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totaly-obsessed · 1 year ago

Note

Could you write for leah but reader is her little sister and she's been like misbehaving at school so her mum asks her to talk to her as of she's being like bullied or something to get reader to admit it.

(Sorry I miss spelled something the first time and didn't realise I took the name out when I was fixing the mistakes)

Big Shoes to fill

Leah Willamson x reader fic

pt.2 here

-> Reader, Leah's younger sister is having trouble in school - mysteries get solved.

-> Talk of bullying, homophobia, (maybe child neglect?)

-> @ anon, I hope you like it - a little bit angstier than most of my stuff

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Amanda and David Williamson had had enough. Since school started again, they have received nothing but bad news from their youngest daughter’s school – your school. At first, it was just forgotten homework, until you missed attendance a couple of times – then they made sure, that you did in fact go to school and classes. But after getting better, it got worse again – you had started to misbehave more and more, talking back to your teachers and being constantly rude to everyone around you.

It was stressful. Of course, you didn’t change your behavior overnight, and you didn’t change because you were bored – but nobody seemed to care. Leah had moved to central London a couple of years ago and your older brother Jacob moved to Australia – leaving you all alone in your parent's home.

They weren’t bad people or bad parents, but they were busy. Work. All day, every day. Both of them had already been older when they had you – Leah already eleven, and Jacob seven when she was ‘blessed’ with a younger sister.

The footballer loved to tell you how your first meeting went, boasting to everybody that you wouldn’t stop crying until she held you for the first time, falling asleep in her skinny, little arms. It was her favorite picture of you as a baby, even to this day.

When your principal called Amanda at work for the third time that week, she was done trying. Instead of picking you up, she told the man on the other side of the phone to let you walk home – no matter how much you whined. To his surprise you did not even complain, taking your bag and walking out the door – dull, tired eyes and an empty smile on your face. You finally did it. Maybe you never had to go back. Maybe they finally gave up on you.

Once you had arrived home you were drenched by the London rain, shivering as you made your way through an empty house, taking a shower before you started cleaning up your muddy footsteps. Everything was normal until no one came home. Usually, your mom would get home at five and your day by eight – but now it was already nine and no one was answering your texts.

The lock of the front door ruckled, and after a few tries, it was finally flung open. Like in a bad horror movie a silhouette was shown by lighting in the background – but after a deafening silence aside from the falling rain, Leah stepped inside. Her hair kept back in a beanie and a bag of take-out food in her hand – “I’m homeee!”

You took the food into the kitchen before handing her towels and dry clothes, leaving her to get changed. “You, my love, are the best sister, ever!” By now you had plated the food and set up on the couch, two glasses, and a bottle of wine. “I’m your only sister, Lee.” Her blue eyes softened at your weak voice. “I knowww, but you’re always so good to me.” She pulled you into a tight hug, almost afraid to let you go.

You handed her one of the plates, two slices of Pizza on it – your joined favorite – as she eyes the glasses. “Aren’t you a little too young to drink, Missy?” A sheepish smile was the only response that she got, and it was enough. Leah could see that something was up.

Usually, you had time to prepare when she visited, knowing of it beforehand – but today was different, she just showed up. You didn’t have time to hide the bags beneath your eyes, or do your hair in a way that didn’t look completely life-less – and she noticed. Of course, Leah noticed. She would always notice.

You ate dinner in silence for a while, just happy to be in each other's presence, having missed that feeling once Leah had moved out and you had gotten older. But when both plates were clean, Leah literally licking the crumbs off them, you couldn’t take it anymore. “I’m guessing you’re the one I have to thank for Mum and Dad being somewhere else?”

Your older sister swallowed hard, knowing that you would ask, but she had still hoped that she could gently lead you into the conversation. “Yeah, they’re at my place.” Leah’s place was a stunning apartment closer to the Arsenal training facility. As gently as she could, she took your hands into hers, immediately noticing how cold they were.

“They told me that you’ve been havin’ trouble in school. What’s goin on Bug?” You hated that look. Leah’s eyes clouded with worry terrified you. She really did care, and while that was nice to know, it also meant, that you would hurt her, no matter what.

“Mom doesn’t know what to do anymore, and Dad- he, well he doesn’t either.” Of course, you knew that. Your mother's tired eyes nearly mirrored your own. But you couldn’t tell them. They wouldn’t understand.

The silence was deafening, and your older sister tried to be subtle with her concerned staring. Sadly for both of you, Leah’s subtle was like an elephant in a fine China store. She really did try not to coax anything out of you, wanting you to feel safe enough to open up.

“School’s just not my thing.”

Both of you knew that you were lying – you loved learning new things and while school might not have the right topics for you, it was better than dying dumb.

The Arsenal player’s eyebrow was intimidating enough for you to just give up. You were tired of fighting your feelings, hurting yourself and everybody else.

“Why are you so rude to the people in your class?” She really was serious, there was no backing out now. “They are not nice people.” Her gaze hardened, her suspicions forming even further. “Why don't you like them?”

But she was met with silence. While you wanted to let her know, that those kids were mean ones, you didn’t want to tell her why they were so mean to you. It would break your sister's heart.

“Okay, what about your football team? Do you have any friends there?” Every time your eyes wandered up from staring at your joined hands to meet Leah’s, they snapped back down. The look in her eyes was terrifying. She seemed scared.

And it was all your fault.

“Oh, I stopped playing football.” Your parents hadn’t even noticed. You washed your own laundry, so when at some point your sweaty training clothes stopped showing up, no one noticed. The only one who did was your trainer – she was now missing one of the most known last names in English women’s football in her team.

You didn’t need to look at your sister to know that she was shocked, her stunned silence doing all the talking. “W-What to do you mean – You quit? But you love football!” You did. You loved watching Leah and her teammates play football, there was so much passion on the field, silent understanding, and mastered routines when they played. “Just drop it, Leah.”

Realization set in for the England captain – you were growing up. Gone was her little sister, who would do anything to be like her. The little sister who worshipped the ground she walked on.

“Why did you quit then? Mom didn’t tell me about it. Why didn’t you call?” You had downed the contents of your wine glass, stealing Leah’s as well. It scared her, just how tired you looked. “Didn’t want to interrupt your day, you’re a busy woman now. Mom always says that.” You took a deep breath, before making air quotes “Leah has more important stuff to do now, honey. Don’t call her, what if she is in an interview?”

The silence was suffocating. It never used to be like this, at least not that Leah remembered. “You would have never interrupted. I will always make time for you, Bug.” As much as you wanted to believe that, you couldn’t. No one made time for you. Not even your mom and dad, who used to do so many exciting things with all their kids in the house. But it was different now. With Leah and Jacob gone.

“A phone works both ways, Leah.”

The footballer was stunned. You were right. She was complaining to your mum, on and on, about how she didn’t know what was happening in your life – but she herself made no effort to change that.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Her confession and apology meant everything to you – even if you feared, that they were empty.

The wine bottle was now empty, and Leah still sober – but that was her plan, and it was working a charm, as your slightly slurred words started to pour out.

“I am so proud of you. You know?” A deep sniffle filled the brief silence “Winning the home European Championship, leading the team to the win, playing every game.” Your eyes were staring into space, as your sisters’ hands tried to warm yours, scared of how hollow you looked and felt. “But it’s not easy living up to that, you know?”

You once again grabbed the glass, disappointed when it was empty. But you didn’t get up to get more. “All everyone said when we went back to school, was how I would never be as good as you.” Tears threatened to fall from Leah’s eyes as things started to make sense. “That’s not true, y-“ but you didn’t let her finish her desperate try to change your mind. “It is true, Leah. I will never be as good as you – because I don’t really like football that much. Your passion and love for it, made you work harder to get where you are right now. I just played so that Jacob and you had something to talk to me about.”

Your whole life you had been pretending to love the game just as much as your siblings did – and when Leah thought back on it, she started to see it. You never had a team you supported, but it was always the one she had played for, or preferred. Not a single well-known footballer came to your mind when you were asked. The only answer you would give? ‘My sister, Leah. She is my favorite footballer of all time.’

“People had never been the kindest to me. I mean I could handle it when they just made fun of me for defending you. But after the win, all of a sudden everyone loved you, and then I was the one they were hurling insults at.” Tears made their way down the blonde's face, leaving a salty taste on her lips. “What did you need to defend me from?”

She knew it was bad the moment that your hands let go of hers. Seeking space. “Well, people knew. They knew about you and Jordan.” Sobs started to wreck her body as you desperately tried to soothe her by rubbing her back.

People were insulting her for being gay, and you stood up for her, making yourself the target.

“Bug, I- I don’t know what to say…”

The tipsyness started to make way for your guilt. She wasn’t supposed to know. You knew that it would break her heart, knowing what was happening at school.

“I hoped, that if I acted cold enough, people would leave me alone. But they didn’t. I tried to tell Mum that I wanted to change schools, but she was busy.” Now she understood. You tried to get yourself kicked out of school so that your parents had no choice but to notice and send you to a new one, where you could start over.

“I am so sorry. You shouldn’t have to go through that.” Your gaze finally met hers, gone was her baby sister. The teen in front of her was much too mature for her age, needing to wise up after being left all alone in the world.

“I know Lee.”

My god. What had she done? Leah Williamson was sure if there was an award for being the worst sister – she would have surely won it.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #woso imagines #arsenal wfc x reader #engwnt x reader #lionesses x reader #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine

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dreamingofep · 9 months ago

Text

A Blue Velvet Crush

(Elvis/Austin!Elvis × reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

TW: Cussing, teasing, SMUTTT, fingering

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)

Word Count: 5.4K

A/N: Hello everyone! This picture of Elvis lives rent free in my head and I knew when I first saw it, I had to write something for it.

If you've never seen some of this performance, I'd recommend watching! I'll make another post with the youtube link!

Thank you again❤️

Sorry for any spelling mistakes or goofs.

Mississippi, September 26th, 1956

Traffic was backed up for miles and the buzz in the air was electrifying. You couldn’t hide your nerves though. You weren’t even supposed to be here today but by the grace of God, you got thrown in the ring and had to cover today’s most important story. Elvis Presley was back in his hometown of Tupelo, Mississippi to perform a charity concert. His rise to fame seemed to happen overnight and everyone was dying to see him in person.

You were just an intern at the Tupelo Mirror and your supervisor that was running the Elvis story got sick this morning. Eric called you at the crack of dawn, frantic that no one was going to be there to take pictures. You had only been at the newspaper for a month and a half, you didn’t want to overstep your role and be too forward, but you mentioned that you have photography experience. You ran your college photography club and were majoring in journalism. You know you can take some decent shots of him. You try to sell yourself, affirming you can do this! The whole reason you were working for the newspaper was to get a better shot of getting a job at a newspaper company after you graduated. You thought this would be the perfect way to gain the experience. And if you got some good pictures of Elvis Presley? That could change your whole life.

You did have a fondness of the man but like, who didn’t at your age? He was the new cool guy who was causing havoc wherever he went. He was talented and had this luring sense about him. You hadn’t ever seen him in person, but based on the few televised appearances he’s made, he was beyond incredible. You knew he had a talent that no one had ever had. Your parents would always make a fuss if you were watching him and tried to make you feel bad for it.

“No Christian boy should be moving like that! It’s abhorrent.” Your parents used to say.

You’d just roll your eyes and grumble under your breath. Your parents didn’t understand that he was something young people could love and be fully immersed in without having to act all prim and proper about it. There was no other artist that would make you feel the way Elvis made his audiences feel. He was passionate and he felt the music to his very soul. It showed so easily he didn’t have to say he loved what he was doing.

And now you were going to be feet away from Elvis, taking his picture and maybe even getting the chance to ask him a few questions. The cars started moving forward more and before you could get through the gates, a police officer stopped you. You rummaged through your satchel and pulled out your press pass. He quickly nodded and directed you to the portion of the lot where other photographers and press reporters were gathered. You quickly find a spot and throw your car in park. You throw your satchel over your head and grab your camera out of its bag. It wasn’t the most high-end camera but it took nice pictures. You double-checked the camera had enough film and quickly made a beeline to the stage.

There were thousands of people here already and the buzz in the air was electric. You saw girls jumping up and down giddy that they were about to see Elvis live. You had some of the men standing next to them with a bored expression on their faces like they didn’t want to be there. You had to play it cool though. You had your press badge on and the last thing you needed was for someone to see you acting giddy when you had to be professional today.

There was a corralled section for the press behind ropes that gave you a bit better access on the side of the stage but it was still very crowded. Not only that, but it was all men here and they were all significantly taller than you. You couldn’t see a damn thing from this area and became worried you weren’t going to be able to get one good photograph of this entire thing!

You try to push and shove your way closer to the front but just get these condescending looks toward you and don’t budge an inch for you. You didn’t expect anything less honestly, the industry was made up of men and wasn’t exactly kind to women entering the workplace. You shake it off, not letting it get to you too much.

The audience starts screaming as the band takes their place on stage. It’s a small band with just a drummer, bassist, and guitar player. They’re all smiles when they hear the crowd go wild for them. Your eyes are focused on the side of the stage though. You want to get the first glimpse of him when he gets on this stage.

The audience continues to grow antsy and an announcer hops on stage. He steps in front of the microphone at center stage and taps it with his finger.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I know you all are very excited to have one of our very own from Tupelo be here today. I need you to give a warm welcome to Elvis Presley.”

The crowd erupts at his name and everyone bursts out in insane excitement. You keep your eyes on the side of the stage and you raise the camera to your face, getting ready for the first shot.

The audience gets louder and you feel the hair on your arms rise. There you see him. He’s dressed in a velvety blue long-sleeve and loose black slacks with his perfect white oxfords. His hair was greased back and looked shiny. He had his guitar on and made his way to the microphone. From this angle, he looked so tall, his legs easily gliding him across the stage.

He carried this nervous energy about him tho. He puts his hand in his pocket and grabs the microphone with the other hand.

Click.

He starts Heartbreak Hotel and drives the place insane. Everyone is screaming and some girls are even crying. His voice rings out flawlessly and once he starts singing, there’s no stopping him. He can’t seem to stand still. Whether it’s the music moving him or the nerves, he is shaking and moving, making the crowd even more insane.

There are times when the screams overpower his voice coming through the microphone. He has an amused look on his face the whole time though. Especially when he swings his hips and makes the girls go bezerk. You catch yourself blushing at those moves, how he can move his hips so easily as he makes these in-passion faces. He made you feel something you’ve never felt before. It was bad, it was lust driving you to keep looking at what he was going to do next. You wanted him to move more to see just how those hips would move in other circumstances…

Click.

Fucking focus.

He wasn’t afraid to get close to his fans. It looked like he really loved them. You could tell he moved his leg just to get them going and have them look there. Or how he’d say a certain word and prolong it all sensually, it drove the place nuts. Even just the way he held the microphone and dragged it along beside him. He commanded that stage by doing the smallest things. Elvis walks slowly to the edge of the stage where dozens of fans reach out their hands for him. He gets close and reaches out his hand too, still singing and never missing a beat.

Click.

You get the side profile of him but you think it’s going to be a great picture when it develops. What you really want is a perfect picture of his face straight onto the camera. That would be a great way to solidify that you are a great photographer and can do this professionally.

Elvis finishes his set and gets rushed off stage into the building behind the arena. You follow the crowd that’s trying to get to him, hoping you can get another picture of him that’s even better than the ones you took. The other photographers aren’t paying any attention to you and push and shove their way through. You huff annoyed, hoping you can get in there before they close the doors.

You find a spot on the side but all the men in here are so much taller and crowding Elvis. You slump by the door, frustrated that you might have ruined your big chance to prove yourself at the newspaper as you haven’t gotten a single shot of his face straight on. You wanted to the perfect shot and it seems your opportunity was wasted.

“Alright everyone it’s time to leave. Elvis won’t be answering any more questions,” a man bellows. Most of the men try to protest but they slowly start to funnel out of the door. You continue to get pushed aside until you’re almost behind the door. You don’t move from behind there because, for a brief second, a devious idea pops into your head.

Just stay here long enough for everyone to leave and ask for a picture when he’s alone.

Your heart pounds away at just the thought of being alone with Elvis but you had to try it. The worst he could say was no and get out.

The last few remaining men shuffle out of the room and Elvis yells out that he’ll be right out. The door shuts closed, making your little hiding spot be exposed in plain sight.

Elvis had his back to the door so he didn’t see you right away. You sighed in relief for that but had to work up the courage to say something to him.

What exactly should you say in this situation? ‘Hi I snuck in your dressing room even though I was told to get out, can I take a few pictures of you for the newspaper?’

You cringed just thinking about it. You took a few deep breaths and straightened out your dress.

“Umm, excuse me, Elvis?” You say sheepishly.

He turns around quickly at the sound of your voice and stares wide-eyed at you. He doesn’t say anything right away and neither do you because seeing him this close and in person is too much.

He is beautiful, in every shape and form, he is beautiful. You’ve never seen such a handsome-looking man before in your life and have no words. Logical thinking went out the window with him and he looks at you with the same expression on his face. You haven’t said more than four words to him but you want him. You want him to look at you and touch you and never stop. Your core flutters at that scandalous thought.

“You scared me there honey. H-how’d you get in here?” He asks with a mischievous grin forming on his face.

“W-w-well I uhhh. Well, I work for the newspaper and I was wondering if I could take a few more pictures of you?” You ask nervously. A long silence fills the room and you are about to turn on your heels and run for the door when he gives you another cheeky smile.

“Sure, I don’t mind at all. What was your name lil’ darlin’?” He asks smoothly.

Lil’ darlin’.

Jesus Christ I’m not going to make it out of here alive with all his charm suffocating me.

“Oh gosh Elvis, thank you so much. This truly means so much to me. And my name is y/n.” You tell him in a hurry. You make sure your camera is on and ready before you look back up at him watching you intently.

“Y/n… that’s very pretty…Where’d you want me, honey?” He coos.

Your heart pounds in your ears and you can’t register anything he just said. All you can do is look at him in shock and can’t believe you’re alone with him. You know how many thousands of girls would kill for a moment like this? And the question he just asked?! Ooh, the sheer audaciousness he has. He knows he's irresistable.

I'd love you to cover me in kisses with those pillowy soft lips...

“Huh?” You say in a daze.

“Where did you wanna take my picture honey? You’re the photographer and all,” he teases. You feel the heat rise to your cheeks and you nervously look down at your camera.

“Oh yeah… sorry… I’ve never really done this,” you admit. His eyebrows shoot up surprised, “First time? Wow, that’s somethin’ for a little lady coming here and coverin’ a story on a day like this. The whole town is making a huge fuss over me, I don’t think deserve it, but it’s very special either way. I’ll make sure to give you the best pictures,” he winks. It feels like your heart just about stopped by that one minuscule movement.

Stop that. Stop that right now!

You sweetly smile up at him and move further into the room, trying to see what angle and lighting would be best. The wall behind him was blue and you thought that would be a perfect backdrop to accentuate the velvet shirt he was wearing and his piercing blue eyes.

“Umm, let’s try with you stand there. I think that would be a nice background,” you say.

He casually takes a few steps back and puts his hands in his pockets.

“Like this?” He asks. You raise the camera to your face, make sure the frame is straight, and push the button.

Click.

He looked good without even trying. He had this golden aura about him. Like he shined from within. He was remarkable and you know that without saying much else to him. Even if you didn’t like him already, you can see the appeal. He was so easy to love. So easy to be around. Everything about him was inviting and warm. You don’t know how you were going to peel yourself away from him…

“Okay, how about one smiling?” You ask. He nods his head and gives you this cute cheeky smile.

Click.

God help me I can’t breathe with this man around looking this good.

“How are they comin’ out honey?” He asks, his southern inflection on honey making you feel like the actual word.

“Oh, just fine. I think they’re going to be amazing when printed,” you try to say casually.

“Oh good… what are you doin’ working for the newspaper?” He asks, fixing the sides of his hair with a comb.

Click.

“I don’t work for the newspaper, not yet at least. I’m just an intern. I’m a student at the University of Mississippi studying journalism and thought it would help to work there for a bit so when I graduate in two years, I can hopefully get a job at a newspaper,” you explain.

He intently looks at you, interested in everything you have to say, “That’s wonderful honey. I think that’s great you’re pursuing that. I don’t doubt for a second you won’t get a job anywhere you apply for,” he says sweetly. You can’t help but blush at his nice words and fiddle with your camera.

“Thank you, Elvis,” you say quietly. He walks over to the sofa that’s up against the wall and casually takes a seat.

He stretches out one arm along the back of the couch and the other rests on the arm of it. His legs were spread open and your eyes can’t help but stare at them. They were so long and he exuded sensuality, it nearly made you dizzy. He sees how you’re looking at him, intrigued with the man that so many found attractive.

You raise the camera to your eye once again as he looks down the lens intensely.

Click.

You felt like screaming like those girls were earlier. You’ve never felt so attracted to someone’s presence. It kind of scared you in a way.

He moves on the sofa slightly, bringing his hand to his mouth and giving you this luring, sultry gaze.

Oh lord, I’m a dead woman…

Click.

He doesn’t change this pose after the flash goes off, he continues to sit there with his eyes drinking you in. Your body can’t take this, the tension in the room is palpable and you are seriously considering running out now since you have plenty of good shots. Elvis slowly starts to lower his hand from his mouth and you see he was biting his lip behind it this whole time. He slowly drags his teeth across it before letting it go with a pop.

“Anyone ever tell you how beautiful you are?” He asks softly.

You can’t hide your flushed cheeks anymore and lower the camera from your face to see if he’s being serious. His eyes look heavy and somber, but he cracks a little grin to lighten the mood.

“Oh, no… not something I normally hear,” you say insecurely.

“That’s a shame darlin’, you really are. You have the most gorgeous smile, beautiful eyes, and the longest legs I’ve ever seen,” he gushes.

I’m dead. I’ve gone to heaven and died. This can’t be happening!

“Well thank you very much. I could say the same for you,�� you say coyly.

His eyebrows raise at the blunt remark and chuckles softly to himself. He lowers his hand off the back of the sofa and places it on the empty space beside him, looking at it, then looking back up at you. He doesn’t need to say another word, he pulls you in without trying.

You carefully place your camera on the table and take your bag off your shoulder. You make your way to sit beside him as your heart gallops like a racing horse.

He turns his body a bit to face you more and being this close to him is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. You have to hold your breath or he might notice how nervous you are.

“No guy back home telling’ you how pretty you are hmm?” He says, tucking back stands of hair behind your ear. All you can do is shake your head no. His fingertips barely graze the lobe of your ear but it makes you feel weak anyway. The arousal dripping from your core is not helping the situation and not letting you think clearly.

“Oh, well I’m sorry men are so blind over there. I think you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he quips, giving you a cheeky smile. “The most pretty eyes, the most pretty nose, the most pretty pink lips I’ve ever seen,” he coos, leaning in closer until you can feel his breath on your lips.

You can’t take it anymore and lean in, devouring his lips with yours. You let out a deep breath as your mouth touched his, his lips feeling softer than you could have ever possibly imagined. He was so gentle with his kiss, making sure he wasn’t overstepping your boundaries. But you didn’t care about that. You screamed for more from him. More kisses, more long heated stares, more everything.

You boldly, place your hand on his bicep, pulling yourself closer to him. He responds to your touch and you can tell he likes it. His crushed velvet shirt felt nice underneath your fingertips and felt his toned arms. He places his hand on your cheek, pulling you in with more urgency. You feel breathless, loving the way his skin makes yours feel like it’s on fire.

Elvis softly pulls away, not before biting your bottom lip and letting a sigh slip out of his mouth.

“Those lips darlin’, I could kiss them all day,” he mutters, his eyes heavy with lust.

“What’s stopping you?” You whimper. He grins and pulls you in once more.

You can’t believe any of this is real. The way he is kissing you should not feel so good and yet it does. You put both of your hands on his chest, pulling him closer to you by the collar of his shirt. His hands start to roam along your back, feeling the curve of it and how well this dress fits you. Every inch of you wants his hands placed lower. Right at the spot that is yearning for friction from those perfect hands.

He starts to drag one of his hands to your hip, squeezing there then down the top of your thigh. Need coursed through you and you couldn’t help but open your legs a tad bit. You’re not sure if he noticed, but he let out a pleased hum as he kissed you with more intensity.

You needed to feel him. You needed to feel how soft his skin would be when it’s pressed against yours. Your hand sneaks into his shirt and feel the coarse little chest hairs he had there. You were right, his skin felt perfect and it only made you crave more. You snake your hand lower and onto the top of his thigh. You make the same movements he’s doing to you and you feel his body melt at your touch.

You move your hand a bit lower and go to caress the inside part of his thigh and you freeze.

“Oh…” you moan into his mouth.

What you felt underneath your fingertips made you cry in need of him. Dear God, he was blessed in more ways than one. He was so much longer than you expected and it made your heart leap out of your chest. His cock was warm and fully hard in his pants as your fingertips slowly start to rub against him. You pull away from his lips and have to look at what your hand is feeling.

You were going to die and see the pearly gates if you tried to have that inside of you. But God you didn’t care, you wanted him so bad. You’ve never wanted a man like this in your entire life. Looking up at Elvis, he looks calm and collected, still giving you a heated stare. He looks down at your hand, then back up to you with an innocent look about him.

“You like what you feel baby?” He asks low. You take a deep breath before answering him.

“Y-yes. Yes, I do…” you say softly, your hand moving along him more. He lets out a pleased groan and adjusts his hips slightly, liking the feeling of your touch on him.

“Do you want more? Do you want to feel what it’s like inside of you?” He coos, leaning in for a soft kiss that leaves you dizzy. Your breathing felt erratic and the ache you had in your core only worsened.

“Yes please Elvis… please,” you beg. He smirks at you and kisses your neck, sending a shock of electricity through you.

“Can I see what you’re wearin’ underneath this pretty dress honey?” He asks you. You nod your head and his fingers find the zipper of your dress easily. He slowly pulls it down and pulls down the fabric off the front of your body. You help him slip you out of your dress and sit there with your white bra and panties left on. He lets out a pleased little groan as he sees you sitting there, trembling with need. He gently touches your exposed skin, leaving little goosebumps behind. He touches your breasts gently, biting his lip as both of his hands cup them and start to play with your nipples through the fabric of your bra. You can’t help but lean into his touch loving every second of this.

He places a soft kiss on top of your breast as he reaches around and unclips your bra. He quickly puts one of your nipples in his mouth and sucks on it, groaning as he does so. Your back arches into his mouth, craving so much more from him. His other hand roams your body but only focuses on the top half of you. Your core was dripping with arousal and aching to be touched by those long fingers. You guide one hand between your legs and have him put pressure there.

You gasp instantly, his touch feeling better than you could have imagined but also realize you’ve soaked through your panties. He takes his mouth off of you and pulls away to look down at his hand.

“Fuck honey, how long have you been soaked like this?” He grumbles, his two fingers sliding up and down through your covered folds and creating the most delicious friction.

“Since I saw you moving on that stage,” you admit weakly.

He chuckles softly, “Oh honey, why didn’t you tell me sooner… this pussy just weepin’ for me?” He asks as his fingers slide the elastic of your panties to the side and expose your leaking core to him.

“Yes,” you moan. He nods his head and slowly pushes a finger inside of you. You both groan together, filling you so nicely. Your hips rock into his hand, needing everything he can give you.

You throw your head back as he adds another finger inside of you.

“Elvis,” you moan, your chest heaving for more. He watches you intently, liking how on edge you are for him. His fingers twist and curl inside of you and you gasp for air. He likes what he’s doing and can’t get enough got you either.

“You feel so nice and wet baby. Can I give you my cock now?” He asks.

“Please, I want you Elvis, please give it to me,” you beg, reaching for his belt and unfastening it. He pulls down your panties and you lift your hips to help him get them off. You then work on the button of his pants and slide down the zipper. He lifts his hips up too to take them off and you watch as his cock comes out. Oh God, you were weak by just looking at it. His pink tip was peeking out from his foreskin and clear precum started to dribble down his length. His hand wraps around his length and spreads some of that slickness around the tip of him, moving his hand up and down slowly. You look back into his intense eyes and don’t know what to say.

“You want to ride me, honey?” He asks. The look on your face must have shown the apprehension you had thinking about taking him like that. He rubs his thumb along your cheek and smirks at you.

“It’ll feel so good baby. You’re so wet for me, you’re going to cover my cock in your sweet honey and make us feel so good,” he groans as you watch him swirl his thumb around the tip of his cock. A pent-up moan escapes your lips and quickly straddle his hips, needing him more than ever.

He rubs his length through your folds, covering him in your arousal and making you both moan with the sensation. You hold onto his shoulders and press kisses to his cheek. You feel him line himself up to your entrance and hold your hips. Elvis looks up at you with need and his eyes are begging you to have him. You felt the heat of him pressed there against your entrance and you can’t wait any longer. You start to sink down on his impressive length, moaning as you take the first few inches. He felt so good, filling you so completely and stretching out your tight entrance. He throws his head back onto the couch and groans as you take him, squeezing your hips tightly.

The sounds he makes when he’s getting pleased goes straight to your head. You love the way he groans as you move slowly on him. You never knew you could be so attracted to the sound of a man getting pleased. You take more of him inside you and cry out his name, overwhelmed it can be feeling this good.

“You feel so good, honey. You like how my cock feels inside you?” He groans into your ear. You gasp as his hips move up into you, stuffing more of his length inside of you.

“Yes, oh fuck yes,” you cry out.

You move faster on him, wanting more of him and feeling your walls fluttering each second. His eyes watch how your breasts bounce as you’re riding him, drunk at the very sight of you. You close your eyes, overwhelmed with all the sensations he’s giving you and those eyes only make it worse and worse.

Your hips grind at the base of his cock and you both whimper. Your clit rubs at the base of him and you feel your walls start to clench around him. You ride him harder, chasing the high of your orgasm. You look back into his eyes, desperate for him to help you.

“E-Elvis… oh please,” you beg.

“Come darlin’, I wanna feel you come for me,” he groans as he snaps his hips into you, causing his cock to get deeper inside you.

You whimper in agony, not being able to hold on much longer. His hands are back on your hips and help you move more. Your breathing is ragged and your vision is blurry, you thrust a few more times on him and you feel your body shudder hard. Your walls squeeze around his length and cry out his name like he’s your saving grace. He groans with you, loving how good you feel around him. He helps you rock your hips into him more, making you come more than you ever have in your life. Your head feels dizzy and your body feels like it’s floating. You never knew a man could make you feel this good.

You keep riding him and don’t want to stop. He was still making these sinful sounds that sent a pulse straight to your pussy as you hear him getting pleased by you. He bites his lower lip as he stares at you, beaded sweat gathering at his temples and his breathing becoming more frantic.

“Ah, honey you feel so damn good. I need to come now,” he says gruffly. He picks you up off of him and has you stand in between his open legs. He grabs his cock in his hand once more and starts to jerk himself off, staring at you with need. You wanted to touch him again, feel the warmth of his length fill your hand. You boldly get on your knees and take his hand off of himself. You wrap your small hand around him and his eyes roll back in his head. Your wetness covered his length and made it easy to move your hand on him. You angle his length toward your chest and he bucks his forward and falls apart. His seed comes out in thick, hot, spurts and lands on your chest. He groans loudly and cusses under his breath with each stroke of your hand.

“Oh yes honey, yes,” he moans.

He’s trying to calm down and regain his normal breathing but your thumb continues to tease his extra sensitive head. He groans in agony, loving and hating how you’re playing with him.

“God honey I-I-I ain’t never felt so good,” he sighs. “Come here,” he says opening his arms to you.

You get up and sit on his thigh, your spilling arousal making a mess on him. You wince when you feel the wetness spread on him and look up at him with an innocent smile.

“Sucha messy lil’ girl hmm?” He teases.

“Mhmm, you’re quite messy too,” you quip, looking down at your chest with him covering it.

He laughs amused, “Well, you felt too good what can I say,” he says cutely, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“I had to say thank you in some way for letting me take some pictures of you,” you say shyly.

“Oh, you didn’t need to, but I’m so thankful you did,” he winks.

You kiss each other more, reveling in this moment together, not wanting it to end so soon. But you knew he had other places to be, you couldn’t keep him in here forever.

“I don’t want to keep you from your day. The whole town is so happy you’re here,” you smile.

“Thanks, honey. It’s nice to be celebrated in sucha nice way,” he says caressing your face, “but this might have been my favorite thing I got today.” He says cutely.

“And what’s that?” You ask smartly.

“You, my new favorite reporter.”

Tagging:

@powerofelvis @burninlovebutler

@neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @loving-elvis @theresalwaysep

@prompted-wordsmith@sillybookmarks @dkayfixates @ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog.@myradiaz@tacozebra051

@thatbanditqueen

@18|kpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf @eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers @idontwanttoputanything @ohjustpeachy

@elvisalltheway101 @austinsmutler @kingdomforapony

@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rjmartin11 @that-hotdog @louisejoy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8

@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69

@mh777ep1938 @50sexyshadesfashionista

@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs

#elvis presley #elvis fans #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presely smut #elvis smut #elvis x you #elvis x y/n #elvis x reader #50s elvis #elvisaaronpresley #elvis imagine #elvis fic #elvis fluff

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breelandwalker · 1 year ago

Text

Simple Spell - Full Moon Wish Jar

Intent: To harness the power of the lunar cycle for the manifestation and fulfillment of wishes.

Materials:

Small Jar with tight-fitting lid

Chime candle & fire source

Oil for sealing

Herbs and Items representing your wish

Ideal Timing: Waxing or Full Moon

Find a clear space to work. Make sure it’s free of fire hazards. If possible, try to work near a window through which you can see the moon. (If you don’t have one, that’s all right too, since you’ll be setting the jar out for the moonlight when finished.) Light your candle, focus your intentions, and get to work.

Select herbs and trinkets which fit inside the jar to represent your wish. For example, if your wish is for money or prosperity, you might include coins or small craft gems. If your wish is for health, you might include vitamin pills or a charm representing medicine. Check your books for herbs or crystals that correspond to your wish as well. This is your wish - make the spell your own. The contents of the jar can be whatever you want.

Use the materials that resonate best with you, but remember that your focused intention is the most important component of all. If desired, you can write your wish on a dried leaf or a piece of paper to give the spell a clear direction to work in.

Some common plants associated with wish-making include:

Bamboo

Bay Leaf

Blue Violet

Dandelion Seeds

Dogwood Petals

Nutmeg

Peppermint

Sage Leaf (any color)

Sunflower Petals or Seeds

Once your jar is complete, drip three drops of wax from the candle into the jar and circle the mouth of the jar three times with the oil to seal the charm. Then cap the jar and seal it with wax. Leave your thumbprint in wax on top of the lid. Place the jar somewhere that it will be touched by the light of the full moon and leave it overnight.

The jar should work for about a month, or slightly longer if you’re working with a supermoon. When the next full moon rolls around, you can recharge the jar by leaving it out overnight again, or make a new jar with a new wish.

Recipe suggestions under the cut. (And if you like this spell, you'll love my books!)

Happy Witching! 🌕💜

Health, Wealth, & Happiness

Lavender

Rosemary

Rice

Bay Leaf

Juniper Berries

Apple Wood Chip or Apple Seeds

Seal with Breath

Protection

Rosemary

Basil

Sea Salt or Table Salt

Holly Leaf

Juniper Berries

Seal with Sage or Dragon's Blood Oil

Healing

Basil

Echinacea

Horehound

Lavender

Hyssop

Seal with Basil Oil

Luck & Success

Clover Blossom

Galangal Root

Rosemary

Sassafras

Allspice Berries

Seal with Amber Oil

Money-Draw

Rice

Allspice

Orange Peel

Juniper Berries

Rosemary

Seal with Orange Oil

Love

Rose Petals

Apple Wood Chip

Lavender

Basil

Cherry Blossoms or Cherry Stones

Seal with Rose Oil

Jinx Remover

Sea Salt or Table Salt

Coffee Grounds

Rosemary

Sage (any type)

Black Peppercorns

Seal with Vinegar

#witchcraft #witchblr #witch community #witch tips #spells #lunar magic #moon magic #jar spells

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elden-hicks · 8 months ago

Text

A note for the fellow strugglers in TS1

Hey, it's Seth! I know how frustrating TS1 can be (considering it's age and being the first game in the franchise), so I am here to introduce a list of personal must have mods and programs, which I always use whenever I re-install the game to make it more user-friendly. The list itself is quite short, actually, since it only consists of my personal gameplay choice mods. So there's no building objects, deco, skins and heads there.

MODS AND CC

This calendar will report the day of the month to your sims and -- and this is amazing -- even introduce a concept of days off. Sims should have about every 6th and 7th day off. - THE ABSOLUTE MUST HAVE. It's in the painting section and costs 15 simoleons. Works a bit wonky with children, but otherwise a very useful mod to have.

Call work/give interview job phone plugins to give your sim a day off. - I use those mostly when sims have to take care of the baby.

A family mod by Gothi_family_4ever. - another must have in my collection, introduces the familial relationships in game! No more inappropriate relationships between relatives. It's a 0 simoleon painting, which you can delete once you've done.

A hacked frigde mod by the same author. - allows your sims to put their food into the refrigirator, call the household members for the meal, and requires the usage of products (like meat and in-game vegetables) in order to cook a dish instead of insta-paying. You kinda have to build a grocery shop for your sims, so they could buy the required products, I prefer to install the stalls into the pre-existing farm shop in Old Town area. P.S DON'T FORGET TO READ THE INSTRUCTIONS FOR THE INSTALLING BEFORE DRAGGING ANY FILE. As much as I love this mod, I don't, for example, use their cereal add-on.

The Elixir ExpressiBuy Computer. - a computer that allows you to buy any in-game buyable product (like vacation gifts, grocery, tonics, etc etc) in stock. They won't magically appear overnight but would be brought by a special courier npc. It also allows your sim to research logic, creativity, culinary and mechanical skills. I'd also recommend diving further into their site, since they have a lot of cool and unique gameplay content as well!

MagiCo's Bookshelf of Dimensional Storage - the official Maxis item, that was in the 'Get Cool Stuff' section. Allows your sims to keep their magic coins and ingrediends in special bookshelf storage, I mostly use it so the kids could get the ingredients for their spells from the adults. It is in the Magic section, btw

The Magic Mirror - the only outright cheat object that I have in my possesion. This mirror refreshes your sims needs, builds skills, friends, stardom, etc. Saves headaches when you are not in the mood to fullfill your sims' mood, ha-ha.

PROGRAMS

SimEnchancer 3D - basically a program that allows you to change the basic sim's attributes, including their heads and bodytypes. If you are familiar with TS2's SimPE, you'd have the idea how it works. NOTE: if you have to run your TS1 game as an administrator, you'd have to open it up in the same vein as well. And don't forget to backup your UserData files when you are working with it, just in case!

The Sims Creator - the official Maxis program for players to create some basic skins content. The program is only suitable to work with head and skins textures and not the meshes! Likewise, if you have to open the game as an administrator, you'd have to do the same with that program.

NEIGHBORHOODS

This section for the fellow premade enjoyers out there, who mostly played TS2 before and decided to give the local premades a chance as well

Here you can download the original UserData 1 and 2 if you want to reset your neigborhoods as they were if you had already played the neighborhood before and want to start anew. The Sims Wiki also gives you an instruction for how to do so.

And here you can download the additional Maxis families like The Hatfield, The Maximus, The Mashuga, The Snooty, The Jones and that weird agent White House familes. For some reasons, some of them refused to function in my game, so I had to install the empty houses and recreate them by hand, using the SimEnchancer and Wikia to give them appropriate skills and careers.

OTHER

Sims 1 Alternative UI - refreshes your game by a margin. I really recomend this one!

Well, that's basically it! I hope, my list would help you as well!

#the sims 1 #sims 1 #ts1 #ts1 cc #the sims 1 mod #old town

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emeritusemeritus · 5 days ago

Note

hi hun, i have a story idea for you, reader and fred weasley if that's alright. reader is pregnant and is due to have her baby on new year's eve but she goes into early labour alone after an argument with fred and gives birth on christmas eve just as fred arrives to make up with her⁷

Hi Anon! Wow when I tell you this has consumed me for days, it’s taken so long to write but I just couldn’t stop! Side note, the name of Fred and Reader’s child is a name I’ve loved since I was a kid and finally got to use it in a fic where it fit perfectly. Hope you enjoy! 🖤

Warnings: pregnancy and childbirth. Graphic descriptions of pain and labour but not of actual birth. Fast labour, precipitous labour. Reader has the pregnancy emotions. arguments and shouting, minor swearing. Reader hits Fred in the arm. Molly Weasley being the OG midwife. I may have some unresolved birth trauma of my own apparently. Happy ending I promise. Not beta read or spell checked.

Word count: 5.5k

Hark now hear the angels sing [Fred Weasley]

"And... that is the last one, we are officially ready for Christmas!"

You beam as you turn towards Fred, having tied the last bow on the last gift you had to wrap. You look at the pile of gifts and smile, partially because it meant that you no longer had to wrap a single other thing but mostly because it was a stack of gifts for your loved ones. You'd be going to the Burrow tomorrow for Christmas Eve to spend a big family Christmas back at the Weasley home and had made sure that not a single person would be missed in the gift exchange.

It was December 23rd and you couldn't be more excited for the holidays. It had snowed overnight making everything seem so much more magical and it would be the last Christmas as a couple before the little one arrived.

With one final proud look towards your pile, you gather the scissors and tape into the little bag to store them and tried to stand up from your place on the floor, realising quickly that it probably wasn't the best idea to wrap the gifts on the floor at 39 weeks pregnant. You wince at the sharp pain that runs down the length of your back at any form of movement and momentarily swallow your pride as you call out your husband.

"Little help?" You asked Fred who was sat on the sofa in your little home, tinkering with a string of lights that just didn't seem to want to work. He looks up and starts chuckling at your pathetic attempts at getting up and stretches his hand out for you to take. He lifts you with ease, something you're very impressed by factoring in your current size and giggle when he places a delicate kiss onto your nose. His hand wraps around your waist, his palm pressed against the curve of your belly with his thumb stroking the stretched skin through your T-shirt.

"Did we wrap anything for Fred jr?" He asks, smirking at you with those mischief filled eyes that you love so much.

"No. Mainly because there is, and will be, no such person."

"Oh come on sweetheart, don't you want a tiny little me running around?" His eyebrows jump up and down for effect, fingers still lovingly stroking your bump.

"I'm hoping for a George," you deadpan, breaking into a laugh when he suddenly pulls you gently towards him by tickling your side. "Anyway, she's a girl."

"Oh yeah? Mother's intuition?" Fred teases, his eyes gazing over your bump as if he's trying to see something that's not there, like an obvious clue of what gender your baby will be.

"Something like that," you smile, reaching up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his smiling lips.

Suddenly, you pull away from Fred with a brief push to his chest, showing your panicked face and the tears that are starting to well in your eyes, all glimmer of happiness gone.

"Princ-."

"I didn't get her anything!" You suddenly cry out, cutting Fred off as he notices the rather sudden change in your demeanour, your voice trembling as the feeling of complete grief consumes you. "What if she comes early and we didn't get her anything? She'll think that we don't love her! Or she'll think that Santa forgot her!"

Tears are streaming down your face now, your breaths coming quicker and quicker as guilt and shame fill your mind. What kind of mother doesn't buy her own baby a Christmas gift?

"Between the cot, the pram and the clothes we've bought for them, plus not to mention the entire house we bought after finding out they were on the way, I'd say they've had enough."

The glare that you shoot at Fred is enough to silence him instantly, the venomous look in your eyes rivalling his own mothers as he quickly realised this is not a time to make jokes.

"This little one isn't due until after Christmas," he says with a much gentler tone now, placing his hand back onto your bump. "They don't need a Christmas present, they'll already have everything they need when they pop out." He regrets his choice of words the second your eyes shoot up to his, knowing that 'pop' made it sound like an easy thing to do, which he'd been warned from almost every female member of his family that it was far from easy.

"When our baby's born," he says, trying again. "They'll have me and their beautiful mummy. And a whole family that loves them, what else could they need?"

Surprisingly, his words do offer comfort and a wave of relief washes over you as you feel calmed by the idea that the baby really did have everything they would need.

"Sorry," you say, feeling a fresh wave of shame taking over you at your slight overreaction, but Fred steps in again to give you a tight squeeze.

"Already the best mum," he whispers, rocking you gently as you stand holding each other, the Christmas lights illuminating the room in a magical display. You feel a little wiggle in your tummy and smile to yourself, your hand slipping down to cradle the spot where you could feel your little one stretching and rolling.

Everything was set for your arrival at the Burrow in the morning, the suitcase was packed with a mixture of your clothes and Fred's, everything down to your spare toothbrush. The gifts were wrapped and the cookies you'd baked earlier that mornings had been placed into a cute metal tin with a bow, placed on the table beside the front door so that you wouldn't forget them.

"Want me to load the car now?" Fred asks, poking his head around the bedroom door.

"I can help," you offer, only to be shut down a moment later by your husband.

"You will do not such thing," he says firmly, though his eyes are soft. "You are going to park your gorgeous little bum down onto the nearest, softest surface and rest."

"But."

"Doctor's orders princess," he winks, making you smile and relent, though you were hardly going to turn down the offer of sitting down for a while before bed, knowing you'd have an early start in the morning. Your back was twinging with discomfort, a crampy feeling radiating between your pelvis and your hips that made you curse yourself for the stupid idea of wrapping presents on a hard floor.

You walked downstairs to grab a warm drink and sit on the sofa with the hope of a warm fire and a Christmas film, stopping to peek out of the Christmas light filled window to watch Fred trying to fit all the presents in the boot of the car. Since you were so far into your pregnancy, almost every magical transportation option was now deemed unsafe, leaving you with only a handful of options for reaching the Burrow. Percy had very graciously secured a ministry car for you to borrow over the holidays, a fact that he was insistent upon repeating whenever it was even vaguely mentioned in conversation, including the precarious nature of securing the car during the ministry's busiest season. Regardless of your brother in laws self importance, you were thankful for his gesture and though the drive would be long, you were actually looking forward to it. You'd prepped snacks, both muggle and magical, had ensured to the point of obsession that the radio was fixed upon the muggle Christmas station so that your entire drive down would be filled with only the cheesiest Christmas songs and you'd even prepped some hot chocolate for the drive, placing two matching Christmas travel cups beside the kettle ready to make just before you left.

A loud crash pulled your attention right back to Fred as you watched him scrambling onto his feet, an array of once neatly wrapped packages on the floor around him. He looks around nervously before catching sight of you in the window, eyes widening, before he attempts to pick up the dropped presents.

Instantly you were moving to the door, your mind spiralling at the idea that they might be broken or wet from the snow, or if Fred was hurt in the skirmish.

"Are you okay?" You ask slightly breathlessly as you scramble to the door, trying to place your shoes on as quickly as you could.

"Sweetheart stay inside, it's icy and you're not coming out here until I can clear it," he says holding up a hand, eyes fixed on your bump as if you accentuate his words.

"What happened?" You ask, trying to steal a glance around his body to look for any damage to the presents that he was slowly picking up, stacking them high in his arms as he attempts to talk to you through a vision blocking stack of presents.

"Well I was trying to balance these ones and the bottom one slipped."

"You can't stack that many! No wonder they bloody fell!" You say, anger simmering under the surface as you watch more and more presents dangerously wobbling in his arms, swaying with the wind and from every movement he makes. "Stop stacking them so high."

"I can do it."

"Obviously you can't!" You snap, feeling the anger rising now from his obvious lack of care to the gifts that you had so painstakingly picked out and wrapped. "What if they're all broken?!"

"They're not all broken," he snarks.

"All? You mean there's broken ones?!" You exclaim, hardly able to push down your anger anymore. You and Fred hardly every argued, but when you did it was almost always a big one that lasted no more than five minutes before you were making up, sometimes longer if he was in the mood to sulk. Uncaring about the ice, you step outside and rush over to the back of the car where Fred continues to pick up the last of the presents from the ground, cringing at what follows when he picks up the very last one.

The telltale sound of damaged box fills your ears at a painfully ironic moment, the sound so obviously being something broken, shattered with the pieces rattling about inside. You gasp as you look upon the misshapen box, seeing the distinctive green wrapping paper all torn and wilted from the snow, knowing instantly what was inside, undoubtedly shattered beyond repair.

You're completely heartbroken at the sight before you and more angry with Fred than you ever remember being.

"You stupid git!" You say, hitting his arm as he turns to you with a look of apologetic shame, though you don't even remotely fall for it, too enraged to give a single thought to his feelings. "I told you that you couldn't carry that many! Now look what you've done!" The box falls from his hands again and lands in a heap on the floor, an ominous rattling crying out all the way down until it crashes upon making contact with the snow.

"It's just a present," he mumbles, trying to downplay the situation as he turns back towards the car, away from your body. His words and aversion to the situation only fuel your anger in the moment, seeing visions of his younger self so uncaring for the consequences of his actions even if it both directly and indirectly affected others.

"It's not just a present you git! It was Fleur's only Christmas present! You have no idea how long it took me to find it," you say, tears welling up in your eyes again as the anger turns to sorrow.'you knew how much she adored snow-globes, something from her childhood that she'd told you about in great detail one night at the Burrow. You'd gone searching around muggle antique stores for something within the brief and had been completely overwhelmed by the beauty of the snowglobe you found for her. It was a little over the budget but you didn't care, knowing how much she would love the beautifully ornate pink and gold filigree on the side, the tiny carousel horses inside that spun around with fine gold glitter covering the beautiful scene. It was decadent and beautiful, and now shattered in a box on your front drive, the glittery water leaking out of a large crack in the box and onto the snow.

"Just give her one of Ginny's," he says defensively, the hint of a shrug ghosting his coat-covered shoulders.

"Oh yeah perfect, because I'm sure she'd love a mug that says Mrs Potter to be!"

You march away from him in a foul mood, stomping your way back into the house as you close the door with a resounding slam, the wreath on the door quivering with the force.

It was the evening before Christmas Eve, you didn't have anything else to give her and you certainly couldn't show up empty handed for only one person, especially one that had become a good friend to you and who had admittedly struggled to fit in with the family at first. You felt wretched and suddenly wanted to stay at home, the idea of going to the Burrow now making you feel physically sick.

You winced as the pain in your back suddenly increased, making you grab ahold of the table beside the door for support as you felt it radiate through your back and settle into your pelvis.

"Look, why don't we just drop by somewhere on the way to mums? See if we can get a replacement." Fred says as he steps through the door, inevitably trailing snow throughout the hallway. You straighten up, recovering from the cramps and turn to him in disbelief, fresh annoyance consuming you again.

"It can't be replaced it was antique!"

"Well something similar then," he mumbles. You don't even fight his words, realising that he didn't have any semblance of idea of how hard you'd worked to make everything perfect for Christmas.

"You haven't even apologised," you huff, kicking off your shoes and wandering towards the kitchen, cringing at the pain that still remains in your lower back.

"What for?!" He asks, sounding mystified. "Hardly my fault I slipped, ice is icy funnily enough."

"Oh piss off Fred, you know it wasn't the ice," you spit out, reaching for a mug as you flick the kettle on again.

"I've had enough of this," he says angrily, marching right back out of the hall towards the front door that slams shut behind him. The silence that follows is almost suffocating as you stand looking at the place he stood only moments before.

The tears flowed freely now, though the gut wrenching sobs had stopped eventually. It had been around half an hour since your argument with Fred when you walked over to the door to attempt to reconcile, not wanting the stupid argument to ruin the last night in your home before tomorrows journey. It was getting late and you wanted to go to bed, exhausted both physically and emotionally and knew that stopping off somewhere tomorrow for a replacement gift for Fleur would only make your wake up call earlier. You sucked in a sharp breath when you stood up from the sofa, feeling a sharp pain shoot right up your pelvis and down your leg right to your toes, the cramping immediately resuming. You let out a few steady breaths and grabbed hold of your bump as if to help calm the pain and waddled towards the door.

When you saw that the car was no longer outside, with no sign of Fred anywhere and only tyre marks in the snow as proof, you knew instantly that he had left. Tears began to prickle at your eyes and you closed the door slowly with a weak shove, the tears coming once again. Fred had never left during an argument, had never just upped and decided to flee. You felt miserably guilty for your overreaction, even if it did seem deserved, and wished more than anything that you could just fix it and go to bed.

You went to make another cup of tea, needing the warmth and the comfort from the drink, the fire having long since died and the room feeling uncommonly chilly. A sharp pain suddenly radiated through your lower abdomen, like a crushing pain that tightened around your hips like a belt that was too small and you gasped, clutching hold of the counter as you waited for it to disappear. During your scramble to reach out for something solid to rest upon, the mug had been knocked to the side and you watched as your favourite mug tumbled to the floor, splintering at your feet into little ceramic shards.

The pain was increasing rather than disappearing and you felt the tightness all over your bump now. When it finally began to abate after a few seconds, your legs felt wobbly and you felt shaken, heart pounding and breathing unsteady as you tried to calm yourself. You barely managed to make it over to the sofa when the pain started again, radiating through your body with increasing intensity that felt like a wave slow building until it crashed upon the sand. You gripped the arm of the sofa as the apex of the pain consumed your body again, this time lasting even longer than before.

When the pain peaked, forcing you onto your hands and knees on the floor in front of the sofa, you realised with a sheer sense of panic that you were completely alone. You couldn't use the floo, couldn't apparate and now you also had no car to get you anywhere or to anyone. Your owl was delivering a message to the Burrow and still hadn't returned, clearly having flown to Wheezes instead, leaving you owl-less. You took long steady breaths when you could, relishing in the few moments of relief that came between your pains. It couldn't be labour, it just couldn't, even though logically you knew that it was more than possible as babies came when they were ready, not when you wanted them to.

You sighed when you felt another wave of pain starting in your extremities, rapidly increasing to a crushing pain around you back and in your last parts. The pain made you breathless and you could hardly believe how quickly things had escalated as you knelt on the floor trying to keep yourself calm but failing miserably in the middle of what you absolutely would not believe, but logically knew, was labour. You choked on a sob when you thought of Fred, that he'd left you at your most vulnerable time, that he'd miss the birth of your child and that you'd have to do this all alone. The plans you'd made for your birth were now completed ruined and you would no longer have the support of Molly, who had been overjoyed at being asked to support you. She was more than just your mother-in-law and after birthing seven children, there was no one else you trusted to guide you through labour. But now completely alone and trapped at home, would you survive? Women died in childbirth all the time, especially when birthing alone. What if the baby didn't survive? What if the cord was around their neck and you didn't know?

Almost like a switch had gone off in your mind, you focused on the task at hand, pushing all fear inducting thoughts out of your head and focused instead of what would be needed if you were going to do this alone. Warm towels, water, somewhere comfy for you to labour, somewhere warm and soft for the baby, baby clothes and a multitude of blankets. You looked towards the stairs and took a deep breath, trying your hardest to time yourself so that in the brief moments of reprieve you could climb the stairs to fetch what you'd need.

It took much longer than expected to collect everything you'd need, having to stop multiple times to cling onto the nearest surface and ride out the wave of pain that you could tell was getting worse and closer together. You'd barely made it down the stairs when another wave of pain hit you, making you stumble down the last step. You cried out at the searing pain that shot through you at the inadvertent step you'd taken, a lighting bolt of agony coursing through your pelvis, around your bump and settling deep in your groin. Your breath was shaky as you tried to recover from the pain but it didn't wane this time and instead focused purely in the centre of your pelvis. You notice by chance that it's past midnight now, the jingle of the little Christmas-themed muggle clock taunting you as to the announcement of a new day. Christmas Eve and you were alone, left to give birth entirely alone.

It takes everything you gave no to cry out, focusing instead on taking deep breaths and emitting a low groan as a way of vocalising your pain. You eventually make it back to the sofa, surrounded by all the things you'd need and allow yourself a little sob as you look at the equipment surrounding you, like an ominous scene of foreboding. Whatever motivation and strength you had previously momentarily slipped away and you allowed yourself to cry, both for the unrelenting pain and for your heartbreaking situation.

You let out another cry when a pain much stronger and more direct than before hits you full on, a crushing feeling from the inside that makes you feel lightheaded. You scramble to look down when you suddenly feel something wet beneath you, bringing your hand up to your legs to try and decipher what had caused it. You fight through another pain to pry off your wet bottoms and cast them aside, praying that you don't see any blood between your thighs. It's clear, the liquid that drips down your thighs, small sudden gushes turning to small drops as you battle to get a towel underneath you.

You're on all fours again, trying your hardest to take stabilising breaths when you hear the sound of the front door open.

"Fred!" You cry out in hope and desperation, the wail that falls from your lips an accumulation of the physical and emotional pain. It's the scream that you had wanted so desperately to let out as your body burns internally.

He's beside you in seconds and couldn't have been quicker if he'd apparated between the door and the living room. Your head falls forward as another contraction takes over, the sudden need to push consuming every instinct within you.

"I'm here sweetheart, I'm here it's okay," he coos, his hand instinctively reaching for your lower back as you circle your hips, trying desperately to bring relief.

You look up into his eyes and can see that he looks completely torn, eyes washing over your form as his mind whirls trying to formulate a plan. He looks completely overwhelmed under the surface, as much as he's pretending to be calm, panicked by the sudden chance in circumstances.

"Look sweetheart, I need to fetch mum, I'll be back in five minutes tops, I'll apparate right there and right back, can you handle that?"

He barely gets the words out before you scramble to reach out for him, clutching the bottom of his shirt desperately as you cringe from the movement of your torso.

"No please Freddie, please don't leave me alone again," you beg, already crying from the thought alone as you cling into him, tears streaming down your face. You're terrified of being alone again, desperate for him to stay by your side. You're scared and in pain, unable to think clearly.

"I won't leave," he says with a nod, trying to calm you, his brows knitting together as he tries to think of a backup. It's too late to drive you to St Mungo's and there's no way to side along apparate with you safely, especially now that labour had begun.

He does the only thing he can think of and pulls out his wand to cast his patronus, watching with a dwindling sense of hope that it would reach its destination quickly.

He pockets his wand again and turns his full attention back to you, trying to push some pressure into your back to relieve the pain in anyway he can, gently reminding you to take slow and deep breaths. There's so much that he needs to say to you, to apologise for, but that can wait until later, knowing that his focus had to be on you right now.

"Fred I need to push," you say with staggered breaths, a thin sheet of sweat covering your forehead.

"I know sweetheart, just a couple more minutes okay?" He says, still squatting down beside you. He prays to Merlin and to anyone else that might be listening for this to go well, for his patronus to have worked and failing that, for it to be an easy birth. He wasn't prepared for this, just a prankster turned businessman that had no knowledge of women's bodies beyond putting the baby there... getting it out was a completely different matter.

"That's it sweetheart, you are doing so well, I'm so proud of you," he says, pushing back your hair that had stuck to your sweaty head, reaching for one of the little hand towels towels and enchanting it so that it was wet and cool before rubbing it softly over your forehead. You moan out and he hardly knows if it's because of the cooling sensation or because of the pain, but when you pull his washcloth holding hand back up to your forehead, he's pretty sure he has an idea.

"You are so strong princess, you're doing so well," he coos, trying his hardest to support you in your time of need. Truthfully, he was baffled how your body was doing this. You looked like you were in excruciating pain but yet you still carried on for the sake of the baby, your strength and resilience astounding him.

He jolts when he hears the telltale roar of flames in the fireplace and his heart leaps at the thought, had his patronus worked?

"Where is my, oh my dear!" Molly Weasley steps out of the floo induced flames of their fireplace and directly into the living room, giving herself a good shake as she spots her daughter in law on all fours in obvious labour. She pulls out her wand and casts a spell over herself that cleans off any sign of fireplace soot, then blasts the fireplace so that the regular flames resume to heat the home.

"Oh my dear," she rushes over, moving to kneel beside her daughter in law whose face scrunched up in pain, a silent scream of anguish falling from her lips.

"You should have got me sooner!" She points an accusing finger at her son who looks equal parts guilty and mortified as she strikes your hair out of your face, her eyes flicking between concern and anger between the two of you.

"I... I told him it wouldn't be yet," you stammer, hardly able to form the words. "I need to push!"

"Fred make yourself useful! Just like your father sat idly about, fetch some more towels and pillows from the bed, honestly you men." Molly surges into caring mode and for once Fred does exactly as she says without any backchat or hesitation. Her very presence is reassuring to you and you feel instantly calmed just by having her by your side.

"Well I have to say it, you do make beautiful babies," Molly coos as she looks at the three of you huddled together on the bed. Fred looks tired but peaceful, his arm wrapped protectively around you as your new baby stays latched on to your breast, bundled in soft blankets that her grandma had knitted especially for her. You're exhausted but overwhelmingly happy, and perhaps a little bit shocked by how quickly everything had progressed throughout the day and night.

"Right I'm off, as long as you're all okay? Oh I can't wait to tell your father he'll be overjoyed! I'm only an owl away if you need anything and I mean that, yes?"

"Thank you, for allowing me to experience this. I have a feeling this little one will be my favourite yet," Molly smiles as she leans down to glide her fingers across the little one's cheek lovingly. She looks up to you and smiles warmly, leaning down to give you a kiss on top of your head. "And very well done dear, you did brilliantly."

Fred walks his mother out, knowing that she had never liked apparating and would be using the floo to get home. You can hear their voices as they go downstairs but you can't hear what's being said and you look down at the cooing baby in your arms, watching her closed eyes and quick but steady breaths. She really is perfect, her little button nose, long lashes and tuft of distinctive red hair that was currently hidden beneath her little hat. 10 fingers, 10 toes and a striking resemblance to her dad that after the intense labour you'd just endured felt like a hilarous but tiny smack in the face.

When Fred returns, he's beaming. He pauses, leaning against the doorframe as he looks at the sight before him, his girls.

"How are you feeling sweetheart?" He asks, gently climbing onto the bed beside you.

"Exhausted," you say with a laugh, trying hard not to jiggle the little one too much with your laughter. "But I'm happy."

"Me too. Here, let me take her so you can get some rest."

You want to protest but you're worried your eyes will close at any second even though you're trying your hardest to keep them open, your body just too exhausted. You hand Fred the sleeping baby, passing her over gently like she could shatter at any moment from being so fragile and within moments of your head touching the pillow, you're out like a light.

"Wait till you meet your uncle George, and auntie Ginny, and uncle Percy, and Ron, and Charlie and Bill... there's a lot of them to remember I know, but it's mainly uncle George and Auntie Angelina you have to remember kid. Don't even get me started on the others, aunt Hermione, uncle Harry, auntie Fleur and then there's your granny and grandad."

"Trying to bore her back to sleep with your family tree?" You smile, noticing Fred and your little girl cuddled together in the little armchair in the corner next to her bassinet. He huffs a laugh, turning to you with so much adoration in his eyes that it momentarily leaves you breathless.

"Just getting her up to speed," he smirks, reaching down with his hand to grab her hand gently, "you going to say good morning to your beautiful mummy?" He gently manipulated her hand so that she gives you a little wave and you laugh, sitting up in bed with a slight wince.

"So I guess Fred Jr is off the table now eh?" He says with a wiggle of his eyebrows as he stands up from the chair, bringing your daughter over to you, her face a perfect picture of contentment.

"It was never on the table," you say with a smirk, greedily reaching for your daughter.

"Well you surprised us little one," Fred says to his daughter as she begins to stir. "Thought we'd be naming you something new yearsey, but you're a little Christmas Angel."

As if the concept of time and days had just returned to you, you realise that your daughter was born on Christmas Eve, your own little Christmas miracle.

"Holly?" Fred suggests, your nose scrunching up at the suggestion, not liking how obvious it was.

"What about Evangeline?" You ask, looking down at the sweet face, trying to weight up what name suited her the most. "Nickname Eve or Evie?"

"Evangeline Weasley..." Fred muses, as if trying it out for himself, "I love it." He beams, as if the missing puzzle piece has just slotted in to place.

"Merry Christmas little Evangeline," he coos, watching as she yawns, her eyes opening with a little squint as if by some miracle, answering to her name. Fred kisses you and you're happier than you've felt in a long time, the heartbreak of yesterday long forgotten and forgiven as you celebrate your first Christmas together as a family of 3.

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archangeldyke-all · 8 months ago

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hi angel !! i hope ur doing well.

what do you think sevika would be like with a witchy partner? like a partner whose always slipping crystals into her pockets or using makeup to draw protection sigils on her arm (me lol)

🌕

adorable

disclaimer! i know a bit about witchcraft, being a lesbian and all, but i'm not super familiar with rituals, or cultural practices, so this is all kinda just guessing.

men and minors dni

the thing is... she tries so hard to be a skeptic.

she scoffs every morning when you gently tuck a black crystal into her side satchel, promising it'll protect her.

she rolls her eyes when you talk about astrology or the phases of the moon... like the planets have powers.

and any time she walks in on your burying a candle or some herbs, she just shakes her head and chuckles, then kisses your head and goes about her day.

but... and she fucking hates the fact that it's true... your little potions and spells and whatever else you do... it seems to work.

she asked you one night after she got home, as she was cooking dinner and you were unpacking her satchel for her, why you don't just leave the 'little rock' in overnight, so you don't have to pack it for her every day.

you giggled and explained to her that half the protection is the way you bless it, the symbols you trace into it every morning.

"what kinda symbols?"

"well, i made a special one for you. for when you go to work. that you'll come home safe to me."

and you kinda take her breath away with that answer.

and, worst of all, it seems like it works. each day since you've moved in and started the little morning ritual, she's come home safe and sound, excited to see you.

(she convinces herself it's just the placebo effect, until she comes to terms with the truth when you're too sick one morning to pack her little satchel for her, she forgets the crystal, and gets the shit beat outta her. twice in one day.)

sometimes you anoint her forehead or pulse points with little oils: petals and herbs and other little goodies in the jars. she'll ask what it's for and you'll shrug.

"this one's for peace of mind. you look all far away." you said one night, when you caught on the couch watching tv in the middle of the night.

she was snoring on top of you within minutes.

"this one's for communication." you said on the morning before she asked silco for a raise.

which she ended up getting.

"this one's... well... you'll see." you said mischeviously, before pressing a kiss to her cheek and winking at her.

when she had your ankles by her ears, her strap balls deep inside of you, you giggled and bit her earlobe. "it was an arousal-- ah! arousal oil."

"figures." sevika grunts.

anyways... you know that despite the teasing sevika respects it. she's always bringing you 'cool rocks' for your crystal collection-- you don't have the heart to tell her most of them are just pebbles, so you just add 'em to the shelf. she'll pick up anything and everything that looks a little mystical for you: from cool black matches, to candles whose flames burn different colors, to real crystals, and bones or taxidermied critters.

(she kind of loves the witchy-gothy vibe of it all, loves that there's always candles burning, and incense by the windows-- little jars of goodies and ingredients everywhere. she thinks it's cool. she'll never admit it to you, though.)

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika #sevika smut

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sweetbottletops · 2 months ago

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When Agu said one phase was ending and a new one was beginning I didn't realize the next phase would be putting Aya in the Pain Cave.

Ch 102

It looks like Koga is spending at least part of her juice box lunch periods with the cool kids now.

The bully (he hasn't earned a name) still seems to be mentally in that desk-kabedon Koga delivered earlier. I don't think he actually knows much about music, but he is still firmly stuck in her orbit with the other cool kids. She's got that kind of pull.

Meanwhile the subculture kids are in the hallway. It's easy to forget they aren't the cool kids and typically stuck to each other even before Koga. Narita gets to be included because Exhibit A.

It's always awkward when a friend crosses over genres and samples other groups at school. Even so...Aya is a touch too in the dumps for Chizuru to believe this is just related to Koga spending her lunch period with the norms. "Because of that?"

Chizuru is the drunken master of love gurus. Never misses even when she doesn't know where she's aiming.

Aka: Back in simpler times when Koga was having an existential crisis and being needy and Aya could fill her needs. Now Koga appears to be doing just fine in her identity and even found other people to talk to about music.

A twist of the knife. How the turn tables.

On a superficial level it doesn't seem like a big deal, but they are teenagers so everything is a big deal. Add in the fact Aya is closeted and hasn't been able to openly share her real feelings even to her best friend all this time and it's complicated.

She couldn't even do abstract girl talk at the overnight trip because "Onii-san" was right there among the girls. And her earlier gushing with Chizuru always was hidden behind "Onii-san".

Aya can only talk a bit more openly to Narita and Kanna and even then she's relying on them to fill in the blanks to accept why she's at this extreme level of desperate about Koga.

From Chizuru's POV Aya had never been interested in boy talk until "Onii-san" came into the scene, and "he" has drifted in and out of the scene unnamed like a "boyfriend" from Canada.

But she never pushed the issue. It was girl bonding stuff and something Chizuru had with Aya that was theirs if that makes sense. And then when Koga appeared Aya stopped gushing outside of when Chizuru would bring "him" up. Which was sus...

Chizuru is about to be jump scared with the title of this manga.

v v v

Chizuru is firing in every direction now. Her? Him? You?!!

The readers who had to have it spelled out to them vs the readers who knew. It was yuri all along.

She's hugging HERSELF. Help her!

The extra sad thing is going all the way back to the Radiohead performance it was Koga who reset them as friends.

Aya had an odd reaction to that at the time. Her crush wants to be friends. "There's no other option, right?" She didn't retract her crush after the reveal. It was Koga who downgraded them to friends and she went along with it. And it was fine at the time because it was the same Koga, however they were going to call it, and she got to at least be Koga's favorite and only.

Which isn't the healthiest considering how isolated Koga was, but when that's as close as you think you'll get with someone you like it's not so bad. She's stuck being hyper aware of how close she has the right to be and worries she might overstep and make Koga uncomfortable. What she wants is how close Joe and Kanna are. And that’s something she doesn't think she'll get. So there's the conflict.

Now Koga is the one feeling comfortable as herself in public and Aya is the only one left hiding who she is. From her perspective she thinks Koga doesn't know who she really is or how it will go over if she found out.

Team Chizuru + Nartia have a lot of work ahead of them. But now that they know at least Aya is not totally alone with her feelings anymore.

#the guy she was interested in wasn't a guy at all #arai sumiko #green manga #yuri #manga #the guy she was interested in wasnt a guy at all

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avatarmerida · 7 months ago

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Hey fellow losers I’m back with more beta huntlow fluff. I know I’ve written some Paulina/William stuff before but this is based on the most recent even more beta huntlow we got from the leaked show bible. So we’ve gone from awkward little prince and fumbling quirky girl to feral witch hunter and equally feral creepy plant girl and I also love them too so hope ya like it 💛💚

———

“And if the water boils here how do all the plants live?” William asked, balancing on the fence along Paulina’s garden as she did some maintenance and planted some new seeds they had found in the forest. She never tired of answering his many questions about the demon realm, especially about the flora and fauna.

“The same way they do in the human realm I suppose,” she said with a small shrug. “I think the stems here have more coating than the plants you’ve seen, but a lot of plants close up during the rain to protect their petals.”

“Interesting,” he said, jumping down to look at her work closer. “How do you persuade the ones with teeth not to bite you?”

“I just keep them well feed, they don’t nip unless they’re hungry or scared,” she said. “But feeding them the food that helps keep their teeth healthy is tricky because it smells kinda gross.”

“They can smell it?”

“They sure can.”

“Fascinating,” he marveled, looking at them closer to see if he could understand how.

“Can I ask you a question?” Paulina asked, wiping some stray dirt from her glasses.

“Of course you may,” replied William, sitting on the ground beside her.

“Why are you still so upset with Luz?” She asked, changing topics. She saw his body language shift.

“I think it’s very clear why,” he said softly.

“You know she didn’t wake you up early on purpose,” she said gently. “She’s really a very nice person, and she genuinely thought she was helping you. Is there anything she can do to prove she’s sorry?”

“I’m not upset that she woke me from my slumber, I'm upset that she was able to,” sighed William, hugging his knees.

“What do you mean? Do you not want to be here?” Paulina asked, hoping it wasn’t the case. Selfishly, she liked having him around.

“When it happened… my uncle told me I’d awaken to a better world. That the suffering and confusion I was around would be gone. That I’d be awoken gently by my…”

“By who?”

“… by my true love.” He said under his breath, almost as though he was embarrassed to utter the words.

“Oh, so you think that Luz is your-.”

“Ew! Bleh, no!” He exclaimed in disgust. “Er, sorry that was rude. No, no I don’t think that. But I think she able to awaken me the way she did because I don’t have a true love.”

“Oh,” Paulina breathed, seeing the genuine hurt slip though the cracks as he tried to keep his lip from trembling. She ventured this was the first time he had said the sentiment aloud. “Or maybe the spell just wore off.”

“Or maybe it just gave up,” he said with a hurt chuckle. “I mean, it makes sense; maidens didn’t favor me before, why would they ever start now? I was better off sleeping forever, giving the world some peace.”

“William, don't say that,” she said, taking his hand. He didn’t flinch at her dirt covered hands.

“It’s true, is it not?” He sighed, focusing on her knuckles decorated with grass stains and tiny scars from the thorns she did not fear. “I cause you nothing but trouble despite you showing me nothing but kindness.”

“Well technically I did threaten to feed you to my plant,” she reminded him. It was certainly a unique first impression.

“Twas for my own good,” he said. “Plus knowing you as I do now, I know it was merely a jest to teach me a lesson. You are kind and patient and I’m just a nuisance.”

“No you’re not!” She insisted. “Okay, well maybe a little at first, but you’ve changed! You’re still learning and adapting, growth doesn’t happen all at once overnight.” She gestured to her garden as proof, a mixture of progress and color. “Love is the same way, ya know. Usually you have to get to know someone first before you label them as your ‘true love.’” She carefully plucked a vibrant yellow flower and placed it behind his ear.

“So… you don’t believe in love at first sight?” He asked timidly as she went back to her gardening.

He remembered when he first saw her, how there was a rosey spotlight around her like a halo. How time slowed down so he could soak in every detail of her beauty, memorize her voice and her movements before reality set back in and with it brought a new breed of confusion. He didn’t know better, but upon reflection the whole ordeal felt like what the poetry he had read in secret during his studies labeled as the phenomenon of love at first sight. His eyes had not seen such a thing before and ever since.

“Hmmm, not really?” Paulina pondered. “I think it’s different for everyone, but I also don’t think I’d want to marry someone I don’t know who kissed me while I was sleeping.”

“That is a fair point,” William chuckled, leaning over to help her make another hole in the ground for her next round of seeds. “You’re correct, as usual.”

“Exactly, and I’m also correct when I say if you want to fall in love then you will,” said Paulina. “You just have to give it time, it’s not something you can force.”

“You know… much about love then?”

“I mean, my dads really love each other but they didn’t get married the second they met,” she said. “They got to know each other first and they didn’t meet the way they thought they’d meet their spouse. Everyone’s story is different.”

“But it’s also possible that some of us aren’t meant to have a story.”

She couldn’t deny that, but she refused to accept a world where a boy who seemed to cherish love so much wasn’t meant to have it. “Maybe she was able to wake you because she was meant to introduce you to your true love.”

“Perhaps,” he said, his mind fully focusing on how she had been the first person Luz had introduced him to. He couldn’t complain about that logic.

“It also might help if you had a crush first,” added Paulina, carefully pressing the dirt back into the ground as though tucking it into bed.

“Like a duel?”

“Oh well, a crush is like… what comes before someone is your true love,” she tried to explain without divulging how complicated they could truly get. “Like, having positive feelings about someone, and wanting to spend time with them without, like, getting married after a few days. Just like thinking of them romantically.”

“I think I may… have formed this crush.”

“Oh! On who?” She asked with enthusiasm that made him quiet. Paulson wore her heart on her sleeve, but he had trouble expressing anything that was not deeply rooted in fact. Or at least, the facts he had been feed. A few moments ago he didn’t have the words to describe his feelings let alone validation their were sinful. He didn’t know the proper way to share them.

“Wel… um…”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” said Paulina quickly, sensing the answer was hard for him to bring forth. “I didn’t consider it could be someone from your original time. I’m sorry if that was too forward, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“And… not wanting to share it doesn’t make it wrong?” William asked.

“Of course not,” she assured him. “You’re allowed to have secrets, and if you want to tell me eventually that’s fine too; you decide when and if you’re ready. I mean, I’ve had tons of crushes on very different people but sometimes they’re just something small, ya know? Sometimes they take awhile to figure out and sometimes they go away on their own, each one is different.”

“Has there ever been one you weren’t able to escape?”

“Well, I don’t know if I would word it like that,” she chuckled. “Having a crush is supposed to be fun, it’s exciting. And sometimes scary, but that also makes it fun. Like a rollercoaster.”

“A roller… coaster?”

“Oh yeah I forgot,” she giggled. “I’ll have to show you one.”

“A… crush?”

“No a rollercoaster,” she said.

“Ah, haha yes of course,” he laughed nervously, painfully aware that he could not seem to stop. “So w-what does one do if they don’t wish to have the crush dissolved?”

“Well I guess you could ask the person you have a crush on to go on a date with you.”

“And a date is like… a courtship, yes? I would seek to woo them?”

She giggled. “Yes, you would seek to woo them.”

He didn’t know what he said that was so humorous but he’d say it everyday for the rest of his life it meant getting to hear her laugh like that.

“Ah, well then. That’s another obstacle, as I know not the way to do so,” he said with a slight frown. “Especially in this foreign, modern land I feel that any outing I plan would not be up to her standards.”

Paulina’s ears perked, her first suspicion dashed as William made it clear the person he liked was someone he had met since he had awakened, which meant it was more than likely that she knew the person as well.

She wondered how well she knew them.

“I mean, like you said I still have much to learn about this world and this time,” he sighed. “But regardless, I’m still myself and I can’t help but feel as though someone discovering I have this crush for them would be most unwanted.”

“I don’t think so,” said Paulina. “I think they’ll think it’s sweet.”

“Surely you jest,” he scoffed. “You’re kind to spare my feelings but I’m sure if this person was aware of my thoughts regarding them they’d be repulsed and uncomfortable.”

“Well I’m sure they’d be perfectly fine with it,” she insisted. “After getting to know you these last few months I can tell you’re actually really sweet, even if you don’t think so. Give yourself more credit.”

“Oh so if I were to tell you I fancy you and wish to spend my days with you, you wouldn’t find it revolting?” He asked as though it was the most comical thing he could imagine.

“No.”

“Oh.” He said, surprised at how quickly and confidently she replied. He cleared his throat and dared to continue. “S-so if I were to say that I would consider it an honor to hold your hand and escort you anywhere you wish to go, you wouldn’t find it inappropriate?”

“No.”

“A-and if I told you you have the most captivating, soft eyes I’ve ever seen and that they make precious jewels envious you would be… okay with that?”

“Um…” Paulina found herself speechless, struck by his words like they were an arrow destined for her very heart.

“Oh yes of course that sentiment is made of cheese, as you might say.” He laughed, slightly embarrassed. “I should have realized my attempts at poetry were novice at best. I apologize if the example was offensive, I should have-.”

“No, no it was very nice!” she said quickly, not wanting to prevent him from saying such lovely things. “It was a beautiful thought, Will. I think anyone would like to hear that.”

“Truly? Uh, well thank you,” he said, unable to hide the blush that danced across his freckles. “Eh, but I’m sure you hear things such as that daily from your suitors.”

“My suitors?” She repeated with a snort. “Oof, now that’s a good one.”

But William did not find it humorous. “I’m sorry, I’m confused.”

“Well let’s just say when other witches my age notice me it’s usually not for the best reasons,” she said. “Most of them think I’m weird or creepy.”

“My apologies again, I’m still getting accustomed to the colloquialisms of this time, do those terms mean something different now?”

“No, I’m pretty sure they mean the same thing now as they did back then,” she said with a small smile, secretly recalling how when they first met William had a similar impression of her, though in fairness it was more about the witch aspect than her specifically. She wondered when exactly that had changed. “I’ve never been very popular. In fact, after Amity stopped talking to me and until I met Augustus most of my closest friends were plants.”

“Well perhaps it is because those plants have the sense to appreciate being in the presence of a rose.”

It was her turn to blush now. “Well, aren’t you the secret romantic?” She giggled, impressed with how quickly he had provided the response. They sat in silence a moment as William realized he hadn’t complimented her hypothetically this time and that something in her tone had shifted. As much as Paulina was willing to try and spare his feelings, he knew she would not lead him astray in this manner. She would not lie to him about this, but did that mean her words applied to her?

“Miss Park… I have a favor of sorts to ask of you,” he began, taking a deep breath.

“Of course,” she said, and he was taken back by how quickly she had agreed. She didn’t even ask what was in it for her benefit, like he was worthy of her assistance without any bribery.

“I will admit I know little of the courtship rituals from my time and even less about the present ones and I was hoping that you would be willing to help… educate me.”

“Oh yeah?” She said with a smirk, scooting closer to him. “How so?”

He could feel his hands get sweatier under his gloves. “Well, would I perchance be able to take you on an outing I believe suitable for expressing such… feelings,” he said as he cleared his throat as though the word made him dizzy. “And you advise me on if it was a suitable choice? I can compensate you for your time, I’ve been saving the snails I’ve acquired in exchange for my sewing and tailoring skills. We can have a grand collection of treats!”

“That sounds really nice,” said Paulina, adoring the way his full smile was on display and she could see the gap in his teeth without him shying away, too caught up in his own hypothetical excitement. “I would love to go out with you William.”

“Okay, wonderful,” he managed to squeak, and his eyes lit up in a way Paulina had never seen before. “I will uh I shall make all the arrangements! What day favors your schedule?”

“I’m fine with whatever day works best for you.”

“The sooner the better!” He exclaimed, louder than he intended to. He swiftly adjusted his volume. “I-I just mean for research purposes. I look forward to the learning aspect of the evening, heh.”

“I’m excited too,” she said and he couldn’t control the wide grin that consumed his whole face. She began to pat down the dirt to help support the budding bulb she had been keeping an eye on, ready to bloom any day now. “Do you think at the end you might be ready to tell me who you have a crush on?”

“I think that if everything goes as planned… I will be. Yes.”

#huntlow #toh #huntlow fanfiction #beta huntlow #paulliam #Willina #the owl house

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shady-swan-jones · 7 months ago

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Captain Swan Fic Recs are back, baby! - April Edition

Hello, cs friends! It's been like, what, seven years since I last did this? Who's counting. Enjoy the fruits of y'all's labour and some amazing stories. Keep writing, we need you

-Sophie

when Emma falls in love [from the vault] by @spartanguard

Inspired by "When Emma Falls In Love" by Taylor Swift, part of series based on songs from the vault

everyone's wondering why Emma doesn't screw the hot bartender already, it's not like he hasn't given signs. but with emma's romantic past it's not like she's throwing chances to anyone, scruffily attractive as they may be. yet, it's not her past that's worrisome. will they break the curse?

rated T | 6.2k words | AO3

“Didn’t you pay attention to trigonometry, Jones?” she balances her weight on the stick, languidly, in a way that ticks something into his already drowsy brain. “Is this the part where you offer to teach me, Swan?” he says, advancing to her.

Read on Ao3 or ff.net

I, lost, was passing by - by @dykelilypage

Five years ago, Emma's father had given her a necklace for her birthday. It was a beautiful ruby encased in a golden chain, that sat heavy on her chest. It was safe to say then, that Emma was more than a little bit pissed off to discover that it had been stolen from right around her neck. The one stroke of luck to the whole ordeal was that she knew exactly who had taken it. Killian Jones. rated E | 6267 words

love scare by @exhaustedpirate

it's a little canon-compliant one-shot that i place during the six weeks of peace, more specifically, like a day or so before 4B rated G | 922 words | ao3

Expecting a Secret [3/3] by @walviemort

Summary: After the events of 3x19, Killian is at his lowest after being rejected by Emma. When Snow’s labor turns out to be a false alarm, Zelena offers Killian a deal: she’ll leave the Charmings alone…if he gives her the baby she needs for her spell instead. There’s just one hitch: he has to keep it a secret. At least it will only take 10 days, right?

The Heart of a Villan (5/5) by @beckettj

There are only two people that can make me care about football: Ted Lasso and this. Words: 6181 ~ AO3

Perilous Harbor by @veryverynotgoodwrites

Emma Swan is heir apparent to her parents' kingdom in the Enchanted Forest, and a powerful wielder of light magic. This makes her the most wanted woman in the realm, not only for marriage, but for leverage against the king and queen. While her parents have been able to keep her safe so far, an attack is launched on Princess Emma that leaves her no choice but to seek the protection of her worst enemy - Killian Jones, infamous captain of the Jolly Roger and his pirate crew. ao3 in progress 19/23

a work of art by @sotangledupinit

“I always have to clean up your messes,” she mutters to herself angrily, eyes glaring down at the red liquid on the floor.

Between Waking Life and Our Dreams (12/?) by @nachocheese-itsmycheese

Season 3b canon divergence: Storybrooke is still missing when Emma, Killian, and Henry reach the town line. AO3 T

The Fluffy Problem by @ineffablecolors

"Oh, I'm going to have fun paying you back, Captain."

ff.net

The Cure for Loneliness (4/?) by @laianely

Killian went to the world without magic to finally kill Crocodile, but instead he met Emma in Gold's shop. And his whole life turned upside down overnight.

E 16k words in progress AO3

Pan Says... (8/?) by @hollyethecurious

After waking up in a strange room with a naked stranger, Emma and Killian must endure the twisted game their kidnapper insists they play in order to gain provisions and avoid punishments.

To Cleave Destiny by @iamstartraveller776

She was going to pass the night the same way she did every year in adulthood: by getting drunk enough to forget that the world was incredibly unfair. Ao3, in progress, T, 4k

Note:

Don't forget to comment and show some love. To me too. Come on. Anyone else who wants to be tagged can request it.

If you have more fic recs or more links, drop them in the comments and I'll include them. You creative mermaids, love ya.

@kmomof4 @caught-in-the-filter @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @the-darkdragonfly @teamhook @justanother-unluckysoul @karlyfr13s @snowbellewells @xarandomdreamx @klynn-stormz @omninerdgirl @facesiousbutton82 @finmnsoh56 @followbatb @killianxswan @booksteaandtoomuchtv @exhaustedpirate @anmylica @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @undercaffinatednightmare @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @stahlords @lfh1226-linda @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @captainswan-kellie @motherkatereloyshipper @soniccat @jrob64 @beckettj @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jonesfandomfanatic @zaharadessert @bluewildcatfanatic @once-upon-a-happy-end @ultraluckycatnd

#cs ff #captain swan #ouat #killian jones #emma swan #ouat ff #cs modern au #cs au #cs fic #my lists

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anki-of-beleriand · 1 year ago

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Bad Liar ch. 5

Summary: Life is about lessons, and Wanda has been learning some harsh facts that had define her life and taken her to a place in which she was given a second chance. Then, all of a sudden, she meets you, and she realizes why it's easier to lie to yourself than to accpet what's right in front of her.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff/ Female!reader - America/Kate - Mentions of past Vision/Wanda - past Natasha/Reader - Some Female!Reader/Carol Danvers - past Shuri/Female!reader

Warnings: Slow burn - Enemies to friends to lovers - Mentions of abusive relationships - Toxic relationships - angst - drama - mentions of abuse - unrequited love - gay panic - fools in love - more tags as the story progress.

Author's note: I'm back! Yes! I know it has been quite a while, life has been hard if I'm honest with you and these moments of peace had been sporacdic. Hope you like this new chapter.

This time around something happened that made R and Wanda come closer, yet far enough for them to deny whatever they want.

Thank you so much for reading, commenting, liking and reblogging the story guys! Remember that English is not my mother tongue, so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18

Chapter 5

Falling

Her life had been predetermined by her father the moment she had been born.

For as long as she could remember, Wanda had always been told what to do, how to act, what was expected of her. Even though her mother helped her get an education, as well as get into a career, her father had always made sure Wanda was straight as an arrow, always leading her to a ‘good man that could control and protect her’.

She found herself being introduced to Jarvis at some point, the son of one of her father’s business partners, and a classmate of hers all through the secondary, it had been decided that he would be her husband. Wanda sighed watching the picture she kept on her photo album, in there was Pietro always smiling and happy with his arm around her shoulders while Jarvis stood to her left with a possessive hold on her waist.

Pietro had never liked Jarvis, but it wasn’t his decision.

Thunder broke into the night, Wanda jumped startled watching outside the window while her eyes drifted momentarily to the stairs. She strained her ear trying to hear if the twins had woken up, but the silence of the house was only broken by the rain and the wind right outside. Wanda sat in silence and a half-lit room, the memories of her past coming over with overwhelming emotions that threatened to break her over once more.

She held onto her own strength, the smile of her children and the words of Hope and Natasha while the tears rolled down her cheeks.

“This is a long road, Wanda. You are not expected to heal overnight, but you do need to start somewhere.”

And that was precisely what she was doing, choosing the memories she wanted to keep and letting go of those she didn’t want to remember. The pictures in her photo album had change drastically the moment Jarvis showed up in her life. Soon the pictures of Pietro, her mother, and her friends disappeared, giving way to pictures of Jarvis filling up her youth invading her life in ways she never noticed until now.

She didn’t even have enough pictures of her and the twins, most of the pictures included Jarvis one way or another holding them, grabbing them, possessing them. Wanda closed the photo album feeling suddenly emotionally tired, her life had changed drastically ever since she ran from Jarvis and started working on her, her children, her career.

“One step at a time, Wanda. You just must give yourself some credit, you are doing fantastic and as long as you remember why you are doing this you will be okay.”

And Wanda knew why she was doing it.

She still had the scars, and the police report as well as the medical records of herself and Tommy. The bright, blueish light of lightning breaking into the night startled her again, this time around she redirected her eyes to the window and waited for the sound of thunder breaking into the night.

The lights in the house flickered and soon the hole house went black. Wanda stood up, her eyes going big as she heard the sudden cries coming from the twin’s room. In less than a minute she had run up the stairs entering their room, the light from the mobile helping her move through the house and the darkened room.

She was familiar with the scene welcoming her the moment she crossed the threshold of the twin’s room. Billy was holding onto Tommy, both boys had their eyes wide open though Tommy was looking drowsy and flustered while Billy was completely awake and disheveled holding onto his brother as he used to whenever they heard the screams of fighting and hitting in their parents’ room.

“Hey, guys, it’s okay, mommy is here.” Wanda approached the bed wrapping her arms around them, kissing their foreheads with a concerned frown. “It’s just rain, it will pass.”

Billy merely nodded but Tommy went from his brother to his mother, and it was then that Wanda noticed the shivering figure of Tommy, his labored breathing and the glassy eyes. Billy shot his brother a worried glance before turning his attention to his mother.

“Momma, I don’t feel good.” Tommy whispered snuggling closer to Wanda, the young woman placed her hand on the boy’s forehead feeling the warm emanating from his skin.

Panic rose inside Wanda’s mind, Tommy was burning and he wasn’t looking so good. She lifted her eyes and Billy was glancing at her with a frown adorning his face.

“Mommy?”

“Don’t worry, boys, mommy is here, okay?” Wanda cooed Tommy while trying to give Billy a reassuring smile.

Tommy closed his eyes whimpering lightly, while Billy chewed on his lower lip.

“Is Tommy okay?” He asked in a small voice, Wanda fixed the younger of the twins on the bed while helping Billy down and directing him to his own bed.

“He is baby, but he needs some space and medicine, right now he seems to have a fever and mommy needs to make sure he is okay.” Wanda explained pocking Billy on the nose, the young boy offered a weak smile, but his eyes went from Wanda and Tommy constantly.

“I’m going to grab something really quick from the bathroom, can you watch over him without going to close to Tommy?” Wanda inquired knowing the request was hard for the young boy, they had always been together through the fighting, through the punishment and even in sickness.

But Wanda didn’t have the luxury of having any help, and risking both twins to get sick was something she couldn’t afford emotionally and physically. Wanda brushed Billy’s hair placing a single kiss on his forehead. Billy scrunched up his nose, pursing his lips at the last request.

“Tommy needs me.” He mumbled crossing his arms.

“I know it’s hard, Billy, but mommy doesn’t want you catching whatever it is Tommy has.” She tried to explain to the upset kid. “Mommy needs you to be strong and help her out, can you do that for me?”

Billy pouted looking away while nodding his head curtly, Wanda hesitated for a moment before standing up, her eyes went to Tommy then back to Billy who was still looking away from her. With a heavy heart, the young woman made her way to the bathroom to look for something that might help Tommy.

In the darkened bathroom, Wanda soon realized she had never bother to buy any medicine or any kind of implements that might help in a situation such as this. She had gauze, alcohol, bandages, cotton balls, and a digital thermometer. She tried to look at her reflection, the tears she didn’t know she was shedding rolling down her cheeks while her heart beat hard against her ribcage. None of this, but the thermometer, would help her with Tommy, would her?

With trembling hands, Wanda grabbed the thermometer and some cotton balls, she let her hands wander inside the cabinet until she found a small cup. Making sure the water was not too cold, she wiped away her tears and putting on a strong façade grabbed everything and went back to the twin’s room.

The storm ranging right outside the house became almost unbearable, thunder and lightning filled out the emptiness inside her home and by the time she was helping Tommy out, Billy was holding onto his pillow watching wide-eyed as Tommy whimpered and complain while putting his blankets away.

The lights had not come out yet, and Wanda had a feeling that this might take some time because of the storm. She went right into action making sure Tommy had the thermometer while putting the cotton balls and the cup of water on the bedside table.

Billy watched from afar as Wanda fussed over Tommy while his brother cried softly, and tried to get away from her touch while still couching and sneezing, his hands grabbing his chest or head from time to time. The young boy had always been there ready to protect his brother, and he hated it when he knew there was nothing he could do.

His young eyes went from his brother to his mom, she was crying and Billy felt his eyes well up at the sight. For a brief moment, he turned his attention to the door almost expecting his dad to come over screaming enraged before hitting mommy and Tommy.

But it never happened, and relief washed over the young man that still felt anguish at the sight of his family suffering over without anything he could do. Billy glanced at the phone, then back at his mom and Tommy, he lifted his hand and wiped away his tears with his pajamas. The phone he had been holding for quite a while vibrated in his hand, Billy frowned glancing at the phone while tilting his head.

“Mommy.” He mumbled standing up, he made his way to Wanda holding onto the phone.

Wanda lifted her head, she tried to smile and Billy could see she was not doing okay.

“Tell me, sweetie.”

“Can you call a doctor?” Billy offered the phone to his mother, he could no longer hide the tears on his face and Wanda broke just a little at how mature he usually behaved at his age.

Wanda grabbed the phone putting him closer to her, her arms wrapped comfortingly around him before placing a kiss on his head. She thought about the proposal, it wasn’t as if she hadn’t thought about it, but the rain outside and the lower temperatures could only be worse for the boy burning in fever at the moment. There was a moment of hesitation on Wanda’s part, she glanced at Tommy then at Billy before placing her eyes on the phone.

But before she could do anything, Tommy sat up moaning, grabbing his stomach.

“Mommy I don’t feel good…” And with those words, he leaned in and started throwing up.

Billy stepped back watching horrified as Tommy empty the contents of his stomach on the bed and the floor, and soon Wanda sprang into action taking the young boy to the bathroom, running and sharing comforting words to a now crying Tommy.

The mobile had fallen to the floor, and Billy grabbed the gadget in his hands hugging it closer to his chest not knowing what to do and how to help his mom and brother. It took him a moment, tears falling down his face, and he just checked the phone finding the only familiar name that could help him and his mommy in a moment like that one.

With a blurry eyesight, he pressed the dial button and finally started sobbing when he heard the familiar voice through the phone.

____________________________________________________________

There was not a single light on the streets.

The wind and water twirled in front of the windows, the bluish light of thunder breaking into the darkness from time to time, and the rumbling from thunder making the glass trembled echoing the strength of the storm.

You sipped some hot chocolate from your favorite mug, sitting down in the kitchen your mind played out the recent events that had shaken your life in ways you never thought possible. More than a week had passed since the school event in which you got a chance to see a side of your neighborhood you were not familiar with and finding her in the practice of your best friend.

Since then, your encounters with her have been sporadic. But each and every single one of them had the spark of teasing you had come accustomed to. It had become a habit to just bother her and rail her up, to watch her reaction to your piercing words and your constant teasing while getting some reaction out of her. To see her eyes going wide, and flashing that glare you had come to appreciate, or her retorts that were a defiance of your intelligence and your personality. A part of you knew the game you were playing was a dangerous one, another part didn’t even care.

That was, until your mind reminded you of one Carol Danvers that had been at your doorstep from the moment you decided to go back to the world.

The blonde woman had been there as a support, and also as someone that helped you escaped from the pain and the reality you were made to face. So much different than Shuri, Carol had always understood your priorities, and while at the beginning the both of you had agreed on sex with no strings attached, Carol had made it quite evident she was ready for more, and pretty much intended to wait for you to be ready as well.

Another thunder broke into the night.

You lifted your eyes wondering if perhaps letting Carol meet America had been the wisest thing to do, the both of them had hit it off right off the bat, and you knew that Carol had been more than happy about the meeting. She saw that as a step in the right direction, one of the steps to get you closer into a relationship you were still not so sure you wanted.

“What are you doing up at this hour?” The voice of America startled you awake from your daze, turning around you saw her completely dressed wearing a heavy jacket and boots as if she was ready to go out.

“What are you doing dressed like that?” You asked back raising a single eyebrow, the young woman came closer to you tilting her head with narrowed eyes.

“I’m going out.”

You snorted shaking your head, “you’re crazy if you think I’m letting you go out with this weather. Anyway, why the hell would you go out? This has something to do with Kate?”

America opened her eyes wide, blushing lightly while crossing her arms.

“Not everything that happens to me has to do with Kate.” She huffed indignantly, though you had to smirk at her reaction.

“As of late, everything has to do with her…” You replied teasingly. “You two should stop playing around and get together already.”

“Oh, shut up! You are one to talk, you and Carol had been playing the friends with benefits for far too long, you should give in already.” She retorted shooting you a defiant glance, you winced looking away while lifting your mug.

“Touché. I won’t say anything about Kate and you from now on.”

“Thank you.” America turned around but stopped when you placed a hand on her shoulder, your brows lifted in wonderment.

“Still, you’re not going out, though.”

America made a face lifting her phone while trying to come up with the best explanation.

“Look, Billy Maximoff just called me.” She started explaining, and as soon as that name came out you perked up. “He was really distressed, crying and asking for me to help him, something happened to Tommy and…”

“Well, where is his mom? Or his dad for that matter?”

It wasn’t so much the question, but the tone of voice you used to ask. Your voice broke a little, and your tone rose an octave making you clear your throat and look away from the scrutinizing gaze of your sister. America narrowed her eyes at you, tilting her head.

“There is no dad, and it seems as if Mrs. Maximoff needs help.” America trailed off before grabbing your hand. “Come with me, please, I think they really need help and I hated to think Billy is crying while Tommy and Mrs. Maximoff are…I don’t know…”

You made a face letting go of America while scratching the nape of your neck, your heart jumped in your chest while a tingling started in your abdomen at the thought of seeing Wanda Maximoff. It was strange, and unwanted, you shouldn’t feel anxious to see that insufferable woman, yet…

“What if Tommy is sick, Y/N? I know you can help them.” America pressed grabbing your hand. “Please, come with me and if it is something dumb, you can lash out at Mrs. Maximoff, I know it had become your favorite pastime as of late.”

“That’s not true!” You replied slightly offended. “She is the one lashing out at me!”

“Oh, please if I didn’t know better, I would say you like her!” America replied turning just on time to miss the flash of panic in your eyes.

“So, can you come with me?” This time around she used her most powerful weapon against you, and her puppy eyes with that familiar pout broke your resolution.

Rolling your eyes you nod, “okay, okay, I’m coming with you, let me grab something, I don’t want to catch a pneumonia just so you can go and help Maximoff’s brats.”

America smirked watching as you went running to your room, she knew even if your words seemed uncaring that you were hooked when she said the kids might be sick. America knew for you it was hard to not care, but sometimes it was harder to care.

*************

Your eyes soon found those of the small boy standing by the door with a blue blanket tightly pressed against his chest, he had tears in his eyes with his hair completely disheveled and a spark of mistrusted sent your way. America knelt down as soon as he opened the door, her face breaking into one of pure tenderness while she spoke to the boy in a soft reassuring tone.

“Hey, Billy, how are you buddy?”

“Tommy is sick.” He mumbled and was about to hug your sister when you stopped him from going any further.

His glare made you think of his mother, and you had to refrain yourself from snorting at the likeness between both of them.

“We are drench, kid, so hugging America is not a good idea.” The glare didn’t lose its intensity, but the boy pursed his lips and stepped away from your grasp.

America rolled her eyes at you, closing the door behind her and taking the jacket off of her. You followed her swiftly, while also taking off your boots and standing inside the house that had been Natasha’s at some point.

The place had changed ever since, though you could see the new inhabitants of the household decided to keep some of the furniture. You frowned stepping inside the place noticing there was no one but the kid on the first floor, turning around you could see America talking to the boy, this time around she wrapped her arms around him helping him up and walking towards you with Billy snuggling closer to her.

“Tommy is sick, and he and his mom are upstairs.” She commented, her lips broke into a sad smile. “He didn’t know what to do, but he thought if I was here his mom could take Tommy to the doctor.”

“You are quite the smart guy, Billy.” Your commented made Billy turned his attention to you, though his eyes had not softened he was now shooting curious glances at you. “However, with this rain, the best would be for Tommy and your mom to stay here…”

This time around you could see the crestfallen expression on the boy’s face, his eyes welled up again and your heart broke at the sight. You leaned in, winking at him reassuringly.

“But you and your family are lucky that I know a thing or two about being a doctor and may be able to help, would you like that?”

America watched as the boy tensed in her arms, his eyes opened lightly, and he glanced at you for the very first time with wonderment, and some hesitation.

“Really?” he turned to America to corroborate your words, and the young woman smiled at him.

“Yes, Billy, this is my sister Y/N.” She said, looking at you then back at the boy. “And she learnt a thing or two about children and how to take care of them.”

Billy pursed his lips glancing at you with a tilt of his head, “really? You help Tommy?”

“Really, I can help Tommy and your mommy as well.” You looked around the place before settling your eyes on America. “Why don’t you grabbed one of the torches you brough and I will go upstairs to see what’s going on.”

“Sure.” America turned to Billy pocking him on the nose. “Want some chocolate while we make sure Tommy gets better?”

You watched as both of them go to America’s jacket, and handing over the torch to Billy they made their way to the kitchen. With a sigh, you placed a hand on your head before turning your stare to the stairs; the place was completely silent, and you had to glance around while straining your ear to catch some noise. Without missing a beat, you walked down the hall until you found yourself in front of a door decorated with dinosaurs and the names of the twins in blue and red.

The room smelt like vomit, and it felt suffocating.

On the bed was a small boy whimpering, and leaning in was the young woman you had come to know as Wanda. There was a moment of hesitation before you knock on the open door, the sudden sound made Wanda jerked around her eyes wide open as they settled on you.

“Wha-what are you…who…?”

The young woman was looking terrible.

Her hair was out of place, and she had been wearing some sweatpants and a shirt that had strains of vomit all over them. The sight itself was quite incredible, you had seen the fire behind those green eyes, the power behind the woman’s words as well as her determination whenever you engaged her in a bickering contest. But the woman standing before you was lost, it was someone that didn’t know what to do or how to react, that was completely out of her element while holding onto a piece of sanity she clearly didn’t have.

It made you think of that time she had frozen in fear during the school’s event.

“You got any coherent thought behind those questions? Or do I have to guess what are you trying to ask?” Your lips curled into a smirk, the glint of anger flashing towards you as the woman strides to you her index finger lift poking on your chest, with her nostrils flaring.

“What the hell are you doing here?” There was desperation in her voice, and you had to wonder where the father of the kids was, where was her husband.

Was she alone in all of this?

“Your kid called, and America dragged me over to help.”

She blinked a couple of times, your words registering in her head while her brows knitted together. Her eyes locking with yours before she opened them in realization.

“Billy.”

“Yes.”

“America? Why…?” Now she looked even more confused than before, you shrugged suddenly very aware of the closeness of the woman and the foolishness of the situation.

“She is my sister, and your kid call her over to see if she could help you.” You shrugged trying to look uninterested in the whole situation. “You had a smart kid, Princess. Now, let me help you with your other kid.”

You stepped aside, and walked past Wanda who was struck by the door still registering your words. You looked around the place before kneeling down right beside the bed of Tommy. You placed your hand on his forehead, he was burning and your touch made him shiver telling you his skin was sensitive to the touch. It was quite evident he had thrown up, and his paleness confused itself with the flush of the fever. Your eyes moved to the thermometer then to the mess around you.

“What are you doing?” Wanda asked in a thin voice, your eyes were flashing angrily at her just as you stood up.

“Me? What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You asked through gritted teeth. “He is burning up! What had you given to him? Do you know if he eaten something that upset his stomach? How long has he been like this?”

And just as you said this you stepped closer to her, the anger in you came by the sight of the state the room was in and by the obvious discomfort the boy was in. It was incredible to you that a mother could be this disinterested in their child. If your stepmother had been alive her first instinct would have been to take you or America straight to the hospital, bad weather or not, and your dad…

The anger running through your veins cooled down the moment your eyes fell upon the cowering form of Wanda. The young woman winced when you spoke to her, her body tensing and coiling in on itself, while she pressed her hands tightly to her chest. Her eyes clenched close, paled with a quivering lower lip, she was mumbling something you had not bothered to hear up until now.

“I just…I didn’t…I don’t have because I…” Wanda had been ready to answer your reproaches with the same annoying tone she used to address you until something in her triggered the memories she thought she had overcome. She was useless, a bad mother, she deserved punishment. She deserved her fate.

“I don’t know! I’m sorry, I…I failed, I failed, I’m a bad mother…”

You never expected her to break down the way she was doing, something in your chest stirred with sympathy and guiltiness at having been so hasty in your reaction. There was a moment of hesitation that was broken the moment the woman felt to her knees, this time around her arms above her head as if protecting herself from an invisible attack. You clenched your jaw, your eyes burning with horror at the thought that this was perhaps what Wanda was waiting from you.

You could hear her whimpers, turning around you could see Tommy crawling his legs closer to his body, he had been awake during the scene trembling on his bed with his lips turned downwards. You brushed your hair away before stepping closer to Wanda, kneeling down slowly but surely, your hand placed itself on her shoulder. Whatever story was behind her reaction, you decided right there and there, you would make things easier for her.

“Hey, Wanda, I’m sorry.” You whispered softly, comfortingly. “It was not my place, you are a good mother, you did the right thing, I just…I want to help…”

“Hey, Wanda, sorry I just…look, I came here to help. So…”

“Why? So you can humiliate me? Tell me…making me feel as If…” Wanda exploded pushing your hands away, her eyes filled with tears just as she glared at you. “I’m doing my best I just…”

“I know, I’m sorry.” You whispered, wincing at her words. “I was unfair, I…I just…I don’t like seeing little kids suffering, okay? And, Tommy, he really needs a doctor. Let me make it up to you, let me help you.”

“What? You are a doctor or something like that?” Wanda bit back, her glare never missing the intensity.

“Something like that.” You replied offering a half smile, Wanda furrowed her brows the situation draining her of any will or energy to fight over. “Let’s start by getting him really clean up, do you have anything we can give him?”

“What do you mean?” She asked in a small voice.

“Antibiotics, aspirin…something?” Wanda shook her head and you nodded curtly.

“Okay, that’s fine. You and him, you need a shower…”

“But…but he is sick, and his fever…”

“Needs to be controlled before it gets out of hand.” You replied helping the young woman stand up, you cocked your head, so your eyes fell upon the boy that was glancing at the both of you. “Let’s take him to the bathroom, I have some torches that may help you, but you need to give him a bath and help with his fever.”

Wanda nodded weakly making her way to the bed, Tommy was shivering with his lips parted. You leaned in, observing the rhythm of his breathing and the sweat on his face.

“Mommy?” He asked in a weak voice, Wanda cleared his face never missing the concern marks on her face.

“Is he…” Wanda started but soon trailed off.

“He is gonna be okay.” You smiled at her, standing up you placed a hand on her forearm. “Don’t worry, kid, everything is gonna be fine, can you tell me where it hurts the most?”

Tommy pouted hesitating before placing his hand on his head, you pursed your lips nodding. Wanda observed as you knelt down with your eyes scanning the small form of the boy.

“Does your tummy hurt still?”

“No.” Tommy put his legs closer to his chest, your eyes narrowed for a moment.

“Tommy, did you feel bad today at school?”

Tommy hesitated before nodding, “I didn’t want Billy worried because he was playing with Bard, and I’m always complaining.”

The boy explained in a thin voice, Wanda pressed her lips holding back her own tears. You offered the boy a smirk, shaking your head.

“I bet Bard was being a little brat about it, wasn’t he?”

Tommy opened his eyes before nodding, this time around he smiled.

“Yeah, the men in that family can be little brats.” You said winking at Tommy. “But they are good people, you don’t have to hide, Tommy, more so if you don’t feel okay.”

“I’m s’orry.” He lowered his gaze, “I don’t wanna be weak, daddy don’t like it when I complain.”

You decided to not comment on that, and you even ignored the sudden shift on Wanda’s posture, and the gasp she let out at Tommy’s words.

“Hey! Not feeling well is not about complaining, it’s about being brave enough to admit you need help.” You replied by pocking his nose. “Now, I need to help you and your mom with your fever, okay?”

Tommy nodded putting a thumb on his mouth, you stood up looking around the room before settling your eyes on Wanda. In a sudden movement, you went to pick up Tommy in your arms, the little boy snuggling closer to you.

“He does need to take a bath, and it’s going to be a little uncomfortable for him because the water must be lukewarm.” You stated firmly, Wanda shifted her position taking a good look at you. “Can you show me the bathroom?”

The bathroom was huge.

With a big bathtub at the far corner, you realized that with more light the situation would be easier for everyone. However, the place was big enough to make it work for the mother and the child, you placed Tommy on a small chair near the toilet.

“Okay young man, I need your help right now, think you can do it?”

Tommy opened his eyes wide, nodding while glancing at you then back at Wanda.

“Okay, I’m gonna bring some flashlights and you and your mom are going to take a bath.” You explained to him standing up while turning on the light on your mobile. Wanda had been silent up until then, she had been following your every move, hearing every single word you spoke to her and Tommy, and something inside her stirred grateful by your actions.

You glanced around the place helped with your mobile trying to locate the cabinet in which you might be able to locate some medication. Your eyes narrowed when the only thing you spot were gauzes, bandages, alcohol, and things that might help someone after a fall. Not in a situation like the one they were in at the moment. You turned to Wanda, but the young woman was making her best effort to look away from you.

“I’m going to get the bathtub ready, and you and Tommy can take a bath, so the both of you stop stinking.” You made a face winking at Tommy who giggled placing a hand on his mouth.

“I’m not…” Wanda started but soon trailed off when she heard Tommy’s giggle.

“You are.” You replied walking past her towards the tub. “And Tommy is too, right?”

Tommy hesitated before nodding, “I stink. I felt bad in my tummy and throw up.”

You made a face making sure the war was the right temperature, “that and you have a fever, Tommy. I will need some basic medication for you, but the water will help with the temperature, okay?”

“But, with his fever…” Wanda started, you stood up shaking your head.

“It will make him feel better, believe me.” You offered a kind smile and Tommy was already feeling ready to take the bath. “Let me go for the torches, and then I will bring some medication I have at home that may help with his symptoms.”

Wanda stood there nodding numbly, you hesitated for a moment before grabbing her hand, the tender touch jerked her awake and her eyes found yours in the dark.

“It’s gonna be okay, Wanda, trust me.” You whispered, and the young woman felt her stomach tingle at the closeness, her heart shivering at your words.

“I do.”

You nodded curtly running down the stairs and grabbing two torches from your jacket and that of America, your sister watched you with curiosity, but you paid her no mind and went back to the second floor. Fixing the flashlights on two strategic points in the bathroom, it took but a moment, but soon your eyes found the naked back of the boy and your whole body tensed, while your jaw clenched closed again, this time around the anger bubbling in your chest was like a time bomb ready to explode.

On his back, there were multiple scars, some of them looked fresh, some others were old enough to know he had been hurt several times in the past. Then, as soon as you saw this, your eyes drifted away to the young woman whose hands were tenderly taking the clothes off and helping Tommy into the bathtub. The way she moved, the way she worried about her children…

“It’s cold, mommy.” Tommy whimpered fighting a little, Wanda cooed the little boy trying to calm him down.

“I know baby, but really is not that cold, is just…it feels like that because you’re not feeling well.”

“I’m going to leave this here and you two can take as long as you want.” You commented furrowing your brows, your mind already working on trying to get the truth about Wanda from Natasha. “I will leave my phone here, if you want to put on Disney or Netflix for him.”

Wanda turned to you, her face breaking into one relief and grateful expression.

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, Princess.” You winked at her, placing a hand on your eyes. “Tommy you are in charge of the phone and the movie, make sure your mom doesn’t put a boring movie.”

“Yeah.”

Wanda chuckled leaving Tommy for a moment to grab your mobile, her eyes soon found yours and her cheeks burn a little at the sudden warmness she felt near you. She grabbed the phone and you and her turned around at the same time, you closed the door behind you, confusion filling up your mind.

****************

“How is Tommy?” America asked as soon as you entered the kitchen, you glanced around the place before spotting the door leading to the basement, in your arms you were carrying the bed sheets and the pyjama.

“He is burning in fever, Wanda is bathing him, and probably will take a shower afterwards.” You turned to America pointing to the basement door. “I need wash this, but right now that room is a mess, can you help me cleaning it up and putting some fresh sheets on the bed?”

“Can I help?” Billy asked in a small voice rubbing his eyes, you offered him a small smile nodding.

“That would be fantastic, Billy, Tommy needs clean sheets to feel better, and your room smells yucky so let’s make sure he comes back to a clean room, okay?”

Billy perked up at this, he nodded eagerly smiling a little, “yeah, I help, come America.”

He grabbed your sister’s hand dragging her back to the stairs, you shook your head opening the basement door going downstairs to put everything in the washing machine.

By the time dawn came, the rain had stopped and Billy, Tommy and America were fast asleep in the twins room.

The lights had not come out yet, and you had a feeling it would take some time for the electricity to be restored again. The living room was early quiet, and Wanda was sitting on the sofa with a warm mug of hot chocolate in her hands. She had bags under her eyes, her hair was still wet but her clothes had changed into another part of sweatpants and an old college t-shirt.

Tommy’s fever had receded, and he was no longer suffering from headaches or tummy pain, he had even drunk some tea and eaten some crackers before falling asleep on his bed. Billy had been right on his bed with America playing some movies on your phone.

Wanda had been fussing around the three of them, she was busing herself stopping any intrusive thoughts that were threatening to invade her mind. She was confused enough, tired enough, scared enough to allow another set of concerns filled her life at the moment.

You sat down on the sofa, the young woman tensed but her eyes never drifted from the photo album still open at the coffee table. You glanced at the pictures, having taken a pick early into the night before settling your eyes on Wanda.

“What a night, eh?” Your voice broke the silence in the room, it didn’t carry the usual bite and teasing tone you had come to use with Wanda, instead it was filled with tiredness and curiosity.

“Yeah, I never stopped enough to thank you for the help.” She finally said tilting her head to glance at you. “I never thought your sister…well, that you and America…”

“Oh, yeah, I know.” You chuckled wriggling your eyebrows. “I bet it was quite the shock for you to discover we were sisters, eh?”

Wanda allowed herself a tiny smile, “what surprised me is that she is such a charming young woman, responsible, and quite smart. And you don’t seem to fit in that description.”

You laughed throwing your head back, while allowing the comment wash over you. Wanda observed your reaction with some surprised, but her lips curled into a please smile, soon she was also laughing shaking her head at the absurdity of her situation. Here she was, sitting on her living room with a woman she though annoying and a bitch, only to find a comfort she never thought possible.

“Nah, she is good sister, I’m the bad one.” You finally replied never losing your smile, Wanda pressed her lips together looking away for a moment.

“I don’t think you are the bad one.” You raised an eyebrow, your eyes shinning with wonderment. “You are a bitch, but you’re not bad.”

“Fair enough, Princess.” Once more Wanda rolled her eyes at the nickname, at some point she had thought it annoying and quite invasive, a way for you to railed her up. But now all she could think of was how much she liked the sound of it coming from you.

The silence that followed was filled with questions unasked, Wanda was not the woman you thought she was. She was alone in the city, raising two boys all by herself while working to educate the newest generation in a school that could provide her with great opportunities. Natasha had advocated for her, she had even given her the house in which she and Yelena had grown, offering her a spot in a school that didn’t take just anyone in.

What was her story?

What was hidden behind those emerald eyes that sometimes reflect sadness and loneliness?

You stirred awake turning around while knitting your brows together, you could not ask these questions. You shouldn’t be wondering anything about the woman sitting in front of you. Your heart should not beat so fast, and your abdomen shouldn’t host fluttering butterflies creating a void you were familiar with.

Bouncing your feet on the ground, you stood up walking around the living room. Wanda followed you with her eyes, her own mind playing games with her and what had happened that night. She kept telling her that she was grateful for your intervention, that whatever she was experimenting at the moment was the result of America and you coming in to help her in a situation she felt was slipping from her grasp. It had been so long since Wanda forged any kind of friendship that was not determined by Jarvis or her father, she was finally free to be herself and reached out to people by allowing herself to make new bounds.

That was the reason why Wanda felt confused by you at the moment, it wasn’t because you made her heart skip beat, or because you made her feel vulnerable. It wasn’t either because she felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment and coyness, or because her stomach had come to tingle whenever the both of you engaged in a bickering contest.

It was because she was learning how to make new friends.

That was all.

Wanda drown the voice inside her head, that traitorous voice that told her Y/N was the only one making her feel that way. Her other friends, the new ones, had never shake her world the way you had done so from day one.

“You should probably get some sleep.” Your voice broke Wanda’s trail of thoughts, she jerked around blushing profusely when she realized you were standing right beside her.

“I’m sorry, what?” She asked, and you snorted tilting your head.

“You should probably go to sleep, Princess.” You glanced at the watch on your wrist. “It’s three in the morning, I could keep watch for you, and I can wake you up as soon as the doctor is here.”

Wanda furrowed her brows at you, “doctor?”

“Well, I figured we need an expert to watch over Tommy, so I asked in a favour.” You replied shrugging, “hope you don’t mind.”

Once more, Wanda felt warmth all over, her heart melting at the gesture.

“No, I…thank you.” She took the last sip from her chocolate before yawning, her eyes drifted to the stairs then towards you. “If you don’t mind…I prefer to stay here…can we talk or something?”

You hesitated for a moment; it was quite evident Wanda was tired but she was stubborn enough to keep herself going if necessary. With a sigh, you nodded curtly sitting down on your previous spot of on the sofa.

“So, what do you wanna talk about?” You finally asked after the silence became too much, Wanda shrugged with her eyes falling upon the pictures.

It was still too soon, and you…The young woman turned towards you, she didn’t want to scare you off with her torrid story. She didn’t want you to know about her past, not yet, not like this; so straightened herself up she asked the safest question she could think off.

“Tell me how come you end up with such an amazing sister as America?”

_____________________________________________________________

The constant buzzing of conversation sneaked into her senses; she knew she had to wake up. An internal alarm was telling her she was needed, but her body and the recent activities had left her drained of energy necessary to open up her eyes.

Besides, she was warmth, and comfortable in the place she was in.

For brief moment she gave herself to the feeling, and her mind was slowly but surely losing the battle with her wakeful state until her ears caught the sound of a familiar voice.

“Thank you for coming, Strange, I know that this is not your specialty but…” You stated offering a tired smile to the man standing before you.

“Nonsense, I will be more than happy to help you out and that’s why I brought my wife.” Strange stepped aside and soon Christine came in rolling her eyes, on her hand the small duffel bag she used to carry with her everywhere.

“Hey, Y/N.” You dropped your shoulders walking towards her and wrapping your arms around her.

“Christine.” The older woman shot Strange a quick glance before wrapping her arms around you returning the hug.

“Miss me much?” She asked teasingly, you nodded looking away sheepishly.

“Like you wouldn’t imagine.”

“That’s why you haven’t called as of late?” The question came like a reproach but without any bite. You winced placing a nervous hand on the back of your head.

“I’ve been busy.”

“So I was told.” Christine waved her hand closing the door behind her, her eyes drifted around the place with curiosity before settling on you. “Where is the patient?”

“He is upstairs with America and his brother…”

“I am guessing you are the mother.” Doctor Stephen Strange stepped closer to the redhead now sitting on the sofa, her cheeks wearing pillow marks and her hair completely dishevelled.

“I…I am…Hi, sorry I just…” Wanda stood up feeling a little foolish and out of place, Stephen smiled kindly at her stretching his hand.

“No, please, we heard it was a rough night.”

“Yeah, it…it was I just…” Wanda stuttered kicking herself for being such an idiot, she dropped her shoulders wincing lightly. “I guess I need coffee, can I offer you something to drink?”

Christine chuckled waving her hand, “don’t worry, dear, I think coffee sounds perfect…”

“Good then, you and Wanda can go upstairs and Stephen and I will make the coffee and something to eat for everyone, would you like that?” You turned to Wanda who was still far too sleepy, and far too lost to said anything at all, you had taken charge of everything so it seemed and a part of Wanda was thankful for that.

“Yes, that…that sounds good…”

“Okay then, if you lead the way.” Christine took on a professional stance, her tone of voice and ever her glance changed, and as soon as they started making their way upstairs she started asking questions about the twins to Wanda.

“She was happy you called.” Strange stated, sitting down on a chair in the kitchen, you hummed moving around the unknown kitchen trying to locate the coffee maker, and some instant coffee.

“I was happy you guys could make it.” You replied never once looking back at your dad’s best friend.

“So, is she your new girl?”

You almost drop the mug in your hand, your eyes opening wide at the sudden declaration and Stephen merely smirked at your reaction.

“NO!” He winced, and she rolled your eyes trying to get a hold of your voice. “No, no we are neighbours, America babysits for her from time to time.”

“America has a job?” Stephen scrunched up his nose, you chuckled shrugging.

“Yeah, she took it after declaring she felt bored out of her mind and this would teach her some responsibility.” You pursed your lips. “She is right, you know? And, well…Wanda seems to need all the help she can get.”

“I see.” Stephen stood up walking towards the fridge and putting some bacon and milk, going around the place to help you out. “And you…and her…”

“Neighbours.” She stated curtly.

“Right, because you are dating Danvers, right?”

Now he was sounding like a confused parent that was no longer up to date with his child’s demeanours. You sighed rolling your eyes, knowing the questions came for the genuine interested of the man, and not because he wanted to be noisy or intrusive. He was like an uncle to you, and after your parents had died all those who had been part of your parents circle had taken it upon themselves to watch over you and America.

“I’m fucking Carol, there is a difference.” You replied slightly defensively, Stephen made a face shaking his head.

“You are dating her, America told us you invited her over for dinner and that she met her formally this week.” Stephen shot you a triumphant smile, and you could only roll your eyes at that.

Of course, America would mention this to everyone who wanted to hear her.

“I’m not dating Carol, but I did invite her to dinner and introduce her to America.”

“You know it’s okay to move on, right?” Stephen inquired again, pressing the topic you had tried to evade for as long as your stubbornness allowed it.

You stopped what you were doing, Stephen continued cutting the bacon and serving the eggs and the coffee alongside a cup of warm tea and some crackers. He waited for your answer, hearing the noises of muffled conversation coming from the second floor.

“I’ve been going out with her, and she seems nice, and quite found of me, and the sex it’s incredible and…”

“But you don’t feel anything?”

You sat down shaking your head, “I like her, and of course I feel affection for her, but…”

Stephen nodded in understanding placing the cup of coffee in front of you, he sat by your side taking the tea in his hands.

“I understand.” He blew on the mug before speaking again. “Why do you continue with the relationship, though?”

“I was hoping I would feel something, but I know it’s not fair to her…to me.” You snorted taking a long sip from the black beverage. “I guess that’s why I have been running from you.”

“Ah, the wisdom of the older generation.” Stephen winked at you leaning in. “It’s okay to feel confused, and to want something, Y/N. What it is not correct is to play with someone that may be interested in you.”

“I know.”

Stepehen made a face satisfied with the ending of the conversation, then his eyes drifted to the newcomers that were talking animatedly about some movie. America’s eyes lit up and she soon run towards Stephen hugging him tightly.

“Uncle Strange!”

“Hey, kiddo!” Billy stood unsure at the entrance of the kitchen, he glanced first at America then a Strange and finally at you.

You tilted your head patting the chair beside you.

“Want something to eat, Billy?” He nodded approaching the chair, helped by you he fixed his body to move closer to the counter.

“So, young man, America tells me you are one of the men of the house, is that correct?” Stephen asked serving him a cup of orange juice, Billy opened his eyes big nodding tentatively.

“Perfect, tell me, do you like eggs with bacon or toast with jam?”

Billy pursed his lips thinking hard before talking, “toast with jam.”

“Good selection, my good sir, let’s eat then.”

____________________________________________________________

Saturday night came faster than you thought possible.

Christine and Stephen had spent most of the day with you and America, and most of the morning with Wanda and the twins. You had left your neighbours house with a heavy heart, thought secure in the knowledge Tommy would be just fine and that Wanda and Billy would be okay.

The afternoon had been quite the familiar time, in which America had enjoyed the company of the couple while talking about school and her aspirations for the future. The topic of Carol was not brought again into conversation, but you knew that Christine was thinking the same as Stephen and that most of that conversation had been thanks to America’s own concern.

You took a quick shower before getting inside your bed, your phone had been forgotten most of the day and by the time you finally got to see it the first message that appeared in there was that of Carol.

“Hey, just wondering if you are okay, hope you have an amazing day, Y/N. thinking of you.”

You turned to the side, your mind playing around what had happened in the last day and a half. The twins, Wanda, the conversations and the things that were left unsaid. You knew deep inside your heart you needed to talk to Carol, with a trembling hand you went to write to her but, at the last minute your finger drifted to another chat. A new one.

“Hey, Princess, how are the twins?”

_____________________________________________________________

#fanfic #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wandaxreader #imagine wanda maximoff #female reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #reader #Wanda Maximoff/Female! reader

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bettyfrommars · 1 year ago

Note

hi hey hello i am here to humbly request a sexy lil stevie blurb where he’s getting his succu bussed by demon babe.

go nuts. go wild. maybe steve is a good catholic boy maybe he’s not i dunno the evil power is in your hands.

goodBoy!Steve x demon!fem!Reader

18+ONLY - MDNI - smut, Steve falls in love, unprotected p in v, hint of dubcon but only for a moment, demon sex, oral for all, hints to religious trauma, heaven and hell, mention of demons, curses, star-crossed lovers. wc: 2.9k

Good Boy

Steve Harrington was on his knees that night, praying at the foot of the bed, waiting for the all too familiar rustling sound to come from inside the closet. He prayed louder, faster, but he knew you were coming for him, just like you had every night since he found The Book and accidentally summoned you.

He’d tried to throw the book out the window, he’d tried to burn the book, but every night it returned to his bedside table, right where his bible used to be. His family farm had fallen on hard times; the dirt was dry, and the crops were dying, and an old woman in town sold him a book with a spell inside that would bring life back to the land. Steve had always been a very good boy; he worshiped at church, and he worked from sunup to sundown on the farm. He had sexual relations with women before, of course. Once right out of high school, and a couple times with his first girlfriend, Dora, but she always told him he was too big, and it hurt. Steve didn’t want to hurt anyone, and so he’d been saving himself for marriage ever since.

That is, until, that first night the demon came to claim him.

It’d been 7 unholy days full of sins unimaginable since the night he drew the symbol on the floor, dripped blood from his pricked finger, and recited the spell from the book. 7 days since the rains came and the diseased crops glowed ripe and plentiful like an overnight miracle. The book itself was tanned leather, made from some type of skin, embossed with three symbols on the spine but no other distinguishing markings. At first, he cursed the day he was stopped by that old woman in the street, peddling her wares in a pushcart.

Her wrinkled hand snaked out from under her black shawl to take his wrist with a touch that was hot with fever. “You’ll never know if you don’t try it,” she rasped, hunched over, her face in shadow. “Many people have been cured by my spells; many roses have bloomed in my wake. A good boy like you deserves to be rewarded.”

He didn’t even remember buying the book, but suddenly it was clutched under his arm, wrapped in newspaper, and he was on the other side of the street. He looked around, searching for the old woman, but it was as if she’d never existed. He adjusted his glasses, lip curled in confusion, running a hand through his unruly hair. When he unwrapped the paper to see what he had, he realized the pages in the book were, indeed, not the word of God, and so he threw it away in the nearest garbage can.

That was the first time it ended up back on his nightstand. He tossed it out the window and into the pond, only to have it materialize minutes later. He recited the lord's prayer and begged for God to remove the book, but it was no use.

That night, he lay in bed shirtless, one hand behind his head, kept wide awake by the compulsion to perform the spell in the book the old woman had told him about. In a half hour, the spell was done, and he was wiping the chalk and blood off the wood floor, shaking his head, sucking back tears at the idea of a lifetime in purgatory.

But, the next day, he realized the spell had worked, and maybe the woman was right: good boys deserve to be rewarded, and Steve was a very good boy.

That night, after an afternoon of celebration at the farm for the miracle that had clearly been a gift from God himself, Steve crawled into bed with a smile on his face. Under the covers, he jerked himself off, riddled with shame as he did so, moaning a bit to himself, worrying his parents would hear him downstairs. Blind in the dark without his glasses, he reached for the box of tissues with his cum-covered hand, and touched The Book instead, wiping his seed across the symbols on the spine.

That was the first time he heard the noises coming from the closet: a swoosh, and then a stomp, and then the rattling of the doorknob as something worked it open from the inside.

When Steve snapped the light on, there you were, standing at the end of the bed. Looming formidable, smooth red skin tight against your muscles, two horns curled on either side of your head like that of a ram, eyes wide and glossy black. You wore a harness on your neck, breasts bare and firm, nipples hard. From the waist down, there appeared to be dark fur, as if you had the hips and legs of a goat, complete with the glimpse of a hoof just before it morphed into a human foot, and a human leg.

Steve scrambled back against the headboard, too afraid to even scream, struggling to get his glasses on.

“Begone demon!” His voice quivered. But why did he like what he saw so much? You sauntered around the corner of the bed to get closer, long, pointed tongue flicking out to touch your cheek. There was a purring, or a clicking noise happening in the back of your throat

His cock was rock hard, the tip sticky against the inside of the blanket.

“Do you want me to help with this?” You asked, in the same tone a snake might speak with, finishing with long S’s.

Steve gasped when you pulled back the cover to reveal his generous length curved tight up his stomach above his white boxers. You sat down on the bed near his leg, the springs squeaking, and his cock twitched, aching as he watched every flick of your tongue. With a snap of your fingers, the bedside lamp went out, so now the moon through the thin curtains was the only witness to the weight of Steve’s desire.

Your teeth were sharp, but your lips were soft, and it was all Steve could do not to buck his hips in his eagerness for you to take him. This had to be a dream, and in dreams, you can’t be held accountable for the things you take part in. Maybe he’d even forget it by the time he woke up. He kicked the blanket all the way down with his socked feet, and you ran your pointed nails along his hairy shin, all the way up to the hem of his shorts, making him shiver. You scratched at his balls gently with the tips of your nails through his boxers, tapping tapping, causing more pre-cum to dribble from his tip.

“Are you…” Steve stammered. Sweat shining on the skin under his chest hair. “...what do you want from me?”

“I want to taste you,” you told him, eyeing the tip of his cock hungrily. Knowing full well you could take him even if he said no, Steve nodded, bracing his hands on either side of him.

You bent over but kept your black eyes on him, dropping your long, pink tongue down to taste the sweet skin of his shaft and the fresh juice from his hole, concentrating on the ridge under his flesh tip. You wrapped your lips around the head, moaning as you did so, softly grazing the skin with your teeth. Steve threw his head back, his balls aching to do their job again. Your mouth was so wet, your tongue like velvet. He really did not want to like this, but dreams were funny that way.

"I need more,” you swallowed, rubbing your lips together. “You're such a good boy, so patient.”

“I- I- I don’t want to hurt you,” Steve stuttered as you pulled his boxers down and made your way onto the bed to straddle him. He was concerned with you taking the generous nature of his girth.

The sentiment made you close your eyes, roll your head back and growl, imagining the seed of such a good boy feeding the darkness inside of you. You took his hand, bringing his fingers to the slick slit between your legs.

“Holy moly,” Steve gasped. “Is that…because of me?” His eyes were so innocent when they found your dark orbs, it made you line his cock up with your hole and sink down, pinching the tip with your tight inner muscles, hovering there.

“Remember what I told you?” You waited to hear him whimper with need before you sank all the way down. “Good boys deserve rewards.”

The speed and strength with which you rode him had his eyes rolling back so that only the whites were visible, neck muscles straining when he turned his head to the side and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Look at me,” you told him, demanding. You took one of his hands. “Circle your thumb right here,” you brought it to your clit. “Rub it fast, just like that, so I can cum too.”

“Wait, women can cum? Like men do?” Steve blanched in between grunts of pleasure, raising his hips in jerky movements to meet the way you pounded down on his cock. “I don’t think I’ve ever been inside anyone this deep before.” He frowned in concentration, rubbing your clit like he was told, experiencing waves of pleasure he never thought were possible.

“You fill me up so good,” you assured him, bottoming out and then rocking back and forth. Every time you rose, you milked him with your tight walls.

Steve barely had time to bark a warning that he was cumming before the whip cracked inside of him and he was pumping all he had inside of you.

“Oh good boy, good boy,” you repeated, thighs making a smacking sound as you helped him ride his high. “All of it, give it all to me.”

You waited until he was done, head back breathless on the pillow, before you slipped him out of you and got on your belly to lick him clean. Your tongue worked under his balls, tickling at his ass, thinking you’d like to stick more in there one day, enjoying his moans as he discovered sensations he liked but had never explored before.

Steve wasn’t sure what you were doing when you moved up to straddle his head, positioning your dripping pussy above his face. But, then you lowered yourself to his mouth and he understood, throwing his tongue around in your folds as best he could while cum dripped out of your hole and down his chin.

You wanted to fuck that sweet mouth until the end of time. Grabbing the headboard, you cursed in your ancient language, cunt rippling against his full lips as you came. You let out a growl that was animalistic, and Steve realized that the sound triggered a lust deep inside and turned him on, just like everything else about you.

The day after that, Steve had a spring in his step. The best sex of his life had been with a demon in his dream, but still—he felt as satisfied as if it had happened in real life. His parents did say they heard him up late walking around his room, and swore they heard a coyote whining right outside their window, but he brushed it off after he apologized profusely for waking them.

But, that very next night, he was forced to come to the cold, hard conclusion that, not only were you real, but he was starting to have feelings for you.

Fully dressed, Steve took his glasses off and threw water on his face in the bathroom sink, trying to wake himself up when you appeared out of the closet the next night. “No way, no how, no sir,” he shook his head. “There’s no way this is happening.”

He faced you and jabbed his finger at the book, water dripping from his hair and nose. “God will smite me if I continue to fornicate with you, and this book is to blame.”

You were not forced to fuck Steve because of a curse. That first night, yes, he had inadvertently summoned you. But, after that, it was your own free will that had you polishing your horns and sharpening your claws, wanting to look good for him. Steve had free will too, and he could’ve told you at any moment that he didn’t want you there, but he never did.

On that second night, the two of you kissed for the first time, and then you sucked him off, swallowing him deep inside, making his legs shake and his knees buckle. Every night was a new sexual experiment, a new avenue of lust to pave Steve’s way to hell.

On the fifth night, you were next to him in bed, silicone strap-on harnessed in place, still slick with lube, and he took your strong, red hand in his. “You know what? If you’re in hell, I don’t think it would be so bad.”

You turned your head on the pillow. “There’s something I should tell you.”

The sound of your voice made Steve afraid. He turned on his side to face you, tucking his hands under his head like a pillow. “I’m listening.”

You kept your gaze to the shadows of the ceiling. “I’m only here for seven days,” you swallowed hard. “And then I have to go back.”

“Back? Back where? In the closet?” Steve pressed.

‘Back…where I’m from,” you said softly.

“Wait, back to hell?”

You gave a crooked grin. “If that’s what you want to call it. But I am not of your world, clearly,” you used your hand to gesture to your body and your horns.

“I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he offered, sincerely.

You blinked a few times, almost shy under his earnest gaze. “There’s a portal in the closet and it’s going to close on the seventh night,” only as you said the words did they start to sink in for you. “We’ll never see each other again.”

The two of you sat in silence for most of the rest of that visit, trying to come to terms with the weight of your realities.

On the seventh and final night, there were tears from both parties. You let him see you that night, in your actual half human, half beast form, and he did not turn away from you. Steve filled you up while on top of you, kissing you, missionary style. It was the most vanilla of all of the positions, but it was quickly becoming your favorite as you wrapped your furry legs around him. You drifted in and out of sleep in each other’s arms; you could only stay till midnight and Steve wanted you there until the last second. You’d had plenty of lovers in your day, back in your world, but none of them had been as tender as Steve. You worried that you cared about him enough to make the separation very painful.

“What will happen if you don’t go in?” Steve asked, holding your hand outside the closet.

“I’ll probably cease to exist,” you shrugged. “I’m not really sure.”

Fair enough, Steve didn’t want to take any chances. If he could summon you once, he could summon you again, and he’d work every spell in the book until he figured it out. When the time came, there was one last tearful look and hand hold before the door shut, but just as it closed flush with the wall, Steve flung it open again, needing one more kiss from you.

But, you were already gone.

You were not the only thing missing. To Steve’s horror, he realized he was no longer in possession of The Book. There was an empty space on the nightstand, and it was not under the bed or in any of his drawers.

The next morning, he tore his room apart, rummaging through the tiny closet, groaning in frustration, flipping shoe boxes over his head and ripping coats off of hangers.

“What’s going on up there, Stevie? We’ll be late for church.” His mother’s voice called from the bottom of the stairs.

“I’m not going!” Steve barked, but then he collected himself. “My apologies mother. I’ll be right down.”

The sermon by Pastor Wilson was particularly long and torturous that day for Steve in his button down shirt and tie. He desperately wanted nothing more than to go back to his closet and find a way to get back to you. Pastor Wilson asked the congregation to stand for a hymn and that was when Steve caught sight of a familiar sight out of the corner of his eye: it was the hunched over figure of the old woman he’d bought the book from. She was standing outside the church window, looking in, her black scarf over her head, bracing against the wind.

But, she was moving now, turning and walking away.

Steve followed, excusing himself, he pushed through bodies as fast as he could without knocking people over while the congregation sang about begging for holy protection from satan.

Steve broke through the church door and out into the daylight just in time to see the older woman disappear around a street corner, shuffling her cart with her. Steve ripped his tie off and unbuttoned his shirt, preparing to run the distance to catch up with her.

“Leaving now?” An elderly man shouted after Steve from inside the church. “You’ll go to hell for that, son.”

“God, I hope so,” Steve barked over his shoulder, arms pumping as he lit out across the street, running toward the devil with all his might.

#Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington smut #Steve Harrington oneshot #stranger things smut #oneshot #demon #monsterfucking #monsterfucker #monster fuqqer #monster smut #joe keery #steveharringtonsm #steve smut #sh

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thefairywithboots · 6 months ago

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I'm Gonna Put You Down For A While (Robert Plant x Fem!OC)

Hi! So I'm back with some more Robert/Evanna. I just got the random inspiration for an idea for these two late at night, and bust it out overnight. It's not as good as my usual stuff but smut and angst is what I have the most fun writing. So I hope someone enjoys it. :)

Takes place in early 1970. Evanna has been seeing Robert Plant for the past four months, and the more she spends time with him, the more she feels herself falling for him. But Robert does not want to be in a committed relationship with anyone and wants to keep things casual between the two of them. Evanna respects this decision and decides to stop sleeping with him. But quitting the Golden God is not easy.

Rating: Mature (very smutty, minors please dni!)

Warnings: Angst, smut, counter sex, high sex. Hurt/no comfort.

@bijouxcarys @ourshadowstallerthanoursoul @jimmysdragonsuit13

@callmethehunter @firethatgrewsolow @brownskinsugarplum76

@m-faithfull @dzdndcnfsd @friccinfricks

@elliotts-personal-property @jimmypage7 @teaforqne @chromations

Let me know if you want to be tagged for future fics. :)

After spending four years in a relationship in which affection was withheld from her as a form of punishment, there was one thing that Evanna was sure of: she hated being toyed with.

Robert had made it clear from the beginning that he wasn’t looking for anything long term and had wanted to keep things between him and Evanna casual. She was okay with that at first; the man had thousands of groupies at his disposal, ready to fulfill his every desire. Why would he want to be tied down to one woman?

But Evanna did not like being used for pleasure and discarded. Every time she went to bed with him, she could feel a piece of her soul leaving her and being attached to him.

She was speeding towards inevitable heartbreak, and she knew it.

She eventually decided to break things off before it ended in tears and yelling like things had ended with Geoffrey.

The contrast between the two of them was like day and night. When Evanna thought back on her relationship with her ex, she was filled with memories of coldness and paranoia - as if she were walking on eggshells that would someday cause him to explode on her again. But with Robert, he was like a bright ray of sunshine that warmed her from the years of being frozen to the bone. Being wrapped in his arms made her feel safe and loved.

The idea of walking away from that feeling made her feel like an iron fist was clenching at her heart. The coldness was threatening to take her over again…

Evanna was setting up her camera in the photographer’s pit several hours before the concert. Hyper-focusing on her job used to help her stay distracted from her personal life problems, but after falling into Robert’s arms - into his bed, multiple times over the past four months - she felt like this was only making her problems worse.

Still, the quietness of the empty venue gave her a chance to try and clear her thoughts.

That was, until she felt a familiar warmth as a pair of hands planted themselves on her hips. She mentally groaned, turning around to find her face against Robert’s chest. She had to tilt her head back to look into his face to find him grinning down at her.

“Shouldn’t you be backstage warming up?” she asked him while taking a step back to free herself from his intoxicating spell.

Robert let out a quiet chuckle. “I’ll be fine, darlin’. I’d rather be warmin’ you up.” He snaked one arm around her waist, pulling her up against him. She gasped, her hands flattening against his chest. He was wearing a button-down black shirt, and she could feel his warmth practically searing her through the fabric.

“I have to work, Robert…”

“Not for the next couple of hours,” he said while leaning in to give her neck and ear a playful nip. She could hear the rational part of her brain screaming at her, reminding her of her decision to stop giving her body to him if they were not in a serious relationship. But she couldn’t help herself. It felt so good. He felt so good, just with his kisses alone.

“I thought you said you didn’t want anything serious…”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t still enjoy each other,” he said, an infuriatingly smug smirk playing across his beautiful face.

He led her to the side of the stage, propping her up on the platform and peppering kisses along her jaw and neck. She let out a heavy sigh, feeling tempted to just let him kiss her worries away.

But she couldn’t. Not knowing that it would eventually lead to her eventual heartache.

She placed both hands on his chest and pushed him away. He gave her a confused expression.

“Robert… I can’t do this…”

He took a strand of her auburn hair and twirled it between his fingers. “Did I do something wrong?” He asked the question in such a gentle manner, she almost felt guilty for pushing him away. He had let her know from the beginning what the nature of their relationship would be. It wasn’t as if he had led her on to believe he wanted anything more than sex.

It’s your own fault for developing feelings, she told herself.

“No… it’s not you… I just… don’t want to continue having sex if there’s nothing else there,” she explained, unable to look him in the face as she kept her head down.

She could feel Robert soften, even as she wasn’t looking at his expression. “Did I not make you feel good?”

She furrowed her brow in bemusement. Is that really what he thought? That he hadn’t satisfied her?

“What? Of course you did. It was… the best sex I ever had…” She felt her cheeks burn as she admitted that to him. She could feel his hand gently stroke her chin to bring her eyes up to meet his. She didn’t want to tell him the real reason: that he had made her feel too good, and that every time he entered her, she felt a piece of her soul leave her and cling to him.

He placed a hand on her cheek, and she couldn’t stop herself from melting at his touch. He was so warm.

“We don’t have to have sex if you don’t want to,” he said while leaning in to murmur in her ear. Even as he spoke these words, his voice was low and seductive, and she could feel the heat pooling between her legs.

Despite her insistence that she distance herself from him, she felt an emptiness in her heart as he finally had to pull away to get ready for the concert. She turned her attention back to her camera as the venue started to crowd.

Back when Evanna’s relationship with Geoffrey had been mentally and emotionally draining her due to his constant emotional abuse, music had been a balm for her soul, healing her and wrapping her in an embrace that seemed to soothe every bit of hurt that he had caused her.

Now, it would have had that same effect on her if Robert had not been on vocals.

His voice had a way of seducing everyone in the crowd, of captivating the most unwitting spectator. Before, while Led Zeppelin’s music had felt like an embrace and comfort against the pain that Geoffrey was causing her, now it felt like an embrace but in a different way. It felt like he was making love to her all over again but with his voice. She knew that the same moans and shrieks that he made on stage were the same noises he made while she rode his cock.

As did probably half the girls who were watching him backstage right now, she thought to herself bitterly.

One of the roadies beckoned her to come backstage to get closer shots of the band. Evanna followed him.

Evanna focused on getting closer shots of each individual member, zooming her lens in to capture their faces. She saved Robert for last, though she felt tempted to skip him all together.

She let the music carry her away, her attention switching between Jonesy’s basslines to one of Jimmy’s guitar solos to some wildly aggressive drum solo that Bonzo was doing.

Jimmy was in the middle of one of his ten-minute guitar solos during Dazed and Confused when one of the groupies were passing around a joint. Evanna stared at the long stick, thinking about how it was a very bad idea before taking a drag out of it. Perhaps it was due to her lack of experience with taking drugs, but she was pretty sure this was very strong weed.

Someone had brought out a couple of sofas from the dressing rooms to the side of the stage and Evanna soon found herself sitting next to Robert and several other girls. The joint was passed to Robert, and he took a drag, seeming to be a lot more seasoned than she was when it came to marijuana.

The thoughts she had earlier of distancing herself from Robert completely vanished as she stared at him through her marijuana-induced haze. His golden hair seemed to dance all around him like the rays of the Sun. His face was so beautiful, she thought. He was a Sun God whom she wanted to worship and bow at his feet like he had done with her so many times before in bed.

She clung to his arm and leaned her head against his shoulder possessively. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders before bringing her lips up to meet his. They kissed passionately, and she was seemingly oblivious to the groupies giving her envious looks.

Robert eventually had to pull away to go back on stage after Jimmy’s guitar solo was over. He was obviously buzzed from the joint but sang beautifully regardless.

Everyone and everything were so beautiful, Evanna realized. The colors and stage lights were coming to life before her very eyes. Robert transformed into a deity as bright and as beautiful as the Sun. Jimmy transformed into his dark, Moon-like counterpart. Jonesy and Bonzo’s rhythm section ingrained itself into her very blood, causing the music to pulse through her veins.

Evanna knew that she had to take as many pictures as possible while the colors were this beautiful. She circled the stage, snapping as many pictures as possible. She grinned, thinking to herself ‘this is my best work yet!’

Robert excitedly announced John Bonham as the percussionist before Jimmy and Jonesy started out the riff of Moby Dick. He quickly rushed over to Evanna, taking her by the arm and leading her to his dressing room. Every thought of staying to get pictures of Bonzo, as well as staying away from Robert to protect her own heart, was out the window. She didn’t protest as Robert led her away to his dressing room, lost in a kiss as their hands were exploring everywhere.

By the time they reached his dressing room, they wasted no time. She quickly got rid of her jeans before sitting up on the counter. Robert unbuttoned his tight bell bottoms before pulling them down to his knees. He gripped her hips before pulling her against him. He kissed her as he slid himself into her.

Evanna threw her head back and moaned in sheer ecstasy as she felt that sharp sting of him stretching her. The world around her seemed to swim as she clenched around him as he slowly started thrusting. Her hands clutched at his shoulders to steady herself as their pace quickly sped into their familiar erotic dance. They moved in sync with one another, their moans and grunts loud and unapologetic.

“Evanna…” Gods, she loved the way he moaned her name, as he tasted each syllable on his tongue. She panted and buried her hands into his hair as she pulled him closer to her, pressing her forehead against him as his thrusts became deeper and quicker. Being this close to him felt like she was making love to the Sun itself. His heat and radiance felt like it was searing her skin, and his golden hair was making a curtain around them both, wrapping her in the golden rays of the Sun while she was being ravished by it at the same time.

She felt a sharp stinging in her clit as he thrust into her deeper, causing her to clench hard around him.

“Fuck, Robert, don’t stop…!” she whined as her back arched against the mirror on the wall.

She could feel a low growl in his chest as he unbuttoned her blouse while keeping the pace of his thrusts. He seemed visibly annoyed by the black lace brassiere that was creating a barrier between his mouth and her breasts. She could feel him fumble around for the clasp and push the thin lace away to tease her nipple with his teeth and tongue.

She moaned louder, winding her hands through his hair, trying to keep the Sun on her for as long as possible, not caring that she would end up badly burned afterwards. The rush she felt from him being inside her was worth the price she would eventually pay. Because like the Sun, she knew he could never fully be hers, she realized with an ache in her heart.

She moaned in time with each of his thrusts. Bonzo only had a few minutes left of his drum solo, so they would have to make things quick. As his thrusts became deeper and more deliberate, he took her nipples into his mouth, sucking and tugging on them with his teeth, turning them into taut points.

“Robert, I’m getting close-“

He shushed her, kissing her softly before holding her hips more firmly against his so that he could thrust into her so deep, the tip of his cock brushed against her cervix.

She cried out as she held onto him tightly, which only pulled him deeper into her. She could feel his balls tighten against her, the sound of their skin slapping against each other filling the room. She quietly prayed that no one would walk in on them, though even if they did, she knew that neither of them would be able to bring themselves to stop.

Robert’s face buried into her neck as his pace became faster, causing her to clench around him again. She felt his breath against her neck as he murmured something that sounded like “unghh, come with me…”

She panted as her hands convulsed in his hair, her face contorting with pleasure as her back arched. They both climaxed together - two orgasms that were so powerful, it was as if the Sun had exhausted itself as the explosion engulfed her, heat searing her skin, melting away her resolve until her soul lay naked before him as they both rode out the waves of pleasure.

His name as well as a string of curses came rolling off her tongue as she clung to him in the aftermath.

She had never come undone so easily with anyone else. Not even her ex. Fuck, she couldn’t even remember that guy’s name in this moment.

Robert’s face was still buried in her neck, his teeth sinking into her neck when he came inside her. But she had been so caught up in the throes of her own orgasm, she hardly felt the pain.

When they finally stopped moving, she was panting heavily, trying to catch her breath. He was still inside her, as if she was too warm and comfortable to ever want to leave. Bonzo could be heard reaching the end of his drum solo, so they only had a few more minutes.

He whimpered something into her now bruised neck: “I love you.”

Evanna flinched, thinking that she must have misheard him.

“What did you say?” The haze of the joint she smoked earlier was wearing off, and she was no longer having psychedelic visions. The aftermath of their encounter was still in full effect, however.

Robert raised his head to look at her, resembling a confused lion cub. His face was pale, as if just realizing that he said that out loud.

He pulled out of her suddenly, leaving her with an empty and cold feeling.

“I’m sorry, Evie, I didn’t mean…”

Evanna’s brow furrowed. He never called her by her nickname. He had always used her full name, as if he couldn’t bear to be parted with even a syllable of it.

She reached for him, but he pulled away, tucking himself back into his trousers and zipping them back up.

“Robert, please-“ She didn’t know how to finish that plea. Please don’t leave her? She had known from the beginning that he had never promised her anything.

She reached for him again, but he pulled away, unable to meet her eyes. She felt her heart break in her chest.

“I need to go back out…” he whispered while keeping his eyes averted to the ground.

“Robert, please don’t feel sorry… I… I lo-“

“Don’t,” he cut her off, this time meeting her eyes even though it pained him to do so. “Don’t say anything you’ll end up regretting.”

She shook her head and took a step closer to him. “I don’t regret you.”

He gave her a pained look before slowly raising his hand as if he wanted to stroke her cheek but pulled his hand away at the last moment.

“Do you regret me?” she asked softly.

He didn’t hesitate. “No.”

“Did you mean what you said?”

Robert opened his mouth but then closed it, a pained look in his eyes as his mouth formed in a tight line. “Look, I’m not… built for relationships, okay? It will just end like it did with-“ He cut himself off and looked away from her.

Jimmy and Jonesy were back out on stage now, performing the end of the song. Robert turned to leave.

Evanna grabbed his hand. “Robert, I-“

“Evie, I have to get back onstage.”

“Why are you calling me that!?”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “Everyone calls you that.”

“I know, but you never do! You…” She tried to fight back the tears that were threatening to come forth. Everything she had known was going to eventually happen was happening. “Why are you acting like this…?”

Robert took a deep breath. “Look, maybe you were right about us needing to stop sleeping with each other.”

“Funny how you say that after you just finished fucking me!”

One of the roadies pounded on the door. “Plant! They need you back onstage!”

Robert turned to face Evanna, her eyes glistening with tears. “I’m sorry. I just… I didn’t think…” He couldn’t finish his sentence without confessing to feelings that he obviously did not want to have. “I need to get back…”

He turned and left the dressing room, leaving Evanna in there with her disheveled clothes and hair. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks despite her attempt to fight them. Her heart ached in her chest as she adjusted her clothes back to their original state. She couldn’t stop herself from feeling this way, from having her heart be drawn to the man who she knew deep down could never give her what she truly wanted.

The words he had murmured into her neck had hurt her the most because she genuinely did not know if he meant them or not. And if he hadn’t, then it only broke her heart more because she had. She had felt this way ever since he had offered her his shoulder to cry on four months ago. It hadn’t happened immediately, but she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she had fallen so deeply in love with him, and nothing could pull her out of it.

#led zeppelin #robert plant #robert plant fanfiction #led zeppelin fanfiction #robert plant x reader #robert plant x oc #my fanfiction #my writing #smut #angst #hurt/no comfort #thefairywithbootslibrary

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kykyonthemoon · 9 months ago

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Limerence (noun) — a mental state of profound romantic infatuation, deep obsession, and fantastical longing.

⋆˚✿˖° This chapter is a part of a mini-series of dark fairy tales and romance sets in another universe. It consists of three chapters, each with a Male Lead and is separated from one another.

⋆˚✿˖° Character x Reader/MC, from another (OC's) point of view. Reader/MC's pronounce is "she/her/hers".

⋆˚✿˖° Warnings & tags: 16+, MDNI, angst, hurt, thriller, emotional and mind control, manipulation, love spell, obsession, unrequited love, major character death, dark fantasy, dark fairy tale, m.urder, s.uicide attempt.

⋆˚✿˖° Leonard is my OC.

⋆˚✿˖° Read more chapters:

✦ Xavier's ✦ Zayne's

⋆˚✿˖° Masterlist

⋆˚✿˖° My friend Cery made an art for this fic here: x

Chapter: The Muse — in which he brings the world his most significant work of art.

⋆˚✿˖° Word count: 3k1

These days, the artist community was vibrant, with some even competing for acceptance to the exhibition at Mo Art Studio.

So did Leonard. He had to rush around and ask for help everywhere in order to be given a chance. Money was not an issue, but the host of this exhibition was certainly not an ordinary person. He wasn't offering tickets to the highest bidder, but rather to those who possessed an artistic vision and passed his evaluation.

“The ticket will be sent to you within the next three days. Please keep in touch.” The other end of the line cut the discussion off, but Leonard's mind remained lightheaded, unable to believe the gift he had just received.

“Wait…” He spoke before the other person hung up. “Excuse me… May I do an interview with that artist in the exhibition?”

There was no response. Leonard believed they were reviewing his proposal. He held his breath and wait for a while, then the manager named Thomas spoke:

“We do not accept interviews. But a few individual queries could suffice. Of course, if you are able to leave a good impression.”

"I got it. Thank you."

Putting the phone aside, Leonard leaned back in his office chair. How to impress Linkon's most talented painter, or should he say - the world's best artist? Despite his young age, there was no one in this city who had never heard of his work.

The artist's name was Rafayel. He became well-known for his landscape paintings, which brought admirers to a dreamlike state when they stood in front of them. He seldom appeared in public, despite having organized hundreds of major and minor exhibitions. Who he truly was remained a question, and the most mysterious part was probably his disappearance a year ago.

For a whole year there were no new paintings or art activities. No one saw him in Linkon during that time. His manager and studio kept it silent, as if everything had evaporated overnight. Then, last weekend, he unexpectedly reappeared and made an important announcement, which was an exhibition called The Muse.

In contrast to his previous events, guests had no idea what they were about to witness. According to the majority of internet comments, Rafayel returned with a work of a lifetime, a painting that exceeded anything he had ever created. That was the final result of a year-long hunt for inspiration. Of course, there were those who believed he was steadily degrading since he hadn't been able to draw anything decent in a long time and had simply planned this event to earn some money.

For Leonard, either truth was fair. He must uncover all of the details and secrets surrounding Rafayel's reappearance. Since that was what he did for a living.

Leonard was a journalist who specialized in arts. Despite his greatest efforts over several years, he still had little hope of succeeding. He had been without a single decent piece for a long time. Then the opportunity to visit the Mo Art studio presented itself before his eyes. He was not going to miss the chance to see a place that had never been accessible to the public before.

The day of the exhibition approached. Leonard had purposefully showed up early, but as he reached the gate, he noticed that about fifty formally dressed guests were already present. They were enjoying wine and food as they walked in groups into the main hall, where the primary event was held. Leonard also entered with nervousness. All of the windows and doors were wide open, allowing the sea air to convey a salty fragrance into the hallway. Rafayel's famous works are framed, and hung or placed in the center of a floral garden that the host tenderly arranged himself, giving guests the impression that they had just lost themselves in the Garden of Eden.

However, that was not the primary attention of the event. Something massive and cylindrical appeared in the center of the hall. It spanned from the ground to an exceedingly high glass ceiling. It had a diameter of up to ten meters, and was covered in a crimson velvet fabric, protecting it from inquisitive eyes of guests. Even the personnel had not an idea of what was inside.

"Rafayel did all of this himself." Thomas, the manager, spoke up. "I can't answer your questions because I'm not sure what's there. But whatever it is, it will undoubtedly live up to the name of his Muse."

The flock of intrigued guests around Thomas nodded, then split out to stroll around and admire the pillar, as if its very presence was already an art. To them, the less they comprehended something, the more valuable it became.

Leonard found a seat close to the window but not too far from the center of the hall. He was afraid of missing the opportunity to witness Rafayel's Muse. Late in the afternoon, the sun glided across the horizon, casting golden rays into the place. The guests began to get tipsy, wondering if Rafayel would show up or if this was all a hoax, when, down the stairs, the host of the party appeared.

He donned a lavish dark blue suit with sculpted sleeves and shoulders that looked to be encrusted with spectrum fish scales. His presence was as magnificent as his name, causing the entire hall to fall silent. Guests held their breath as they watched the young artist stroll down the steps, the heels of his shoes reverberating on the marble floor as if a piece of music had just been executed.

“Welcome to the exhibition.” Rafayel spoke in a solemn voice. "It appears that all of the guests here are wondering; what exactly has he been doing during the past year? Why didn't he present any of his new work? What's the point of this exhibition?"

Rafayel halted for a moment, his dark eyes behind a few purple curls scrutinizing each guest individually, as if reading them all. The corner of his mouth twisted up in delight as he effectively piqued everyone's interest. He resumed his speech:

“It all began with a muse. My muse. That's a story perhaps a lucky visitor would unveil in this exhibition. But for now…” Rafayel lifted a hand. “Let me introduce you to my one and only, Muse.”

The scorched cloth transformed into crimson tiny particles that flew all about, blending into the fiery sunset outside. The crimson sun halted in the center of the room's largest window, and emerged as an illusion was Rafayel's Muse.

Leonard blinked. In front of him stood a tank of water with a thick glass cylinder. The inside was ornamented with flowers, coral, and white pillars of broken plaster encircling an oval of the glass tank, offering him the sense that he was staring at a lost city under the depths of the ocean. There were schools of brilliant small fish swimming around, weaving between the crevices of the broken world. In the midst of the tableau, there was a woman floating in the water in an upright stance, a few meters above the tank's bottom, conveying an illusion that she was flying. Her head was adorned with pearl jewelry, eyes were closed, as if she was in deep slumber. Her hands opened, allowing the orange-red fish to whirl around her wrists. Then they invited each other to swim along her tiny unclothed arms, to her exquisite neck covered in shimmering pearls, and down to the thin white garment that was floating in the water like her own body. Her bare feet lingered above the seaweed, as if to tease them with the fact that they were unable to grasp her no matter how hard they tried.

A beauty out of this world. That was what Leonard's mind could think of. When he came here, he was full of determination to discover Rafayel's secret, but now, when he witnessed its beauty with his own eyes, he was speechless. His brain felt empty, as if that beauty had filled it and he no longer needed anything else. A melodic rhythm could be heard somewhere, distant seemingly from another universe, but apparently emanating from the tank itself.

All guests were drawn to the center. Rafayel vanished among the crowd that was cheering him. Nobody suspected that Rafayel's Muse was not a painting but an entirely distinct thing. Whatever it was, she was the size of an adult in her mid-twenties. A statue or a doll that resembled a real person?

Leonard brushed past a few astonished others to get closer to the tank. Rafayel's exhibit could easily shock the entire art field. Leonard had already begun pondering concepts for his next piece. Unlike the other guests, who were merely engaged in the beauty in front of them, he was more enthralled by the narrative behind The Muse.

Who was she? Where did her story begin? Leonard sought around for Rafayel's silhouette but could not find him. However, near the stairs, he encountered Thomas with a look of panic and utter shock on his face.

“It can't be… No… It can't be her…” Those were the words Leonard could hear before Thomas bolted out of the hall.

There were just a few people invited to the show, and after approximately an hour, they had presumably spent all of their admiration and hypothesis on the tank. They met again in groups to tour Rafayel's studio. Who knows when they would be able to return here again, in ten, twenty, or even fifty years?

Leonard took advantage of the reality that people had left the area to approach closer and examine more, now that he was the only one standing nearby. The Muse was still inside, a smile on her lips, but why did Leonard feel a suffering coming from her? He strolled around the tank to better view her. It was hard to discern whether this was in fact a sculpture by Rafayel or a real person. That was also what the guests spoke about all day.

The Muse was so genuine. To the point that Leonard expected her to open her eyes and climb out of the tank. But she remained still, absorbed in her own undersea world. He stayed frozen, unable to move his gaze away from the tank, for Rafayel had previously stated that within this, his secrets hidden.

Yet Leonard, with his mundane eyes, might never discover it. The only thing he found was possibly a tiny coating of pinkish red water coming from The Muse's breast. That ruby hue seeped through the attire that enveloped her, and it looked nothing like the color that Rafayel often used in his paintings. There was something rather odd about it. It resembled blood, from The Muse herself.

The exhibition came to an end. Guests departed on their own after being notified. Rafayel returned to the lobby. Leonard took the opportunity to ask in an instance:

“Mr. Rafayel. May I ask you a few questions regarding the exhibition?

Rafayel gazed at him. To increase his reputation, he identified himself as a journalist who specialized in writing about art.

"Ah. "I remember you." Rafayel responded. "Among the guests, you were the only one who gave an impressive answer to my question."

Leonard tried to recall the survey he was required to complete before Thomas reached him to inform he had an invitation. These questions were all about Rafayel's career, and the answers were readily accessible online. There was just one question, the last one, that sparked a lot of consideration in Leonard, while having nothing to do with Rafayel's works at all.

"If you were given a magical spell that made the person you love love you forever, would you use it?" Rafayel reiterated his query. "You're the only one who chose not to."

Leonard nodded. It was truly what he had said.

"May I know, why?" Rafayel glanced at him with curiosity. Leonard was taken aback, as he had come here expecting to be an interviewer. Who would have guessed it was the other way around?

"A spell is just an illusion." Leonard responded honestly. "That is not love." "Love must come from a true heart."

"A true heart…" Rafayel repeated each word. His eyes were as sorrowful and deep as the tranquil water, yet it was terrifying since he had no idea when the storm would arrive. "Perhaps, she would choose the same answer as you."

"Pardon?…" Leonard interrupted Rafayel's thoughts. "Who are you talking about?"

Rafayel smiled but remained silent. Fearing that the young artist might leave without answering, Leonard impatiently said:

“Aren't you talking about your Muse? Can you tell me who she is?”

Rafayel gazed at the girl in the aquarium. He smiled. Just a small movement of the lips conveyed devotion, anguish, and regret.

"She is my true heart." Rafayel's voice resembled a song. But he said nothing more, and Leonard was asked to leave right away.

The Muse's story was forever a mystery. The mystery that Leonard had yet to come very close.

That story began a year ago. Or perhaps, it had originated a long, long time ago.

When a Lemurian gives their heart to someone, it will die if not reciprocated.

Rafayel had given his to a human girl.

He met her when she was a child. She was his savior when he was expecting such a painful death on land, and she helped him return to the sea.

She could not remember who he was, nor did she know that all those years, he had been watching her from afar. Amid the waves, behind the rocks, he watched her grow up.

He met her again as a painter many years later. She happily accepted his company. But it was not all he wanted. He longed for her. He craved her touch to make her become his, in the way he had determined his heart belonged to her.

But, her heart belonged to someone else.

A year ago, she told him that she was getting married.

Rafayel could not recall how frightening his emotions were. No matter how powerful the storms were at sea, they could never match his rage at the time. And, with a dreadful calamity brewing in his head, he did what he did to her.

He bound her with an ancient Lemurian enchantment. He made her fall desperately in love with him. She did everything for him, even abandoning her engagement and following him to a far away place. A secluded island only for them. Glorious summer nights lingered forever on the beach, when she and he were entangled, merging in the waves of never-ending love. He had her how he wished.

However, like an illusion, that spell did not persist forever. It drove her to insanity. She wandered alone on the shore, tears streaming and her mouth constantly crying out the name of the person she truthfully loved with each sob. She begged of him.

“Rafayel… Please… Let me go… Please… set me free… Set me free!”

Her screams were drowned in the ocean waves. Little did she realize that seeing her in this way made his heart bleed as well.

"Please…" She sobbed. Rafayel's dagger was in her grasp, and she pressed it to her throat. "If you won't let me leave... I must free myself..."

"Hush now, my dearest…" Rafayel quietly stretched out to her. This was not her first time in this state. He approached her, placed a hand on her forehead, and brushed away her wind-blown hair. Her fingers on the dagger tightened, urging him to back away. However, Rafayel seized the blade that was cutting into her neck, forcing his hand to bleed.

"You don't want to cut yourself, dear."

She trembled and stared at Rafayel. He hummed a very familiar melody, which made her thoughts muddled once more. The dagger slipped from her hand as she collapsed to her knees on the damp beach. Screaming.

“Be still, dearest love.” Rafayel gently lowered down. His knees were next to hers, as if he, too, was begging her to stay. “I can ease all our suffering… If you listen to me now…”

She covered her ears and shook her head with ferocity as if she never wanted to hear another word from him. Rafayel smiled in bitter. She had been like this lately, forgetting who she was and how profoundly she was in love with him. But that was alright. He would help her rekindle her love. She would obey at once as soon as he began singing.

He sang their song. He sang it the first time they met, and he still sang it day by day with her by his side.

She wept tremendously. She clutched her head and pleaded with him to stop. But Rafayel could never. Just like he could not stop the waves from crashing against the shore, who could ever stop his love for her?

After a while, she became quiet. No more yelling and pleading. She gave him an empty stare and a smile.

"Rafayel." She called his name. Her hand found his body, as though she had desired to be close to him since forever. Rafayel embraced her. He stroked and kissed the top of her head. His tears sank, condensing into pearls and nestling on her hair.

“I'm sorry… I'm sorry for turning you into someone like this…” Rafayel whispered in her ear. “But I've found a way to fix everything. You shall not suffer any longer... And neither shall I..."

Rafayel held her with one hand as the other sought the dagger's hilt in the moist sand.

“Will you do this for me?”

He gazed into the eyes of hers which were dreamy under the spell of love. She nodded.

"I vow to do everything for my dearest beloved."

"Very good." Rafayel smiled as he kissed her lips. "You will always be my Muse… Mine, forever..."

The dagger swung across the fiery sunset. The water chanted its melody in an ancient ritual. Then everything fell silent.

Rafayel watched her passionately as she slept within the water tank he had specifically built for her. That was her home, now and forever.

His hand stroked across the beautiful design. Her body was adorned with jewelry crafted from his teardrops. She was a masterpiece of his lifetime, which extended to no end. His Muse. His lips found hers on the other side of the glass, and he pressed a kiss.

From now on, she would weep no more. She would feel no pain.

A crimson light emanated from inside the pocket near Rafayel's chest. He pulled out a blazing red protocore.

This entire world will soon know that, her true heart shall forever belong to him and him alone.

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