wasn't effective at all.
You were completely charmed, swayed and you didn't seem to know how to come back to planet Earth and stand with two solid feet on the ground. It wasn't like you were constantly in touch with him - so maybe that was why you were so restless, unfocused and just useless at whatever you did ever since the date in UN Village. Him being so busy just meant that he really was preparing hard for his comeback. And it also meant that he really didn't want to pressure you, for which you were thankful, and you just swooned more, because ugh, what a considerate gentleman.
So after couple of days of just swimming by at work, making sure all the absolutely necessary parts were thoroughly double-checked and handed in, you decided resolutely, that it was time to get yourself back on track. It wasn't okay for you to act this way because of some man. That was what he implied at the date, right? For you to look at him as just a man with a job…
Of course, when you entered office on a Wednesday with a hot cup of strong English tea in your hand at 8am (you needed to get in earlier to get some extra work done), your phone signalled a happy ding! letting you know you received a text message. No hour would be too early for your heart to react so frantically as you looked at the lit up screen to see the notification with the preview of his message before you unlocked your phone, excitement swallowing all your focused thoughts for the day.
Waiter: good morning!! ^^ i guess you are up already?ㅅ please have a good breakfast!! no caffeine on empty stomach!! i am already on the shoot, ㅠㅠ i hope you will make my long day a bit brighter with your reply hehehehe ><!! (8:02am)
A high-pitched giggle bubbled up in your stomach and out into the empty space of the office. You covered your mouth quickly as you read the lines over and over again, literally hearing his excited voice through the exclamation marks. Biting your lip, you sat down onto your office chair and stared just a bit longer before mulling if you should reply right away or wait a bit. It would look desperate if you replied right away, wouldn't it? But if you wouldn't reply right away, he might not have his phone with him anymore and you would have to wait a lot for his reply and also he was relying on you making his day brighte-
Another fit of giggles took over you as you realised that a message from you could make someone else's day much brighter. That someone else being Baekhyun. Who was waiting. Who was expecting a happy ding! of his own. Preferably from you.
Sighing like a love stricken teenage girl, you started typing before deleting. The cycle went on a few times before you finally resolved to just send the message.
Me: Good morning :) my day is much nicer now that heard from you :P I ate my breakfast but did you eat yours?? I bet you didnt… hope shoot is fun! (8:10am)
There. It should do for a whi-
Ding!
It wasn't even few seconds-
Waiter: shoot isnt fun without a certain editor being present…(8:10am)
Waiter: i had my breakfast!! but dieting only allows so much for now ㅠㅠㅠㅠ
Waiter: you leaving for work now? (8:11am)
Me: i'm sure the editor you have now is more professional lol
Me: i actually just arrived to work to get something done before others arrive
Waiter: huhuuu alone in the office?
Waiter: you work hard, just as i always knew you were
Waiter: dont overwork oki?
Waiter: and NO SHE IS NOT MORE PROFESSIONAL she doesnt even smile
Me: you overwork not me
Me: ok ok chill, people not smiling at me is my everyday life, welcome welcome ;)
Waiter: mmmmmm……...
Waiter: ill make up for all the unrequited smiles ^^
You put down your phone for a moment, needing a breather after his last message. No, no, do not by any chance get too attached yet, you chided yourself. But the pain in your cheeks from smiling too much was protesting, letting you feel the taste of the magic that was the man who was eager to talk to you at this hour of the day.
Thinking over what to reply next, another ding rushed in, following other excited ones.
Waiter: ive gotta run, they are calling me now
Waiter: if you feel like it, drop me a msg anytime hihi
Waiter: have a beautiful day
You quickly grabbed your phone, wanting him to see your message before he would face his busy day.
Me: thank you waiter. have a good day
Me: …
Me: I also wouldnt mind you dropping me a message :)
Gosh, you sucked. Texting was not your thing, you were bad at it and just… you felt like your messages were not conveying the real emotions that you were feeling, thinking. Meanwhile he was… wow. Pure passion.
Just before you could finally face the work you planned, you received an email from your editor-in-chief, which you immediately opened in case it would had to be dealt with right away. Only then you noticed it was an official email for your team.
Upcoming Music Awards attendee list, it read.
Your magazine was one of the few that would personally send out writers and photographers to bring its own insight into the various award shows. The magazine had even a special column just for the shows that were happening all over Asia, and your magazine was following its each step.
Quickly skimming through the introductory text she wrote, your eyes finally landed on the list of names of those who would have to attend the show, bringing some good insight into the show itself.
Excitement was burning in your veins as you spotted Hyeri's name and right after hers came yours.
Your name was there. You would go to the awards show. It would be your first time...
Another big step in your career!
-
Days went by, and you were starting to grow impatient about meeting him. It wasn't like you could do anything about it - he was constantly under supervision of his managers, since he was so packed with various schedules, photoshoots, probably even recordings for shows. You wouldn't know, and you definitely wouldn't be asking him about it. The reason was simple. As much as it must have been interesting to be nosy about his artist life, you were much more interested in him as a human.
As a man.
Weirdly enough for you, he kept in touch with you here and there, always reminding you to drink your water and eat good food. He would wake you up with morning texts and always manage to catch you just before pulling the curtains shut, ready for the bed. Was he a mind reader by any chance? You still wondered...
Just as you were thinking this, he was already making himself present by sending you a message.
Waiter: i was wondering where should i take you next?
Waiter: because it is definitely time for the NEXT
Your heartbeat instantly sped up, hands trembling as you opened his messages. But before he could bombard you more, you already had something in your mind. It was something you thought right after your first date, since you knew the place well you could ensure he wouldn't be caught there.
Me: I have an idea ;)
Waiter: but i am the one calling you ouuuuuuut so I should decide…..
Me: i thought you wanted to make me feel comfortable?
Waiter: yes. that, is true
Me: there might be a slight issue though…
As soon as you saw the read sign next to your message, your phone was ringing, his nickname flashing happily. Hastily, you picked it up, not ready to hear him like this.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” he breathed softly, a smile painting his voice. “So… What is this slight issue that would prevent me from seeing you?”
Not trying to give too much attention to your frantic heart at his choice of words, you replied calmly: “Well, you know Asan, right?” He hummed in acknowledgement, sending electric shocks down your spine. “There is this gorgeous place that literally looks like Santorini in Greece.”
He was silent for a moment before responding: “Santorini in Greece?” he asked, slight doubt in his voice. He called your name strictly, but you knew he was being playful with you. “Are you making fun of me?”
You giggled, slapping your hand on your mouth to shut out the shriek you let out. “No! I promise you I know the place very well. And at night there is barely a living soul.”
“Now you have my attention,” he laughed quietly, the sound of it somehow intimate. “So the best time is to go in the night, you say?”
“Yeah. We want you to stay unnoticed, don't we?”
“Yeah,” he sighed, obviously not happy he was making meet ups more difficult because of his status. “Would 10 or 11 be safe you think?”
“Definitely,” you answered, smiling brightly.
“Perfect! Then how about tonight?”
“Tonight?”
“Tonight.”
“Yes, tonight,” you confirmed, closing your eyes.
-
Knowing the way this Korean Santorini was, you dressed in an elegant baby pink dress, the long wavy skirt coming to your knees, the upper part gorgeously hugging all the right places. You rarely wore this dress, not needing anyone's attention on your chest, but tonight, although very shyly, you wanted to finally shine for someone.
What was this weird feeling pooling in your stomach? You felt it before as well, but this time knowing how he really wanted to meet you and spend time with you, this feeling increased and left you in a pleasurable pain that you didn't dare to think too much into. Being ashamed about your mind and your body's reaction to him, you wanted to pretend he wasn't affecting you.
But it was a concrete fact by now.
You both shared a rather strong chemistry and if it weren't for Baekhyun acting up on his feelings, you would never be in this situation.
Checking the clock, you hurriedly checked yourself once more in the mirror before grabbing your white sweater and heading out.
Just like on the first date, his car was the only car alive on the parking lot at this hour. Quickly making your way towards it, you slipped inside swiftly, closed the door and faced him with a bright grin.
A tired pair of eyes was what welcomed you, but his genuine smile still met them.
“Hey,” you breathed, your eyes running over his features.
“Hi,” his smile widened. Just like the first time, he didn't let his eyes drop down to check you out, but this time you realised you were not that happy with it. This time, you wanted him to check you out. And he better have made it obvious to you.
“You look tired,” you commented, concern flashing over your face.
“Oh, no, I'm good! It was a long day, but now that you are finally sitting here I feel much more energised,” he tried, not looking your way as he reached for the GPS, handing it to you before pulling the seat belt over him again. “Type in the address and we shall head down to Asan.”
Your mind was racing with possible options on how to resolve this situation.
Of course, the best would have been to immediately send him home to have the rest he was obviously so deprived of.
But who were you kidding.
You were selfish and sending him away from you was the last thing on your mind.
So the second option was something you were dreading, but what wouldn't you do?
“I think we should just erm, take a taxi or something, and leave your car here. I don't think you should drive like this. It isn't that far, but at this hour in this state it will be difficult.”
He glanced at you briefly, and you saw the wheels turning in his head as he was also brainstorming options. Then he looked at you, calling your name. “Do you have a driving license?”
“Excuse me?”
“Can you drive a car?” he repeated patiently, glint of amusement at your shocked face.
“I can, yes,” you replied, hesitant. This didn't sound good.
“Let's switch then,” he decided, already unbuckling his belt. “You can drive us there, right?”
“What?” you whisper-shouted. “But I can't drive your car! What if I crash it? I wouldn't be able to pay the damage in the next ten years!” you exclaimed, flashes of the possible unfortunate event vivid in your mind.
He chuckled at your outburst before reaching his hand out to mess with your nicely combed hair as he rested his head back on the headrest, giving you an affectionate look. “I trust you, remember? I don't have a problem with you driving my car.”
“But-”
“We can go elsewhere-”
“Okay, let's switch.”
He laughed loudly, the sound giving you an incredible sense of satisfaction. It was you who made him laugh, brightened his features. It was you who was glistening in the reflection of his eyes.
But he didn't move, not yet. His eyes were trained on you, his head still leaned back on the headrest. “I don't want to give you stress,” sweetheart. He bit his lip.
You shook your head, suddenly determined. “Not at all, Baekhyun.”
His eyes turned into gorgeous half-moons, loving the hue of pink and red kissing your puffed up cheeks from the flush that he was obviously causing you. Slowly, he was getting more and more assured about the effect he had on you, and he wouldn't lie if he said he was starting to like it quite too much given how shy and innocent and cutely professional you were trying to be with him.
“Eerm,” you let out, baffled by his intense stare. But he was still not moving, so you decided to reciprocate the intense stare, the purring of the motor a completely closed out noise by now. If elephants would start falling from the sky, you both would have been oblivious. “Should we… change?” you asked quietly, as you also rested your head on the headrest, your left cheek touching the soft leather of his car.
He also adjusted his face to have a better look at you. “Are you sure you will be alright?” he mimicked your silent voice, but to you it seemed loud in the quiet space.
Not answering right away, you let yourself enjoy his eyes on you, just as you wanted him to. What you couldn't imagine before though, was the softness of his demeanor, tenderness and something- affection? How could you know? You still had to explore him, his facial expressions, his ways of telling you how he was feeling...Licking your lips at the thought, you closed your eyes briefly before opening them. His lips, although ever-so-slightly, lifted. “Yes. You will be right here, guiding me right?”
“Of course! I will be the captain,” he said as he lifted his head from the rest as he leaned in, utterly unable to keep any distance between you two any longer, “and you will be the ship.”
-
Successfully, you made it to the highway that was leading you outside of Seoul. Not daring to be close to the speed limit, you still drove the car in an acceptable manner, not even daring to blink in case some idiot of a driver would jump in front of you which would lead you crashing Baekhyun's car.
You heard a soft laugh from your right before you saw a hand in your line of vision. It landed on your right one, leaving it there briefly, but still long enough to give you a complete heart-attack. “Relax,” he said, entertained. “The steering wheel didn't do you no wrong. Your knuckles are literally white.”
Knowing yourself all to well, you were about to spill some nasty swear words, because you couldn't drive and do conversation, let alone being touched by fucking Byun Baekhyun. “Okay, okay, I am relaxing just don't-” you stopped abruptly as he retrieved his hand and gave you a quizzical look, “ehm, just, rest, would you? We have a date to attend to after the arrival.”
It was silent for literally one second before he bursted out into a huge fit of laughter, making him wheeze. “God, you're so cute. I didn't know you were this blunt while driving!”
Biting your lip, you felt your face heat up from the points he made about you. “Please,” you sighed, “just don't pay attention to me.”
“Now I kind of want to annoy you, though,” he replied, coughing his laugh away as a mischievous grin was overtaking his features. “Who knows what might I get out of you by the end of this ride?” his flirty tone was taking lead.
“Baekhyun,” you warned, not giving a damn about keeping your image clean and kind.
“Yes?” he asked, his voice like honey. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
Scoffing, but smiling anyway, you looked at the side mirror, about to switch lanes, turning to the direction of Cheonan, Asan. “Am I going in the right way?”
With that he immediately checked, but you knew you were going to the right one, based on the signs that he didn't seem to pay attention to. He checked the GPS that was lying in his lap, before he looked on the road. “You are. Keep going straight.”
Even though you couldn't see him, your peripheral vision was on spot. His seat was pushed more backwards, as yours was pushed towards the steering wheel, since his legs were longer than yours. He was sitting comfortably, his right hand gripping the holder above the window as he was looking ahead on the road, occasionally letting his gaze rest on your side profile before looking back, scared you would catch him staring.
It was silent for a bit, but you didn't want to break it, hoping he would get a peace of mind, and just rest up.
Then you heard it. A tired sigh as you sensed he leaned back on the seat even more. “How was your day? I hope I wasn't too pushy with my request to meet tonight.”
“Not at all,” you breathed, “I was glad you asked.”
Baekhyun smiled to himself as he finally let his eyes close for a moment, enjoying your company and the fact that you were driving his car. So cute as you solely focused on the road, but one of his touches and you were on fire. He licked his lips. “I would have asked way earlier,” he started, making a slight pause, hoping his words wouldn't scare you away, “but I really didn't want to push you.”
Silently, you were dying to hear more of what he had to say, you heart causing you slight problems with focusing on the highway that was, thankfully, almost empty, except buses and trucks.
“Heck, I would have called you out as soon as I brought you home last time.”
To this, you giggled, feeling like on cloud 9 from his confession.
“You're laughing at me?” he cracked one eye open, once again unable to stop himself as he poked the side of your right thigh.
You giggled more before almost losing balance with the car.
He stopped, seeing your face. “Oh, sorry, sorry.”
No, don't be, you thought, now completely on fire. Touch me more.
-
Just as you told him, Santorini, or also called Blue Crystal Village, was silent, the small streets full of white, traditional Greek houses making you smile right away. If you tried just a little bit, you could easily believe you were actually in Santorini, if only there wouldn't be signs in hangul everywhere.
Finally standing on your shaky legs, you heard Baekhyun lock the car and joining you in front so you could start walking. It was a very, very foreign urge, but once he was next to you, you had the need to take his hand. However, you knew you were nowhere near close to that stage. You still couldn't easily let him slip between your fingers.
“Wow, this place is literally Greece,” he laughed quietly as he looked at your reaction before motioning with his head to start walking.
He had a cap now securely on his head, which was good for a coverup, but you hated the shadow it was throwing on his eyes.
“This used to be my favourite place once,” you told him, “very, very good getaway when you want some quiet time.” You walked in the streets, the fairy lights connected from one house to the other, some displaying hearts, others just big light bulbs. The streets were all lit up prettily, just as you remembered. “In fact, I used to come here whenever something was bothering me.”
“Really? Want to share something more?” he urged, playfully pushing you with his elbow.
And so you talked about your university studies, and various memories that were tied to the streets you were currently walking on. He was such a great listener, although you preferred him when he was speaking. Simply, because you loved his voice, the expressions he made, his body language.
And he was able to show it all to you through that one hour and half that you wandered around, took pictures with the fairly lights and the houses, and eventually sat down at a little convenience store that had a small table and plastic chairs outside. Baekhyun insisted on buying you both a drink - lemonade. You couldn't help but smile fondly at this gesture.
“I don't really like drinking alcohol,” he explained as he sat down opposite you.
Just like that, you got to know him better. You got to realise how deep and serious he could be, a complete opposite of the playful puppy he was on set. Of course, he would always make sure to be flirty, and the electric shocks you got whenever your hands would accidentally touch while walking, would be too painful, borderline unbearable.
It escalated completely when both of you stopped in front of the car. You were ready to drive back, still worried he would be tired.
As he unlocked the car and you opened the door, he suddenly pushed it back, letting it close. You turned, only to be surprised at the proximity of his body.
“Sorry,” he let out a breathy chuckle, “Just… I don't think I can get out of the car and give you a proper bye once we arrive at yours.”
What did he mean by this proper bye?
Your heart fell at the realisation.
Would this be the time where he would tell you he wouldn't be seeing you again?
Before the panic could take over, he continued: “I really enjoyed my time with you tonight. Also, I will be driving back!” he exclaimed with a wide smile.
Confused, you nodded and gave a small smile, ready to turn when he held you by your wrist and gently brought you to him. The action caused your breath to hitch, legs getting shaky at his warm touch. “I just,” he started again, but he shook his head once before lifting his left hand and held your cheek gently. This was the moment where you could have sworn you would go down on your knees. “You're so beautiful,” he murmured, looking at your lips. And he was leaning in. His breath fanning your right cheek. His wet lips touching your skin, giving you a sweet kiss. You closed your eyes, heaving out a shaky breath. “I like you. Even more now,” he whispered. Slowly pulling away, but not too far, he whispered as he let his hand that was still on your cheek slide towards your hairline, his thumb caressing your skin. “Could you now tell me using your words?”
“Wha-”
“Do you like me?” he murmured, his eyes gently smiling at you before his gaze dropped again on your now parted lips. “I need you to confirm it. Out loud.”
Now or never. You might have been already falling too hard, when you spoke: “I like you.”
He leaned in, giving you hopes of receiving your first kiss. But he merely gave a lingering kiss to your other cheek. Baekhyun let his lips hover over your flushed skin as he made his way to your lips, once again lingering there for a brief second, giving you false, painful hopes, before he brought them up to your forehead and finally, pressed them there. “Awesome.”
---
There. Will. Be. A. Next. Part. (final)
Cause its just too much what I have in mind! I hope I didnt disappoint. Please, let me know what you thought! I love to hear any feedback! 😇
Btw can you guess why is his nickname "waiter"? ^^
#baekhyun fanfiction#baekhyun fic#Baekhyun fluff#baekhyun scenario#baekhyun imagine#exo fic#Exo scenario#exo imagine#exo fanfiction#baekhyun ff#baekhyun au#my writings
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Destruction
@nostalgic-breton-girl (I decided to post this on my writing blog because I don’t think things through when I reblog prompts apparently lol.)
Prompt: "Destruction"
Summary: Vivec and Ildari learn that Baar Dau has fallen.
Rating: T, but content warning for (brief) survivor's guilt that borders on suicidal ideation
Notes: I'm not going to get too deep into Dunmeris headcanons rn but I'm using "daeli" as a sort of title for "adult who isn't technically family/parent but might as well be."
Also I follow up on this sometime. We shall see.
Destruction
Ildari could hear the rumbling of an ash storm outside as she followed her daughter into the kitchen to make breakfast. Vivec was already there, sitting at the table with a faraway look in hir eyes. Immediately, Ildari knew something was off. Ze never sat in chairs; ze always levitated if ze could. She was about to say something, but Dreveni beat her to it.
"Daeli Vehk," the seven-year-old giggled, "that's my seat! You don't sit!"
Vehk's eyes snapped back to the present, and ze took on a bright, practiced smile. "Ah, my apologies, Sera Drevi! How incredibly silly of me," ze said.
Ze stood up and walked—feet on the floor—out of the room, ruffling Dreveni's hair as ze went. Ze caught Ildari's eye for a brief moment, but the look ze gave was enough to confirm that something was definitely wrong. Ildari made Dreveni her kwama eggs and slipped out into the next room to find Vivec.
She found hir sitting on the couch this time. Hir head turned to face her when she joined hir on the couch, but hir eyes were still locked far in the distance.
"It happened," ze said in a small voice.
She did not need to ask what "it" was. She knew ze was talking about Baar Dau—the Ministry of Truth. It had finally fallen from its place in the sky onto Vivec City. They knew it would happen sooner or later, of course, and they had done what they could to prepare. They had moved to a house-pod in Marog for the time being—not far from Tel Uvirith, but off of Vvardenfell—but not before they had warned others to evacuate as well. They could not do so directly, of course. The Indorils were intent on controlling the image of the Temple during this time of transition, and they had deemed it unwise for one of the gods to start warning people of the end of hir own power. Instead, they had disseminated whispers to a number of information hubs and let the webs do the rest. Before long, the population of southern Vvardenfell had begun to dwindle, and the mainland cities saw a population boom. The problem was that no one knew exactly when it was going to happen. Many people, sensing only the same impending danger as always, had opted to delay their departure until things became a little more dire. Ildari wondered whether any of them would make it to safety.
"How bad?"
"Very." Hir voice was barely audible. "I'm not that good at projection these days, but I can try to show you..."
She felt a nudge in her mind and reached out and accepted it. Though projection did not require direct contact, Vivec grasped her hand tightly as the images began to flow.
She was first faced with the view of a smoldering crater. She wondered what she was supposed to be looking at, or if Vivec had even targeted a location on Nirn, until she started to notice things she recognized. The head of a statue here, the corner of a canton there, all barely recognizable among the utter destruction.
The palace, Vivec spoke into her mind. The view panned to the rest of the city, which looked largely the same.
Is anyone...Did anyone...? Ildari stammered.
There's more.
The scene changed to an aerial view of Vvardenfell. The devastation was even wider-spread than they had anticipated. The island was covered in a layer of smoke and ash emanating from Red Mountain. The view shifted, and they saw through the smoke. Rivers of lava poured down the mountain and throughout the island, filling what foyadas existed and flowing freely where they did not. Cities burned where tephra from the initial blast had landed. Even those regions that would have been spared from the impact were susceptible to the aftermath.
"Why are you crying?" Dreveni asked as she climbed into her mother's lap.
It was only then that Ildari noticed the wetness on her face. She let go of the projection and Vehk's hand and wrapped her arms around her daughter.
"Something very bad happened on Vvardenfell," she said. She knew she would have to explain more very soon, after deciding what level of detail a seven-year-old child could handle, but this would have to suffice for the moment. "Daeli Vehk and I have to have a grownup conversation," she said. "Why don't you go play in your room, little scrib?"
Dreveni still looked concerned, but she kissed her mother on the cheek, hopped off her lap, and headed off to her room. Ildari cast a one-way sound barrier around herself and Vehk, so that they could hear outside noise, but Dreveni would not be able to hear them.
"How many people died?" she asked once it was safe. "How many people are still dying?"
"I...I don't know. I can't hear them anymore," ze said. "I thought I'd gotten used to the feeling—it's been years since you unbound the Heart—but now I feel the emptiness more than ever. I know the people despair. I know they're crying out to their gods, but I. Cannot. Hear. Them."
Ze broke into a sob. Ildari drew closer and pulled hir into a hug, and ze buried hir face in her shoulder.
"It's my fault," ze said after a while. Ze looked up at Ildari. "I need to go there."
"Go...where?"
"To my city."
"Vehk, your city is gone," she said gently.
"I need to..." Ze clenched hir fists and then released them with a sigh. "I should have been there."
"You'd have been killed."
Ze flung hir arms wide and made a face that said that that was the point.
"Vehk—"
"Why am I alive when my people are dead and dying?" ze said. "Their blood is on my hands. I've never had this much of my own people's blood on my hands before and I can't even feel their pain. I can't make it my own."
"If there's too much blood for you to act, then share it," Ildari said. "Share it with Sheogorath, who would be the sole cause of the destruction if you hadn't stopped it in the first place. Share it with Azura, who claims to love her favored people but did nothing to prevent this. Share it with Uriel Septim—Dagon take him—who sent me to effectively overthrow you, knowing that this would be the ultimate result. Share it with Voryn, whose hunger for power was what forced the prophecies to a boiling point." She took Vivec's hands again and said, "Share the blood with me."
"Iya, no. This isn't your fault—"
"I'm the one who cut off your connection to the Heart," she said. "I saw that rock floating overhead every time I was in Vivec City, and never once did I think to ask what your plans for it were."
"It wasn't your responsibility. You were practically a kid before you had your memories back. And, forgive me, but you were a pawn. You weren't supposed to have any real power."
Ildari shrugged. "That doesn't change what's happening. And it doesn't change our responsibility to help the survivors."
Vivec's expression was grim, but ze made no further attempt to disagree.
"All right. Where should we start?"
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Time travel is for babies
Hey funky bunch! We back at it again with another chapter of Time travel is for babies. I'm rewatching Tua rn and loooord. Diego fine as hell. Okay so I know that this doesn't go exactly with the show so bare with me.
Warnings: swearing
Part: 3
Not my gif
Everyone kinda went their separate ways. I went to go look at the paintings. They are so gorgeous. I wonder how my world is doing. How are they doing? All the baby shower decorations and food. I wish this would have never happened. God I miss him. But this Five does have pretty eyes. Terrible attitude but pretty eyes nonetheless.
Gun shots. I look around to find where they are coming from. I don't see them until Diego runs in the living area. “Of course. I mean who else would have people coming to the academy with guns and weird ass masks.” I say loudly. “Oh shut up.” he yells back. I slowly levitate downward. I land on the big ones shoulders and wrap my legs around him. I started trying to get into his head but the helmet is keeping me out. He slams me into a wall and I hit my head.
I fall off as Luther and Allison make their way in. He soon is choking Allison. I jump up to hit his arm and he let's go of her. I kick the back of his knee and he falters. Luther tackles the guy. I back up and take a breath. This is shitty. They must be here for Five. Where did he go? This kid is getting on my last nerve. Allison and Diego ran off somewhere. I ran down the hallway and see Klaus just doing his own thing without a care in the world.
I find them in the game room. Allison is fighting the other one. “Hey yo bitch!” I shout at the top of my lungs. They look at me. I wink to Allison and she hits her side. From behind me Diego throws a knife I feel it go past my head and land in her leg. She screams and gets away.
We end back in the entrance where Luther is in the middle of the room. Bunny head drops the chandelier on him. I hear Allison scream as it land on him. He grunts a bit but he still gets up. His shirt rips and we can see his body. He's covered in fur. “Holy fuck.” I whispered. He ran off to his room I look over to Diego. We share the same shocked look.
As things calm down. I walk around to check on Klaus. “Hey Klaus? You in there?” I ask as I knock on the door to the bathroom. I walk on and see an empty room. Okay so he's not there. Maybe the kitchen. I walk down there and no Klaus. I make a quick sandwich and continue my search. Still no Klaus. Maybe he went out. I shrugged it off. Maybe he went to get some drugs. I really hope not.
I go up to Five’s room and lay down on his bed. What if I focus on my Five’s consciousness and see if I could astral project myself into it. I finish my sandwich and close my eyes. I concentrate on Five. I feel it starting to work. I stay at for what feels likes hours. I open my eyes and that old doughnut place he loves. He's sitting at the counter. “Five! Is that you?” I say as I walk up to him. “Y/n? Baby! Where have you been?” he said as I reach him. I jump into his arms and hold him for a bit. He smells so good. “I've missed you. So so so much. I have been in a different world. It's like ours but your younger and mean. I aged down. It's all so very weird.” I say into his neck. “You just disappeared I thought you didn't want to get married. I thought I took it too far.” he whispered.
I shook my head. “No. Not ever. I love you Five. With all my heart.” I say as I grab hold of his face. “I love you too. Please don't leave me ever again. I can't handle being alone. I can't be without you baby.” he said as his eyes start to water. “Oh honey. I want to be home so bad. I just gotta find a way to get back. I really miss those eyes.” I say as I stared into his eyes. “My eyes?” he asked as his face scrunched up in confusion. “Five well the other Five has these gorgeous blue eyes. I always knew you would look good with blue eyes. He's so mean. Probably because he's dealing with the apocalypse. But that doesn't give him the right to be dick.” I say. I stand on the ground and sit in the stool next to him. He coughed “Did you just say the fucking apocalypse? No. You come home. Do not help them.” He demanded. I laughed. “You really wanna argue right now. I don't even want to help them. I just want to get home to you,baby.” I say then take a sip of his coffee. He just stares at me. “How are we gonna get you home?” he says. I lean closer to him. “I don't know but right know I just wanna kiss you.” I say staring at his lips. He smirks a bit as he leans closer. “Y/n!! Wake up.” I hear. “Huh? What?” I say as Five starts to fade. “No no no. Please. Please don't leave me.” he said as he tries to grab me.
My eyes open and I see the other Five. “What the hell dude.” I say as I sit up and stare at him. “I need some help and you were talking to me in your sleep.” he said as he backed away. “I was talking to MY Five.” I grunt.
That's part 3 y’all! I hope you liked it. If you ever want to request something let ya girl know! Much love. Xoxo
Taglist: @potenzel @parkersinfinitywar @milky-bihh @bookfrog242 @rosehargreeves @thollandssweetheart @im-a-solanum-lycopersicum @natblidaclexa @fruittypics @gabrielle-henson @sleepy-bunnie
#five#five hargreeves x reader#fiveau#five x reader#five hargreeves#number five#diego hargreeves#klaus hargreeves#vanya hargreeves#allison hargreeves#luther hargreeves#the umbrella academy#masterlist#time travel is for babies
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george comforting crying!reader hcs
PAIRING: george weasley x reader
REQUEST: anon asked “One shot or head cannons is fine. George Weasley x reader comforting them after a good cry.”
WARNINGS: georgie bein a cute lil bby
NOTES:
okay so as soon as george found u, he would be out for blood
“give me a name or fred’s pillow gets it”
but u calm him down
explain that u just had the shittiest day ever
your potions essay that u worked super hard on?? snape failed it because u forgot to put ur name on
someone spilt their tea on u at breakfast
ur foot went through a stair
and u seemed to piss everybody off
basically, the shittiest day ever.
and u just wanted to go hide in ur dorm and have a good old cry
but of course my boi georgie is ready
he was there when ur foot went through the stair
his eardrums are still scarred from his your scream
and he takes one look at ur face and realises
today was shitttt
he comes and finds u after classes in ur dorm
after sneaking out to honeydukes to buy chocolate obviously
and is holding a whole trolley worth of chocolate whilst tryin to levitate a shitload of blankets
spoiler:he drops it all
but saves the chocolate
and when he gets up to your room and sees u with ur bloodshot eyes and hair like a birds nest
he meLTS
bc u a soft bby
and he wanna snuggle u
literally dumps the duvet on u
rolls u up into a lil burrito
then puts the chocolate by ur bedside table
gets another duvet
and rolls himself around ur burrito
then spends about three hours feeding u chocolate and listenin to u vent
and also dreamin up how to murder snapes slimy ass
bc no bitch is hurting his boo
and also he just feels like prankin snape whattt did u guys hear somethin
but yeah get me a george weasley pls
aaaa i love george!! i didn’t before writing for him but now i love my ginger bby :’)
likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated!
send an ask if u wanna be tagged!
tag list: @shadylittlewonder @hoewkeye @blackpinkdolan @sassy-specter @i-am-eating-rn
#george weasley x reader#george weasley fluff#george weasley headcanon#george weasley headcanons#george weasley fanfiction#harry potter fanfiction#pottair writes
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