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luvergirl-866 · 3 months ago

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something like love

part - 6

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count - 4.7k

c/w - language, tiny bit of angst (this is only the beginning i fear.)

a/n - is it cringe of me to ask for live reactions? bc i want live reactions sb. anyway, sorry ik i said this chap would be long and juicy but i decided to hold off on the juicy part, i needed a lil more plot development! also ty to everyone who sends me asks, even if it’s just things like “when’s the next part😫” i love it sm lol. hope yall like this one!!

The next two days are—at least compared to the first two—almost peaceful. The weather is nice, just warm enough and not too humid, which Azzi’s hair appreciates. She got goddess braids done just before the trip and even in protective styles, her hair gets frizzy at the very notion of moisture.

The peacefulness largely comes from the fact that Paige is avoiding her parents like the plague, instead spending all her time with Azzi and her siblings. The third day they spend almost entirely at the local park, shooting around at the court there under the hot sun. Lauren even reluctantly joins for a few games, and she may be adamant about not wanting to play basketball but the talent for it must be genetic because she’s a natural. And if Paige and Azzi spend the whole ‘competition’ brushing hands and flirting, nobody says anything. (Though Ryan does wrinkle his nose at them a few times.)

The fourth day starts out warm, and so Paige and Azzi sneak the kids out bright and early (Azzi, of course, ends up with the job of waking all three siblings up—not one of them is a morning person whatsoever) and go to an ice cream shop, where they eat their cold, sweet breakfasts on the curb while they chat. Both Ryan and Lauren may have argued that they were too old to be excited about ice cream for breakfast anymore, but they both end up with matching, chocolate-covered grins when they’re done.

The weather turns for the worst before noon, though, and the kids want to go home but Paige insists they go to the arcade instead. When she says she’ll pay for as many games as they want, they’re easily swayed. Of course, Paige and Azzi make a competition out of the day, deciding to keep a tally of all their points so that whoever has the most wins by the end has to buy the whole group prizes.

Azzi gives it a fighting go but Paige plays way more video games than she does so she very nearly beats her—but then, when they’re almost out of game tickets, Azzi pouts at her about the whole situation, and suspiciously, she ends up making an incredible recovery, easily beating Paige at almost every game after that.

Lauren picks a koala plushie, Ryan picks some new shoes, and Azzi gets this shiny plastic tiara.

“You didn’t have to get the cheapest prize,” Paige says as Azzi adjusts the tiara on her head. “I got money.”

“I know,” Azzi replies, smiling at her reflection in the mirror. “But I had to. As the princess.”

Paige gives her that stupid fucking look again—the one Azzi still can’t figure out even though she knows Paige like the back of her hand, which is just driving her crazy—and that look shows up so often Azzi should really just start referring to it as The Look at this point.

But then Paige smiles, previous odd expression gone, and the way she does that,—slips out of it like she doesn’t even realize it was there in the first place—drives Azzi even more crazy than The Look itself.

Now, it is the fifth day. And Azzi reminisces on these past two blissful days to try and distract herself from the fact that Paige and her parents are having a heated argument right in front of her and her scrambled eggs.

“No, Paige,” Amy is saying. “Absolutely not.”

“You can’t do that!” Paige replies, throwing her hands into the air. “I’m an adult, I make my own money, I can do—“

“It’s stupid.”

“It’ll be fun!”

“It won’t, because it’s not happening.” Amy is unpacking a load of groceries, and Dean is lingering in the corner of the kitchen being absolutely useless. That seems to be his brand.

“Yes it will, Mom,” Paige replies, voice lower now but still obviously frustrated. “I wasn’t asking for your permission. I was just seeing if you wanted to come with us. I was tryna be nice!”

“Well it won’t be nice when you crash and we all drown, Paige.”

“Jesus, Mom! I ain’t gonna go around crashing!”

Azzi feels very uncomfortable, wishing she were literally anywhere else, but at the same time this is sort of amusing and she has to hide a smile in a bite of eggs.

This argument is, out of all things, about a boat. Paige wants to rent one and have a lake day, and though she didn’t want to, Azzi convinced her to invite her parents—she figured they’d decline but that they’d be offended if they weren’t at least invited.

She wasn’t really expecting a lecture to come out of it, though. But by the tired look on Paige’s face, she knew exactly what was coming their way.

“You don’t even have a boating license,” Amy continues, placing a new jug of milk and some apples in the fridge. “This is illegal. If you won’t listen to your mother, at least listen to the law.”

That very nearly gets a giggle out of Azzi. She chokes it down.

“This is a private lake, I’on need my license.”

“Well that doesn’t sound shady at all.”

“It’s not, it’s super legit!” Paige makes for her phone in her back pocket. “It has its own website and everything, I looked way into it.”

Amy stares her daughter down for a few seconds, hands on her hips, before she lets out a resigned sigh. “Like you said, Paige, I can’t tell you what to do. You’re an adult, do what you want. But you will not be taking your siblings on that death trap.”

“Wha…” Paige flounders, eyebrows furrowed, and her voice raises again, “that was the whole point of this entire thing!”

“Well, that’s too bad. It’s dangerous.”

“I’ll make them wear life jackets!”

“They’re teenagers,” Dean points out rather unhelpfully, and it’s the first time he’s spoken around her in days but Azzi is already sick of him again. “Neither of them are gonna wear life jackets.”

“I’ll force them, I swear.”

“Paige Madison,” Amy snaps, and Paige may be an independent adult now but she still straightens her back subconsciously at her mother’s warning tone, “no means no. They are my kids.”

“They’re my siblings!” Paige replies—rather boldly, Azzi thinks, because if Azzi were in her place she would’ve given up by now.

But Paige, as most daughters do, knows exactly how far to push her mother to get what she wants—apparent in the way Amy massages her temples with her fingers before saying, “You know what, Paige? Fine.”

Dean is jumping in immediately. “What? No, she can’t take my kids out on a boat.”

“She’s right, Dean,” Amy says, though she looks a little pained to be siding with her daughter for once. “They’re her siblings. She wants to do something fun for them.”

“It’s dangerous!” Dean motions sporadically at where Paige and Azzi are sitting at the island. Azzi’s eggs are gone now and so she has nothing to put her awkward energy into. “Neither of them owns a boat, and they are practically strangers—“

“She is my daughter,” Amy says, and it’s so quiet Azzi almost doesn’t hear it, but she does, and it sends shivers through her. Because there’s something dangerous, something protective in her tone, something only a mother who loves their child could convey. And it sends a flicker of hope through her. “She is my daughter and I trust her with her siblings.”

Dean flounders for something but comes up empty, instead storming off all red-faced like a child. Amy doesn’t look either of them in the eye when she says, “Let me know if you kids need anything today,” before leaving the two best friends alone in the kitchen.

Slowly, Paige turns to look at Azzi, something like disbelief in her expression. “Did that—actually go well?”

“Yeah,” Azzi responds. “I think it did.”

Things may just be looking up.

———————————————

Dean may be an asshole, but it turns out he was right about one thing: Ryan and Lauren will not wear life jackets.

“C’mon, guys, it’s the law,” Paige insists, thrusting a pink life jacket at her sister, who scrunches her nose in disgust.

“No way! That’s so ugly, Paige.”

“The color wont matter when you’re drowning.”

“You sound just like Mom!” Lauren sighs, and Paige’s mouth falls open.

“You did not just say that.”

Lauren gives Paige a smug smile, which amuses Azzi because it’s the same smile Paige gives her whenever she wins an argument. “And I meant it too.”

If Lauren were not much smaller than Paige, she would be tackling her right now, based off the look on her face. But instead she composes herself and turns to Ryan, who is sitting at the front of the speedboat on his phone. He feels his older sister’s gaze and looks up at her, then at the life jacket in her hands. “You’re funny.”

“I’m being so for real.”

“There’s gonna be hot girls in bikinis on the lake,” Ryan replies, as if this is the most obvious thing ever. “No way I’m wearing a life jacket.”

Paige sighs and rubs her temple with her fingers, and Azzi would never say it out loud (for fear of being pushed into the lake) but she does kind of look like her mom in this moment.

When Paige turns on her with a warning look, Azzi startles, wondering if she’s somehow read her mind. But instead, Paige picks up another life jacket and says, “Will you at least wear one?”

Azzi smiles, a little puzzled. “Paige, I don’t need a life jacket. I can swim.” Which is obvious considering she and Paige have spent various lake days at her family’s cabin.

“Yeah, but for my peace of mind, though!” Paige shakes the life jacket in Azzi’s direction.

The truth is, Azzi wouldn’t mind wearing the life jacket. But ever since she put on this bikini—pastel purple in color—Paige has been swallowing thickly and averting her eyes constantly. So Azzi thinks she has other reasons for wanting her to cover up.

And Azzi can’t let her get away with that, can she?

“I don’t need it.” Azzi steps forward and takes the life jacket out of Paige’s grasp, tossing it aside before reaching to trail her hand down Paige’s bicep, squeezing the hard muscle a little bit. “And besides, won’t you save me if I’m drowning?” she asks, smiling coyly.

Paige’s throat bobs, eyes landing respectfully on a spot past Azzi’s shoulder. “Well, that’s not really how that works.”

Azzi blinks, and she knows just how big and brown her eyes are when she looks up at Paige through her lashes. “No? Thought you’ve been in the gym?”

“I have,” Paige says defensively.

“Hm.” Azzi lets her hand trail off Paige’s arm, resting it on Paige’s side before dancing her fingers dangerously over Paige’s exposed abs. “You wanna prove that to me, baby?”

Paige’s eyes widen, and Azzi loves the way she can not only see but feel her stomach tense under her fingers. But the moment is broken by a gagging sound nearby.

Lauren—who has sat beside her brother and pulled out her own phone—is now looking at them with disgust. “You guys are so gross.”

“You shouldn’t be making sexual innuendos in front of Lauren,” Ryan adds on, though his eyes don’t leave his screen.

“Yeah!” Lauren agrees, then furrows her eyebrows and starts tapping at her phone. Azzi guesses she’s probably searching what sexual innuendo means.

“Hey, yo, don’t blame me,” Paige says, putting her hands up and taking two big steps away from Azzi. “She started it.”

“Azzi’s a freak,” Ryan says.

“Whoa, chill!”

“Hey, that’s actually offensive,” Lauren says. She has picked up a habit of defending Azzi with her life these last few days they’ve spent together, and Azzi has decided she would do the same. “That’s like calling her a monster or something.”

Ryan smirks, finally looking up at them. “I didn’t mean that kinda freak.”

“Okayyy!” Paige jumps in before Lauren can do any more Googling. “Let’s get this show on the road. Imma go untie us real quick, then we’ll head out.”

For the first time, nerves bubble in Azzi’s tummy. “Paige, you sure you’ll be able to drive this thing?”

Paige looks almost offended at the question. “Yeah, duh.”

“It’s just, you’ve never driven a speed boat before…”

“Trust me, mama,” Paige says, nodding cockily to herself. “I got driving skills like you’ve never seen.”

Fifteen minutes later, Azzi realizes Paige was telling the truth. She has certainly never seen these driving skills before.

Paige is an—erratic driver, to put it mildly. This lake is private, huge, and though there are plenty of other boaters out Paige drives as if they’re the only ones on the water. At one point, she gets to such a high speed that even Ryan grasps onto Azzi a little bit.

When Paige very nearly runs into a cruising party boat, Azzi finally gets up from her place between the kids and marches over to Paige, who glances up at her with a sheepish smile. “Whoops.”

“Lemme drive,” Azzi demands, beckoning for Paige to get up.

“No!” Paige says stubbornly. “I’m doin’ good!”

“I thought I was going to die!” Lauren pipes up angrily.

Azzi motions to her. “See? You’re scaring your brother and sister.”

“Whoa, who said I was scared?” Ryan says.

Azzi decides against bringing up the fact that he kept clinging to her arm. “This is scary, I wanna drive.”

“But babeee,” Paige groans, bringing the boat to a stop so she can properly argue, “you drive like a grandma.”

“I drive like a sane person, is what I think you mean to say.”

“It’ll be boring.”

“Paige.”

Paige stares her down for a moment before sighing like a stubborn little kid. “Fine. You can drive.”

Azzi nods, pleased, and shoves at Paige’s shoulder when she doesn’t move. “Get up.”

A slow smile creeps over Paige’s face and Azzi doesn’t like the look of that at all. “I gotta show you the ropes.”

“I don’t need you to teach me how to drive this thing,” Azzi says as if it’s obvious, because really, it is. The thought of Paige trying to teach anyone her…unique ways is downright scary. “I got it.”

“Nah, I think you’ll need some help.”

“P, for real, stop being difficult and move.”

“I’m not about to—“

“Can we go?” Lauren says loudly, getting both girls’ attention.

“Yeah, I’m getting hot as hell just sitting here,” Ryan agrees.

“I wanna get to that diving cliff Paige was talking about!”

Before Azzi can turn back to Paige to continue arguing with her, Paige has her hands on her hips and is pulling her firmly into her lap. Azzi squeaks, grabbing onto the wheel for leverage.

“Paige!” she exclaims, turning to glare at the smug-looking girl underneath her.

“You heard them,” Paige says simply, shrugging her shoulders as if her hands are tied. “Let’s go.”

“I don’t—“ Azzi starts to argue once again, but then Lauren is sighing dramatically in that teenage-girl way of her’s and saying, “Seriously, come on!”

So, almost in a daze, Azzi turns back to the front and moves her hand to the shift, getting the boat moving slowly again. She tries desperately to ignore it when Paige leans up close to her ear and murmurs, “Atta girl,” but she can’t help the goosebumps that erupt over her neck and Paige must spot them because she chuckles lightly before leaning back, letting Azzi do her thing.

Trying to shake off the feeling of Paige’s hot breath fanning over her skin, Azzi amps up the speed a little bit, determined to show Paige that she can be fun and safe, as promised.

After a few minutes of skimming over the water, Azzi calls over the wind, “Thought you were gonna ‘show me the ropes’?”

“Looks like you got it,” Paige says, sitting straight so she’s pressed up against Azzi’s back again, and her hands find their place on Azzi’s waist.

“Why’d you make me sit on your lap, then, P?” Azzi asks, and her tone lilts teasingly but she is sort of freaking out on the inside because moments like these—moments where Azzi hardly bothers to hide her feelings for Paige and Paige, instead of shying away, responds—are becoming a little too common for comfort.

Paige rests her chin on Azzi’s shoulder, lips brushing her cheek when she says, “Think you know why, hm?”

Yeah. Definitely far too common for comfort.

Ramping up the speedboat a little bit—enough that Ryan whoops and Lauren leans over the side to touch the water—Azzi shifts her hips. She moves out of discomfort, almost subconsciously trying to get away from this buzzing energy between her and her best friend, but Paige lets out a huff of air at the motion and, curious, Azzi does it again.

A full-on gasp this time.

A flush creeps up over Azzi’s cheeks all the way down her chest, and she’s not sure if it’s from pleasure or shyness, though likely it’s both. But she can’t let Paige have the upper hand, because Azzi can’t even imagine how quickly she’d fold if that happened. So instead, she turns her head to the side and says, “All good, Paige?”

The problem with this is Paige’s face is still turned toward her when she says it. And when Azzi moves to reciprocate the angle, their lips are so close that they brush on the last word. On the utterance of Paige’s name.

Azzi jerks back as soon as it happens, putting a couple inches of distance between their faces, and she’s sure the flush is noticeable by now. She tries for a lighthearted laugh, “Oh, sorry, didn’t realize you were so close—“

She doesn’t see it coming when Paige kisses her.

It pulls a gasp out of her, lips now pressed against Paige parting slightly in surprise, and her eyes don’t even close until she feels Paige’s tongue dip inside her mouth.

It’s a quick swipe, her tongue against the space between Azzi’s teeth and upper lip before she’s pulling away—only enough to make the kiss much more chaste.

Her hands slide from Azzi’s waist to her stomach, and Azzi grips onto the steering wheel for dear life when Paige moans ever so quietly into her mouth, the sound barely heard over the wind whipping around them. And then the wind is whipping Paige’s hair into their faces, a few strands getting in Azzi’s mouth, which she takes as her opportunity to pull away. Paige stares at her—The Look again—for only a split second this time (Azzi much prefers that over the lingering one) before her face is breaking into a smile, not cocky or smug or teasing but just bright, and Azzi can’t help but laugh with her as they pull Paige’s hair out of her mouth.

“Keep your eyes on the lake!” Lauren yells at them, and when they look at her she’s got her nose wrinkled. “What is it with you guys and PDA today?”

“Maybe someone put viagra in their coffees this morning,” Ryan suggests, looking equally as disgusted as his little sister but also twice as amused.

“What’s viagra?” Lauren asks.

“Yo, Ryan!” Paige snaps, her hands moving tantalizingly from Azzi’s tummy to rest low on her hips instead, and Azzi forces herself to look back where she’s driving. “Keep it PG, dawg!”

“I could say the same thing to you,” he replies, and Azzi isn’t looking at him but she can picture the smirk on his face—she knows the look all too well by now.

The three of them bicker for a few more minutes, and Azzi tries really hard to focus on where they’re going rather than the implications of that kiss and all the questions that follow it.

Paige is the bad driver, but when she leans forward and mimics her—“All good, baby?”—Azzi worries she may be the one to crash this boat.

———————————————

“Sunscreen time!”

“No, what?”

“We just put some on!”

“Az, I’m never gonna tan at this point!”

Shaking the sunscreen into her hands, Azzi motions the three siblings towards her. “C’mon, you need it.”

“I don’t burn,” Lauren insists as she steps up in front of Azzi, lifting her arms dutifully anyway.

“You’re already getting a little red,” Azzi points out, applying an extra-thick layer onto Lauren’s rosy nose.

“This is lame,” Lauren groans, though she still lets Azzi work in silence and mumbles a thank you before she turns back to the lake.

Ryan is next, and he doesn’t complain about it but he does stare down at his phone the entire time, his head only falling back down when Azzi tries to push it up. “Ryan,” she sighs.

He tears his eyes away from his phone, only to look around subconsciously. Azzi knows he’s trying to see if the gaggle of teenage girls along the rocky beach have noticed him getting his sunscreen done.

“Hurry up,” Paige complains, nudging her younger brother in the back, and he turns around to shove her.

Azzi fights back a smile. “You can put it on yourself if that’s better.”

“It’s good,” he says nonchalantly, but he hasn’t quite mastered acting like he doesn’t care.

Azzi finishes up quickly, ending the torture with an encouraging smile, watching him run up to join his sister where she stands on the ledge above the lake, sneaking up on her. He pushes her in and Azzi laughs at the way Lauren screeches before her eyes drift to Paige, who is now standing right in front of her, looking awfully petulant.

“You really don’t want me to tan, huh?” she says, wincing as Azzi rubs the cold lotion over Paige’s sun-kissed shoulders.

“Your white ass is gonna burn if we don’t do this every thirty minutes,” Azzi says, reiterating what she said the past five times Paige complained about the sunscreen.

“I got a little melanin in me.”

Azzi looks at the way Paige’s blue eyes are squinting against the summer sun, the way her pale skin is already tinted pink, and raises her brows.

Paige holds her hand up. “Just gimme the sunscreen.”

Chuckling, Azzi squirts some into her hand before giving the bottle to Paige, who turns around and starts doing her front while Azzi does her back. They’ve done this maybe a hundred times, before countless sunny fair days and hot boat rides, but today it just feels a little…off. Everything feels a little off about them recently.

Azzi worries it may be her fault. She has always been good at hiding her feelings for Paige, good at making sure her attraction doesn’t show on her face just like she knows all her other emotions do. But recently, ever since they began this facade—and more so ever since they arrived in Montana—she knows she’s been slipping up. She thought she’d be okay but she wasn’t prepared for the way Paige would look at her like she wasn’t pretending, the way Paige calls her pet names even when they’re alone, the way Paige told her she liked kissing her and wants to do it again.

The way Paige did do it again.

And there lies the burning question: why?

Azzi knows Paige doesn’t have feelings for her. Azzi knows that she’s the only one who lies awake thinking about having Paige in every sense of the word, the only one who wakes up in the middle of the night thinking of Paige with an uncomfortable stickiness between her legs. She is the only one, of course, who is in love.

Then why do Paige’s eyes and hands wander nowadays? Why does she call her baby in quiet moments? Why did she kiss her when she really didn’t have to?

Could she be—attracted to Azzi? Maybe through playing this role, she’s seen Azzi in a new light, and realized her best friend is no longer dorky and fourteen but rather a tall, pretty twenty year old with a great ass. (And yes, Azzi knows she has a great ass.)

She could be attracted to her and not be in love. She could be attracted to her and have no other attachment whatsoever. The two things can be true at once, can’t they?

The thought flatters her but it mostly scares her, because she’s barely surviving this unrequited love as it is. But with her best friend having any level of attraction back? How is she supposed to continue on like that?

“Azzi?” Paige asks, and the tone of her voice implies she’s already said it a few times.

Azzi hums, blinking. “Sorry, yeah?”

“Uh,” Paige says, and it’s then that Azzi realizes her hands have stopped rubbing lotion into Paige’s back and have sort of just come to rest on her waist—like it’s instinctive. Like it’s natural. “You done back there?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Azzi says, but for some unknown reason she can’t find it in herself to let go.

Paige glances over her shoulder. “Azzi?” she repeats.

Azzi can’t really take it any longer.

“Why’d you kiss me?”

Paige’s sides tense up under Azzi’s hands, and then she’s stepping away, out of her grasp, and turning to face her.

The look on her face is guarded, almost closed off completely. This is dangerous territory and Azzi has barely dipped her toes in the water yet.

When Azzi’s hands fall helplessly to her sides, Paige says, “I was pretending.”

As much as Azzi doesn’t buy it, the words—and the flat, cold intonation of them—sting. “Didn’t feel like it.”

“Why’re you being weird about it?” Paige asks, eyes dancing nervously away from Azzi’s face.

“I’m not, Paige. I just—I wanna know. For real.”

“You agreed to do this for me,” Paige reminds her, as if that has anything to do with this. But, of course, it has everything to do with this, and Azzi hates how easy it makes it for the both of them to hide under a facade, a lie.

“I know,” Azzi says carefully, also taking a step back if only to get away from Paige’s chilly stare. “But you didn’t have to kiss me this time. There wasn’t a reason.”

Paige shrugs, and Azzi hates to admit it but she is much better than her younger brother at acting nonchalant. “We’re s’posed to be a couple. I don’t want my siblings getting suspicious. They know I’m a touchy person.”

Getting the sinking feeling that Azzi won’t get anything out of this conversation other than a fight, she nods slowly, looking down at the ground. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Paige, as usual, thaws at the slightest hint of weakness, taking a tiny step forward. “Did it make you uncomfortable?”

“No,” Azzi is a little too quick to say. The kiss caught her by surprise, but they’ve only done it two times and Azzi is quickly coming to find that kissing Paige is the most comfortable thing in the world—it’s natural, and right, and like curling up in bed with a book and a warm cup of tea—and Azzi also knows they should never do it again.

Despite the earnest answer, Paige looks at her suspiciously. “You sure, ma? Don’t ever wanna make you uncomfortable.”

Azzi does her best to fix her face, which she worries may be showing a little too much. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sure.”

“Aight,” Paige says, but she still doesn’t sound very convinced. Azzi’s just glad she’s letting it go.

“Sorry for bringing it up,” Azzi says. She’s not.

At this, Paige sighs, reaching out to bridge the gap between them, running a gentle hand up and down Azzi’s arm. “Nah, don’t be, I get it. Sorry for getting a lil defensive.”

A little? Despite the fact she doesn’t believe Paige one bit, and that she doesn’t like anything about the interaction they just had, Azzi manages a smile. “You’re good.”

Paige nods, and her smile at least seems to be sincere. But as they jump into the lake, and as Paige talks Azzi’s ear off while Azzi floats around lazily in a donut floatie, things feel even more off than before.

Azzi can’t quite place what it is until late that night, when they’re both going to sleep and Paige is, for the first time in ages, strangely quiet. She glances over to find Paige lying on her stomach, face turned away, breathing too quickly to be asleep.

And that’s when Azzi notices it. The gap between them, the sheer amount of space from Azzi on her side all the way to Paige, who is almost on the edge of the bed.

Paige always sleeps close to Azzi.

And she always sleeps with her head turned towards her.

@azzibuckets @smiths-fan--13 @ch12334 @makethemhoesmad @the-other-half @rosemariiaa

lmk if u wanna be on my tag list btw!!

#pazzi #pazzi fics #azzi fudd #paige bueckers #uconn wbb #wbb #wcbb #fake dating #paige buckets #the people's princess #wlw

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entitled-fangirl · 1 year ago

Text

Masterlist <3

Game of Thrones masterlist

Vikings

Ragnar Lothbrok

#drew drools over ragnar lothbrok

Patiently wait.

Bjorn Ironside

#drew drools over bjorn ironside

New.

One and the same.

My strong girl.

#drew drools over hvitserk ragnarsson

Ivar the Boneless

A ring and a cold heart.

Batman

Bruce Wayne

(I don't own this photo btw :))

#drew drools over bruce wayne

Billionaire Brucie.

Jason Todd

(I don't own this photo btw :) )

#drew drools over jason todd

Bike problems.

Apologies.

The trail.

Sleep.

Kill 'em.

Dead batteries.

Little deer.

Dumb football game.

White noise.

Bridgerton

Benedict Bridgerton

A beautiful thing to picture, indeed.

One happy marriage.

Saltburn

Felix Catton

He would burn the world for her.

I love hearing about your day. SMUT

The cold ground provided no comfort.

Sweet little nothings.

So guilty.

Breakfast is ready.

It's like heaven. SMUT

Anything for you, beautiful girl. SMUT

The Last of Us

Joel Miller

A civilized meal.

Never been more thankful.

They're not gonna hit you.

Her saving grace.

Sweet mama.

Miller baby.

Two idiots in love. Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 (Finished series)

Mandalorian

Din D'jarin

His perfect little Cyar'ika.

You've made me worry.

Such a pretty sight.

I know you made her your riduur.

Good Omens

Crowley

He may always be a demon, but she still loves him.

Is that a spot?

Hannibal NBC

Hannibal x reader x Will

I see the way you look at her, William.

His carefully crafted web.

A predicament.

Terms of Endearment (drabble).

Will Graham

No Pajama Party for you, Mr. Graham.

Fishing 101.

Their safe hold.

So scared but so happy.

Xmen

Charles Xavier

Of course, my love.

Polar

Duncan Visla

Four days of hell.

Midsommar

Pelle

That's a love rune. Casts a love spell.

Little bird.

Adjustment.

Twilight

Jasper Hale

Are you scared of me, Princess?

Sparring.

Marcus Volturi

The Best Thing for Marcus.

Caius Volturi

The human did interrupt.

Sherlock BBC

Jim Moriarty

A deer in the headlights.

Harry Potter Universe

Barty Crouch Jr.

His betrothed. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.

I hope I do.

Severus Snape

The astronomy professor.

Remus Lupin

Our needs. SMUT

James Potter

Feeling unwell.

OC stories:

Harry Potter universe:

The misaligned stars.

Remus Lupin x OC x (past)Regulus Black

Summary: The golden trio knocks on the door of someone who can help them with the Slytherin locket.

.............……………….

Who I'm accepting requests for

More about my page!

My backup account: @poetic-endeavor

Fanfic count: 77

#masterlist #imagine #fanfiction #fanfics

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missposessive · 2 months ago

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merry christmas!

featuring... tecchou suehiro, jouno saigiku, chuuya nakahara, nikolai gogol, kinich, wriothesley, lyney, kamisato ayato, kaedehara kazuha, boothill.

description... what do you guys do on christmas day??

authors note... MERRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS GUYS i wanted to write small little things about each of my favs from my three main fandoms lolllll! i hope all of ur guys christmas is going so well so far :)))) quite literally wrote this by alternating between hyaena by travis scott and tyler durden by madison beer so this might be all over the place

*i do take requests by the way!!!!! i'm just writing my own thoughts for now

warnings... none! some do lean towards fem!reader tho

🎧 all i want for christmas is you : mariah carey

tecchou suehiro

really, all the man wants to do is take the day to sleep and hangout with you.

there's some gift exchanging, you both picked out a few little things for each other that you passed over during breakfast. but then it was straight back to bed for both of you. all he wants to do is cuddle you all day. it's so cold out, and when does he ever get to have a day off????

you watch some christmas movies and make a nice dinner in the afternoon. he's mainly just watching, hanging out next to you (and accidentally getting in your way, but that's alright) because seriously, who would trust this man to cook.

to the both of you, it was a very relaxing day. staying inside, drinking tea and hot chocolate while snuggling up to each other. he just wishes he didn't have to get right back on his work schedule tomorrow...

jouno saigiku

he's so used to getting up early, that the day starts at 6:30 in the morning (if you're lucky).

like tecchou, he doesn't go full out with gifts. you've pretty much got everything you need, and he only heard you mention just a few things you've been looking at. so he got that for you.

you both exchanged gifts before you got out of bed. and when you did, you went out for a nice little breakfast and took a walk around the city. it was very pleasant; you got coffee and had walked to look at all the christmas displays (although he may not be able to see them, the most important part of it all was getting to spend his day with you).

dinner isn't very big at all. you were out all day, and you got a nice breakfast, so dinner was just what it could be any regular day.

the night was ended with cuddles to sleep! he's not one for physical intimacy, but sometimes, during times like these, it's nice.

chuuya nakahara

oh, what a lavish christmas you had.

the tree was piled with gifts. all for you. you insisted it was far too much, that what you'd bought him would never amount to this, but he waved it off, taking the gifts you got for him out of your hands and opening them with gratitude.

he made breakfast while you opened the rest of the gifts. a nice set of earrings, a new expensive handbag, you name it. you thanked him with a fat kiss on the lips before digging into breakfast.

it was a pretty chill day. he took you out for a very nice dinner later on, saying it was the "grand finale" to his gift giving. he was sure to order the most expensive red wine on the menu, letting you indulge in whatever you wanted (even though he never looks at the prices).

he ended it off by opening up a wine he treasured and sharing the bottle with you when you both got home. you were curled up on the couch under a fuzzy sherpa blanket, before eventually falling asleep on his shoulder.

nikolai gogol

an interesting christmas, to say the least...

he was so excited! he looked like a kid in a candy store, which made you laugh. he got you gifts that he absolutely knew you'd enjoy, making sure to compare them to things you tend to gravitate to and going from there.

he was also all the more grateful for what you got him, of course.

somehow, it was a more relaxing day. but he was extremely clingy.

when i say extremely, i mean extremely. if you needed to get up to grab something from the kitchen, or you were hungry, or whatever it may have been, he wouldn't let go of your waist, slowly walking with you to wherever it may be you needed to go (besides the bathroom. but he'd still put up a fuss about you leaving him in the "freezing cold").

it kinda stayed like that the whole day. you eventually had dinner, and that felt like the only separation you had from him (which, in the nicest way possible, felt like a breath of fresh air. but you could never be tired of him, right?)

you ended the night with a warm bath, sitting in his lap as he gently washed your hair. gentle was a huge contrast to who he is and what he'd usually do, but it's nice for a change every so often.

kinich

honestly, it felt like a regular day to kinich. he never really got a true christmas when he was younger, so he never viewed it as something he needed to celebrate.

that was until you came along.

all you both wanted to do was sleep in, but there's no way in teyvat ajaw was going to let you. he woke kinich first (because your his favorite human, and he's just there to annoy kinich) and demanded that kinich wake you up.

the day started with gift exchanging, as it usually goes during christmas. you gave your gifts to kinich and ajaw, and ajaw and kinich gave theirs to you. ajaw was seemingly very satisfied with the tiny little green scarf you knitted him.

you made a light breakfast before going into the inner city of natlan and joining in on the small christmas festival that was going on. you met up with mualani and kachina, and ajaw showed off his brand new scarf (a good way to keep him occupied from being a total bitch. you and kinich were very proud when mualani asked you what you changed).

it was like that up until dinner, where you stopped at a small little restraunt on the way home. kinich put ajaw in timeout, so you could have this moment together. the walk home was even more peaceful, and after getting home, it was straight to bed.

wriothesley

if i'm being honest, he probably forgot it was christmas...

he had gifts ready, but being down in the fortress almost every day screws up the sense of time, it seems. that was until you hurried up the stairs to his office, a few boxes in hand. he took the ones he had for you out from under his desk, and you opened the gifts while chatting over tea.

sigewinne came by to wish a merry christmas and handed you two little cards before heading back to work. they were the same cards, just different little messages on the inside (sigewinne is so sweet i love her so much i just had to include her...)

you both went up to the surface and took a walk around fontaine before heading off to have an early dinner. lyney and lynette were having a little christmas special magic show, so you bought tickets, and would see the show after dinner.

dinner was pleasant, and so was the walk to the opera epicles. you both found your seats and intently watched the show, performed by the one and only, lyney and lynette.

after the show was over, it was about time to head home. he normally would have stopped by the fortress once more, but chose not to because he just needed to have the rest of the night with you. there wasn't a single cloud in the sky, and though it was a little chilly, the night ended with a little bit of stargazing.

lyney

he's so excited!! christmas is his favorite holiday, mostly for the fact that it brings all of his family and friends together.

he couldn't wait for today, specifically because he put his blood sweat and tears in finding you the perfect gift. when i say perfect, i mean something that you've mentioned a bunch, while also resembling him in a way.

and when he saw your face after you opened it, full of shock and gratitude, he almost died of a heart attack.

you spent the day with him, lynette, and freminet. you and freminet were making the food for dinner while lyney and lynette were performing little magic gigs in the inner city. it gave you some time to bond with freminet, and he turned out to be quite the help in the kitchen!!

dinner between you four was very pleasant. there was idle chatter, along with some nice jazz music in the background. the food was all devoured with only a few leftovers, which you decided you'd reheat them for lunch tomorrow.

lynette and freminet went back home, leaving you and lyney to yourselves. you cuddled the night away, eventually falling asleep in each others arms.

kamisato ayato

the morning started by sleeping in. he really enjoyed that he was able to allow himself that joy for at least one day.

he didn't go crazy on gifts, just got a couple little things that may be small, but are very luxurious. bracelets, maybe a nice necklace, a hand-made kimono by the one and only chiori (although you wonder how he made that happen).

you both decided to have a slow morning. a little breakfast, then getting ready for the day. you both went into town, simply taking a little walk in order to pass time.

ah, but dinner was very luxurious. you had it with ayaka and thoma. the chefs had worked multiple hours, just for a bunch of food that may not even be eaten... but that's okay. there were so many options, and once you took your pick you sat down next to ayaka.

after dinner was over, you fell asleep almost instantly. you quite literally handed in your empty dish, bid ayaka and thoma a goodnight, and headed to shower. once you got out, you found ayato lying on his side. the night ended when you curled into his chest, shutting your eyes.

kaedehara kazuha

he started your day by waking you up with breakfast in bed, and a fresh cup of tea to go with it. after you finished eating, you both grabbed the presents you had for one another and exchanged gifts. he didn't splurge, he got you something that would be meaningful to you for the rest of your life. he's not one to attempt to buy your love.

you took a long walk. it was very refreshing - the harbor was bustling, and the breeze was cool and crisp, perfect sweater weather in your opinion. you took a break on a cliff, watching the waves, and eventually watching the first part of the sunset before walking back home.

dinner wasn't very big, making smaller portions that you both knew you could eat and going from there. he surprised you with a bottle of nice wine, and you drank that with the steak that was also served.

while cleaning the kitchen, there was christmas music playing in the background, and you both were dancing along a little bit. eventually, a song you both enjoyed came on, and you dropped everything and started to slow dance.

slow dancing ended up laying on top of one another on the couch, your head on his chest. and eventually, you closed your eyes. another successful christmas, you think to yourself.

boothill

this could go two ways. he could absolutely forget the holiday even existed and goes about it on a normal day, or he'd be super excited about it.

if it goes the first way, you'd just continue your day as if it was any normal day. you'd give him a small little gift though, and he'd immediately feel bad because he forgot. please reassure him that the gift isn't the thing that matters the most to you.

he'd take you out to a nice dinner, though. penaconys fanciest restraunt. he thinks it's the least he can do to make up for him being forgetful, and it worked. you completely forgot about the fact that he forgot the gift, and he eventually made it up to you by finding something really worth it and bringing it back to you.

if it went the second way, he'd probably wake you up pretty early to show you your present. you'd be scrambling to grab his and he'd be right up your ass until you saw everything he gave you (who can blame him? he's proud of himself).

he wants to spend all day with you. he also made sure to establish a while ago that there must be a tree. to really get into christmas spirit! you'd make a fire and watch some movies before he has you come with him to a nice dinner.

it's not the nicest place in penacony, but the food is certainly amazing. you chatter over your food, catching up with one another since he had just arrived from a pretty long mission.

the night ends with cuddles, cuddles, and even more cuddles! he hasn't seen you in a while, he's obviously gonna want to be all over you for the time he has with you. he falls asleep immediately, which leads you to slumber, as well.

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writingbyshiloh · 1 year ago

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Third Time's the Charm

Request: Hii,if your request are still open can i request something for Gen V?Can you write something where Jordan and fem reader are childhood best friends and Jordan had always been in love with her but they feel insecure because they don’t know if reader will like them in both forms romantically?So when,in ep 3,Jordan dad goes like “Y/n and Jordan will be husband and wife” reader goes “Maybe we will be wife and wife”because she loves Jordan just like they are?

AN: Reader wants to be the first supe president (just to explain why they’re at the gala), I changed the timeline of the ep a tiny bit. I have another request about meeting Jordan's parents but that one might be more angsty.

CW: fem!reader, kissing, no beta, Jordan's parents are just their warning. The start is all flashbacks so I may have slipped on the tense a few times, no beta

WC: 2.0K

Jordan Li was your first kiss. Twice. The first time was in kindergarten, when they tried to kiss you and you smacked them with your Queen Mauve lunch box. Your second first kiss (the one you consider your actual first kiss) was done by you while playing truth or dare at 14. After picking a dare, you were asked to kiss the best-looking guy in the group. You shrugged and picked your best friend - Jordan.

At age six, they were there when you broke your ankle trying to see if you could fly (you couldn’t). When you did get powers, they were the first person you told.

When Jordan came out to you as bigender, you did an internet deep-dive, trying to understand as much as possible.

Jordan listened to every interaction you had with your high school crush while quietly dying inside, wanting you to be happy. When your high school boyfriend cheated on you and then dumped you for the girl he cheated with, Jordan was there, ready to sink hours into their Xbox to keep you distracted.

The worst week of your life was when you didn't speak to Jordan for 9 whole days. You got into a petty argument where you called them self-absorbed and they called you clingy. The fight snowballed into yelling arguments and ended with you receiving a cold shoulder from Jordan.

When Jordan got their wisdom teeth removed, you camped out in their room, snuggled under their duvet with them to watch Property Brothers for two days straight. You even made sure they took their painkillers on time and used ice packs.

Every fight with their parents, you were outside in your car ready to pick up Jordan to stay with you. Once you showed up at their house at 6:03 am, eyes blurry with sleep and still in pyjamas. Jordan was crying, bob haircut looked messy from sleep. You drove them to Vought-A-Burger, still half asleep and ate greasy breakfast sandwiches in your car until Jordan stopped crying.

Jordan was even your date to prom, taking photos with you in their masculine form to get their parents off their back. Once their parents were happy, you snuck them back to yours, where you stashed their prom dress.

You both even applied to God U together. Too nervous to check your acceptance, Jordan checked yours and you checked theirs. Sitting across from each other on your bed you both log in before giving the laptops to each other.

“Okay, three, two, one…” you counted down, opening Jordan’s laptop. Your eyes scanned for any promising words like congratulations, or welcome. "Accepted" was the first word your eyes caught but you need to fuck with them.

“Jord… I’m so sorry.” You start. Their face falls, and you feel like a dick for doing this. But the opportunity is too good to pass up. “That you believed me! Because you got in!”

They lunged across your bed to see what the screen says. You saw Jordan's eyes scan the same letter you just read, picking out the same words.

“You’re such an asshole!” they told you, rolling their eyes, gently hitting your arm with the back of their hand

You’ve never been shy about showering Jordan with compliments. Saved in screenshots never to see the light of day, Jordan has kept some of them.

You: OMG!!! Jordan you’re so pretty. I’m so lucky to call you my friend.

You: You’re so handsome!!! I love your hair slicked back! If she doesn’t agree you need to drop her.

You: ur a solid 9/10. Lost a point for not giving me a sip of your drink yesterday lol

Jordan Li has been in love with you since age 16. Probably earlier, if they want to admit that to themselves. You’ve only ever expressed interest in men so they kept their feelings to themselves, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, figuring it was better to have you as a friend only than not at all.

In your first year, you were even roommates. While Jordan flourished in crim, you bounced between majors before settling into politics.

Every time you brought some frat guy to your shared dorm, Jordan died inside. Trying to get over their long-standing crush, Jordan did the same.

When Jordan made number 2 on the top five, you celebrate with them. Maybe a bit too hard that night.

You were there when their ranking dropped after the death of Brink. A man you only met twice, but you would do anything for Jordan. Especially given how hard you fell for both versions of them last year.

“I’m going to try to tag team with your dad, get some points for you and keep him engaged, yeah?” You ask over your shocker. Jordan is behind you, ready to help with zipper duty for your dress.

“You don’t have to.”

You let out a small scoff. “Dude. I’m doing poli supe. Schmoozing with rich people is like half our courses. Zip me up please.”

“How long have you known Jordan? You seem to be a good couple.” The man you and Jordan's dad suckered into a conversation asks. He's sitting beside Jordan's parents, while you and Jordan are on the edge of some fancy pit or table.

“Well, these two have known each other pretty well over the years. Jordan tried to kiss her when they were kids, and she hit him with her Black Noir lunch box.”

“It was a Queen Mauve lunch box, actually.” You say with a laugh.

“And she called him ‘Jojo’ for probably the next two years out of spite.” Kayla laughs. It's a special embarrassment when your parents tell stories about your childhood. All the stories are about you but it's been so long ago you can’t remember any of it. Jordan looks worse off, slouchy posture against the banister, while you sit next to him. Part of you wants to tell him to sit up straight, but you figure you can play the grief angle better this way.

“Oh, and remember when Jordan got his wisdom teeth out? You guys were inseparable. I think I still have the photo of you two passed out watching TV!” Kayla gushes, reaching for her phone to find the photo.

“We all thought you two would be president and First Gentleman.” Dad insists. Your smile is fake and tight, knowing if Paul pulls out prom photos, you would have to quietly fling yourself out of a window.

Maybe you drank a bit too much liquid courage. Maybe the tension between them and their parents was getting to you. To give Jordan some space, you took their parents for a tour of your classes, knowing they’ll be talking to your family when they go back to Rochester.

Jordan shifting doesn’t even cause you to raise an eyebrow, the subtle sound just blurs into the background.

“Or president and First Lady.” You blurt out, four pairs of eyes darting towards you. “First supes in the Whitehouse? It would be political dynamite.”

“You like this version of Jordan?” Dad asks with bewilderment.

“Of course. I like Jordan because of how smart and driven they are. I like Jordan because of their weird sense of humour. It doesn’t matter what they look like.” you say, trying to prove it to their parents, but also to them. You’ve picked up on their crush many times, too kind to say something that would embarrass them or hurt them. It’s only recently how much you found yourself staring at fem Jordan and wanting to kiss her too.

“I’m going to go and mingle some more.” says the man, Brad or Rob maybe. You forgot his name right after you met him. His words are like a bucket of cold water was dumped over you. You don’t confess your feelings to Jordan just to Jordan, but in front of their judgy parents, and a possible donner. You need to go.

You stand and straighten out your dress.

“I’m going to go too. Other donors to talk to. Go Jordan!" You finish with an awkward laugh and even more cringy go team! gesture by yourself.

You didn't lie to Jordan and their parents. You did go and talk to other donors but it twists your stomach every time you bring up how amazing their grades are, or how skillful they are at fighting. After donor number three gives you an answer that technically was “we’ll see” but heavily implied to be "yes for Jordan” you went to hide in the bathroom. You have enough battery left on your V-phone to keep it going for most of the night. Tomorrow you can talk to Jordan and hope you don’t fuck it all up.

You barely look up when the door opens, already have done too much for the day to care who it is.

‘Hey, can we talk?” You snap to attention at the voice. Of course, you know that voice. It's Jordan, still feminine presenting.

“Fuck, Jord, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have spring that on you. I promise I’ll just go back and try to get you some votes, you’re going through a lot.” You say, in a rush to get the words out, desperate not to fuck up you’re friendship. The rim of the sink is hard against your back but you can’t help but shrink into it.

“Did you mean it?” They ask, still keeping a distance from you.

“Yeah, of course, I don’t want to ruin this friendship.”

“No, what you said in front of my parents.”

Oh right. Your confession. Fuck. It's already out there, might as well keep it going.

“I may, uh-” you curse yourself for leaving your drink outside the bathroom, wanting something in your hands to stall. “-have a crush. On you. My best friend.” You twist your hands together, wishing Jordan didn’t look so pretty. If your heart beats any faster you may go into cardiac arrest.

It's Jordan that indicates your third first kiss. It's gentle, and fast, like the second one. She pulls back quickly, but you run your fingers through her hair and pull her closer. The intensity from the first first kiss is still there, only this time you both share it. Her hand smooths up to your face, thumb stroking your cheek in a silent invitation to open your mouth. You comply, and tilt your head into her palm. Her tongue sweeps into your mouth and you can taste the champagne they were drinking.

The sound of the door opening makes you both jump.

“Stall?” You ask, voice low and hushed. You squirm out from where she has you between the sink and her. You push the door open to the nicest-looking stall, desperate to keep kissing Jordan. They follow your lead eagerly, one hand wrapped around your shoulder to keep you near.

Dipping their head, they softly kiss your jaw before moving onto your neck. You silently thank the other two women arguing in the bathroom so that your gasp goes unnoticed. Giving Jordan's hair a small tug, you pull them back up to you. The shit-eating grin they flash you makes you want to almost get caught again.

Your free hand moves to their waist, trying to get as close to them as physically possible.

You pull back slightly, wanting so desperately to get lost in the moment, but the commotion in the other stall is distracting. Plus you’re nosey.

Jordan frowns when you pull away, eyes scanning your face for something they did wrong. You shake your head and tip it over to the stall.

“The fuck?” They mouth to you, hand still around your shoulder.

You gently push Jordan against the door to give yourself space to squat down. You see two pairs of feet in the stall across the wall. You hear the voices quiet down, before the sound of someone peeing. You frown slightly, weird fetish to do at a memorial gala but you hear rumours about students into more fucked up shit.

“We should get outta here.” You whisper to Jordan.

“Weird place for our third first kiss.” Jordan whispers back. You reach around them to unlock the stall door. Third first kiss. You replay the words in your head, a warm feeling blooming in your chest.

You gently push them out of the stall, trying to keep your laughs quiet as you both scurry past the other couple in the stall.

#I read it once for spelling and flow then released it to the world #jordan li x reader #jordan li x y/n #jordan li imagine #gen v x reader #gen v x y/n #gen v imagine #whew this got out of hand #time to talk about jordan

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ryescapades · 2 months ago

Note

Hello Rye darling! Happy holiday season(if you celebrate) and happy almost birthday! May I have slice one sfw with Ume with number 6 (or 20 if it speaks to you more.) Also It might be early but extra good luck on your finals!! 🍀✨

→ EVENT OVERVIEW

prompt: 20 - “is that my shirt?” characters: umemiya hajime (wbk) x gn!reader contents: fluff !! did i characterise him correctly here idk :/ wc ~ 1k (a few words extra but oh well)

a/n: mariii thankyou sm for participating and the kind words (and the one from my tree as well) ilyy !! <3 i will do my super duper best on my finals now thx to you >:)) and happy holidays to u too !! hopefully i did your man justice with this 🙂‍↕️

getting up late on a tuesday morning was not on your to-do-list this week.

working a morning shift as a waitress at cafe pothos alongside kotoha, you’d usually clock in a few hours before midday but you’d promised kotoha to help out with today’s opening, which means you have to be there much earlier than usual.

you had it all planned out too; wake up just as the sun rises, greet your elderly neighbours who tend to wake up at ass o’clock in the morning and maybe lend a hand or two if they ever decide today’s a good day to finally fix their broken porch lamp, and then if you’re feeling up to it, maybe grab some warm pastries from cactus as your breakfast.

well, you were supposed to do all that.

but after such an exhausting day of running errands for the townsfolk with your boyfriend the day prior, you were out cold the moment your beloved ume offered to give you a piggyback ride home. your body was so worn out that you slept even worse than the dead!

turning the corner and almost tripping on your feet on the snowy pavement, the clock strikes the hour at which your usual shift starts.

oh, you’re so screwed.

you’ll never hear the end of it. kotoha will start nagging about ditching her and will forever hold it against you (though you know it’s never going to be in malice), and you’d be labelled as a bad friend (by your own self), and she might not deem you reliable anymore (that’s what you think, at least), and - and—

“I’M SO SORRY I’M LATE!” without thinking twice, you burst through the entrance of cafe pothos, the door slamming back against the wall as you chest rises and falls rapidly from how heavily you’re breathing. you brace your palms on your thighs, feeling the cramps crawling up your muscles from the sudden morning workout.

silence meets you as a response, and you slowly raise your head after a few choked breaths. the sight that greets you makes you burn almost as hot as the sun, if not more.

kotoha with her hands holding a container of sauce, hovers in midair above a plate of omurice for sakura who sits just in front of her with his face resembling a deer caught in headlights. you can see some (or is that half of them?!) of the main furin boys are huddled together in one table, now silenced at the sight of you. your best friend blinks in surprise at your sudden appearance before she opens her mouth, “oh, you’re he—“

kotoha doesn’t get to finish her sentence.

out of nowhere there is a body barrelling towards you, knocking the air out of your lungs as the person pulls you into a crushing hug.

“Y/N, MY DEAR, THERE YOU ARE!”

your lips part in surprise just as you hear sakura chokes on his saliva somewhere in the back. “hajime?! wh-what are you doing here?” you stumble over your words, slightly pulling away from his hold.

umemiya looks at you with a particular shine in his eyes, crystalline hues gleaming with that clear adoration. you bashfully duck your head away to look at kotoha instead.

“please, don’t mind about this morning. this guy has already told me that you wouldn’t be here for the opening so he offered to help instead.” she explains while nodding towards ume, smiling as she pushes the plate of omurice towards a flustered sakura. the boy immediately digs in, trying his best to not look so visibly affected by how intimately close ume is holding you to him.

you turn back to your boyfriend, stunned. “you did that?” almost as if proud of himself, he eagerly nods, grinning so widely that even you can’t help but to smile along.

“‘course i did! you were so tired last night so i figured you needed the rest. can’t have my pretty girl deprived of her beauty sleep, now can we?” he gently croons before placing a little boop on the tip of your nose, causing you to flush under his stare.

then he perks up again as he seemingly remembers something, “oh, right! come inside, come inside! some new ingredients just arrived this morning so our amazing kotoha here has been trying out new recipes with us!” ume urges you to unzip your jacket so that he could hang it up for you, though when you do as he instructed, his eyes are immediately drawn to the baby blue sweater you’re wearing underneath.

you questioningly follow his gaze, and the two of you lift your heads up at the same time to look at each other. “is that my shirt?” he asks, head tilting to the side like a curious puppy.

the piece of clothing is obviously big on you, the sleeves running past the length of your arms and causing your hands to form cute little sweater paws that had ume nearly melted on the spot. there’s a little ‘U.H’ scrawled just at the hem of the sweater, faint and thoroughly faded from the amount of wear and wash; a habit the well-known umemiya hajime had picked up from the years he’d been living in the orphanage.

you scrunch up your nose, cringing slightly as you’re reminded of your panicked state earlier this morning that you didn’t even bother looking at what shirt you’d grabbed from the closet.

“yeah, it’s yours…” you trail off and before you know it, ume is pulling you into another hug, nuzzling your cheek with his as he rambles on about ‘how beautiful his girlfriend is’ or ‘ahh, she’s so adorable i might just die here!’ or something along those lines.

at that point, sakura is shoving all the food into his mouth like there’s no tomorrow, suo and nirei are worried over sakura, hiragi is yelling at ume to ‘at least let your girlfriend sit down first! you’re blocking the entrance!’, kotoha is shaking her head in exasperation while the others just laugh, mildly entertained at the whole ordeal.

what a way to start your morning, huh?

slipped in a lil ume hc of mine as well :>

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

#umemiya hajime x reader #umemiya hajime x you #hajime umemiya x reader #hajime umemiya x you #umemiya hajime fluff #wind breaker x reader #windbreaker x reader #windbreaker x you #wind breaker (satoru nii)#1kakes event 🎂#🥣 rye works #wind breaker x you #wind breaker x y/n

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aemondloverr · 3 months ago

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𝐀 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐎𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐭. 𝐈𝐈𝐈

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐕𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟒 • 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 • 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 • 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: At breakfast, an important event is announced, and you and cregan spend time in Wintertown, just outside the wall.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: A bit of gossip, bratty brother, denial of feelings, and a jealous man.

𝐰𝐜: 6.9k💀

𝐀/𝐍: I think I'll take a bit of a break after this just because I need to lock in for school :( NGL this is a boring ahhh filler chapter but it’s necessary for pacing☝️🥸 I PROMISE. Or else it would be going way too fast. Trust me. I want it to get freaky already too. There ARE some cute things in there tho.

This may come as a surprise or not a surprise but I feel like I should’ve said this earlier 😭…This series is a Medium-burn. Not SLOW but to get to the best parts, you gotta make it to the end😔

This was originally going to be a one shot and then I thought up a backstory. Then it was 3 parts. And that was a GREATLY underestimated number. Now it’s going to be 6 or 7 parts now so uh…😃 yea…

p.s I did NOT proof read

❆ • ❆ • ❆ • ❆

𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐩:

You don't want to fall back into old patterns, let alone complicate your current situation. It hurt you to hurt him the way you did but you have to be strong...and yet, deep down, something inside you yearns for the familiarity of his presence, the warmth of his smile, the feel of his touch…

You lift the lid of the food he brought and your eyes land on a small piece of paper tucked among the food. It's a note, penned in a neat and familiar handwriting. The ink is dark, the words written with a strong and decisive hand.

As you read the words, you can almost hear Cregan's voice in your mind, the deep timbre of his tone echoing in your ears.

It reads:

"I hope the food is to your liking. Sleep well, Princess..."

A note so kind yet you were so cruel.

Tonight was not a night you slept soundly, but rather, a night you pondered your words.

❆ • ❆ • ❆ • ❆

The next morning…

Cregan rises from bed and quickly begins readying himself for the day, thinking of the promise you made to spend the day with him. After some time, he finishes preparing and makes his way through the castle, heading towards your chambers, his heart thumping in his chest. A part of him feels wary of what mood you’d be in today.

Dismissive? Angry maybe? Would you make snide remarks or would you be on the more kind and tolerating side?

There is a knocking heavily on your door and you’re awoken. All you can do is groan in bed.

“Who is at my door this early?… its just past first light...”

Cregan’s smile widens at your groggy grumble from within the room and he responds, his voice holding a hint of amusement.

"Who do you think?"

“Just…wait outside. I’m not yet decent.”

He steps back from the door, leaning against the wall as he responds.

"Take your time. I'm not going anywhere."

He can hear the faint sounds of movement coming from within the room- sheets being thrown aside, bed creaking lazily, your tired groans and mutterings. You walk over to your wardrobe and take off your shift, quickly replacing it with a dress. It’s the thickest you have, though not near thick enough to shield from the biting cold of your room after the fire in the hearth is burnt down to just embers.

After you put on your dress, you attempt to put on your corset by yourself, but to no avail. As Cregan waits outside, his ears perk up, hearing the sound of you struggling with your corset. His expression turns to one of slight amusement, a hint of a smile on his lips as he imagines you cursing and mumbling, trying and failing to lace it yourself.

“I don't know why I bother with this stupid, silly thing..." you mutter.

His amusement only grows, and he has to bite back an actual chuckle.

"Cregan?! Could you grab someone to help me, quickly!”

Cregan’s ears perk up again as he hears you call from within the room, and he pushes off from the wall and walks up to the door, responding in a quiet voice.

“Sure, but can’t I just-”

He was thinking of coming in and helping you lace it up himself but he cuts himself off as he realizes how improper that would sound, color rising to his cheeks. He clears his throat and responds again, trying to sound casual and nonchalant.

“Never mind that. I’ll- I’ll go get someone.”

He quickly locates a handmaiden or a maid in the nearby corridors and explains the situation and she nods and follows him back to your room, her own mind undoubtedly wondering what's going on.

As Sara, the handmaiden, walks in, she finds you standing there in your half-laced corset, a look of relief on your face. She can't help the small smirk that graces her own lips as she looks at you, no doubt imagining all the things that could have led to this situation - a hasty morning tryst, possibly a stolen night of passion… but none of those are the case of course.

"Thank you Sara…"

She smiles at you as she takes over the task of lacing up your corset, pulling the strings taught, cinching it tightly.

"My pleasure, Princess. Anything else you need this morning?"

"Could you brush my hair...? Style it perhaps, the Northern way?"

You want to dress the traditional style of their people if you want them to have a reason to favor you. Sara grins and nods quickly, already reaching for the brush on the nearby table.

"Of course, Princess. I'd be honored to style your hair. Just have a seat, and I'll have you looking Northern in no time!"

You take a seat on the chair in front of the vanity, and Sara moves behind you. She gently runs the brush through your hair, as she gathers sections, braiding and twisting it in a traditional style, the ones great ladies of house Stark wore.

Sara hums gently as she works, her fingers moving with practiced ease. Every now and then, she glances up to study her work in the mirror, making sure the braids and knots are in their rightful places.

"You have very lovely hair, Princess. It's a pleasure to style it."

"Thank you it looks lovely."

She finishes the last braid and gives it a final twist, securing it in place with a small pin. She steps back, a satisfied smile on her face as she admires her work, eyes sweeping over you from head to toe and taking in your now-styled hair and laced corset.

"There. All done, Princess. You look like a proper Northerner now!"

You stand from the seat, pleased with the finished product, smiling ear to ear.

"Absolutely gorgeous," she murmurs, her tone filled with approval and appreciation.

She can't help but smile back at your radiant expression, feeling very satisfied with her contribution to your appearance. However, a knowing sparkle in her eye betrays the fact that she's just dying to ask...

"May I ask who it is you're getting all dolled up for, Princess?" Of course she's caught right on.

"Dolled up? Why this is quite casual, is it not?" You get up, crossing the room to put on the pelts too large, given to you by Cregan the previous night.

Sara giggles and rolls her eyes, unable to hide her knowing smile. She follows you across the room as you move to don the pelts, eyebrow raised in slight suspicion.

"Oh, of course. I can definitely see how getting your hair braided and fussing over a corset can be 'quite casual', how silly of me Princess!"

"Oh quiet about him. I'd just like to be presentable, in case townspeople see me..."

It's quite an obvious lie. And Sara is clearly not convinced by your flimsy excuse, but decides to tease you a bit more anyway.

"And does this have anything to do with the fact that Cregan is waiting outside, looking oh so impatient to see you?"

Right on the money.

"No...A Princess should look the part at all times, is all..."

"Of course, Princess..."

"Id planned this outfit before I came North. So yes it's pure coincidence."

No royal ever packs all of their own bags for long trips so clearly, another lie. She looks you up and down one more time, taking in the complete picture of you in your Northern-style hair, corset, and pelts.

"Well, I'll admit, Princess, you look absolutely stunning. I don't think Cregan will be able to keep his eyes off you." She winks playfully, laughing at the heat creeping onto your cheeks.

"Sara Shh!! He's right outside the door!!"

Sara laughs and puts a hand over her mouth, trying to muffle her giggles and responding in a hushed whisper.

"You're right. Wouldn't want the poor Northern Lord to overhear us speaking of his obvious affections, now would we?"

"Are you trying to give me away? Quiet!”

Sara laughs again, unable to contain her amusement at your flustered state. She nods and responds in a mock-serious tone.

"As you wish, Princess. My lips are sealed. I'll refrain from mentioning the Lord of Winterfell's pining heart. At least when he's close by."

Sara watches you leave, and she can't help but feel a pang of sympathy and amusement at your flustered state and denial, knowing full well the truth. You like him just as he likes you, though, you hide it better than he does.

"Have a lovely day, Princess," she calls out after you, tone dripping with sarcastic sweetness.

You just roll your eyes as, you often do.

Sara laughs heartily at your eye-roll, enjoying that she's managed to ruffle your feathers a bit. She gives you one last wink and watches as you walk out of the oom, eyes following you all the way to the door.

Cregan is leaned against the wall, waiting patiently for you to finish getting ready. He hears the sound of the door opening, and he looks up, his eyes widening when he sees you emerge from the room. His gaze slowly trails over you, taking in the sight of your braided Northern-style hair and the fit of the corset beneath the pelts that seem to swallow you whole.

“Shall we go to breakfast?”

He nods, unable to tear his gaze away.

"Yes...yes, of course. Then to the market after." he manages to choke out, voice slightly hoarse. He walks next to you in silence, his eyes fixed straight ahead. His heart is pounding in his chest, his stomach tied in knots. He can't really bring himself to speak, mind still filled with thoughts from the previous day.

He glances at you from the corner of his eye, but your expression is neutral, tension in your shoulders. The silence hangs heavily between the two of you, an unsettling reminder of the argument from yesterday.

The silence is awkward and neither of you want to talk.

Cregan steals glances at you as you walk, and unbeknownst to you, he's still fixed on the way youv'e readied yourself this morning.

Thats how she'd be dressed of she was the lady of-

He stops the thought in its path before he could even finish it, taking a deep breath as to not get flustered.

As you descend the stairs of the great keep and step out into the yard, eyes turn towards the two of you. A few Stark guardsmen standing nearby do a double-take at your appearance. Some of them whisper to each other.

Cregan notices the looks and glares, a hint of possessiveness flaring in his eyes as he guides you towards the entrance of the great hall.

He keeps one hand on your lower back, fingers splayed over the pelts. The noise and activity of the room die down somewhat as the people inside catch sight of you, many of them whispering and murmuring amongst themselves.

“Remove your hand please…” You whisper.

He looks a little hurt, a tinge of disappointment in his voice when he responds, trying his best to act unbothered.

"Sorry. I...sorry. I forgot myself for a moment…"

To your surprise, everyone in the hall stands in your presence.

“No no please, be seated.”

The Lord opposite you hurriedly stands to pull out your chair, practically tripping over himself to do so. The rest of the Lords and Ladies take their seats once more. He's clearly a little flustered by your appearance, eyes roaming over your face with a look in his eye that you cant quite place.

Cregan watches the lord, his jaw clenching ever so slightly. He can feel his possessive nature flaring up again, not liking the way the he's shamelessly ogling you right before his eyes.

Not that cregan hadn't been ogling you himself as well.

"Thank you. you are too kind!”

The Lord blushes slightly at your words, his eyes still taking in the sight of you in pelts and braids. He stutters, his voice hoarser than before as he responds..

"It's- it's nothing, my lady. It's an honor, truly, to host a guest as fine as yourself here at Winterfell."

“It’s my honor entirely. Winterfell is very beautiful!”

The Lord practically beams with pride at your compliment. The few other lords and ladies gathered at the table also nod in agreement, clearly flattered that a Southron princess is complimenting their home.

Cregan can't help but roll his eyes at the lord's reaction, silently amused and somewhat annoyed at the man's obvious attempts at currying your favor.

Sounds of forks and cutlery clattering against plate fills the hall as everyone eats.

Maybe you could use this to get back at Cregan…

The idea forms quickly in your mind, a small smile slowly spreading across your lips. You play into the lord's ego, leaning in slightly and giving him an appreciative smile, your eyes sparkling with charming sweetness.

"You flatter me, my Lord," you murmur, your voice lower and velvety-soft.

"Could I ask you something, princess?"

"Yes?”

He leans in slightly closer, as if sharing a secret, his voice lowered to a whisper.

"I do hope you won't think me too forward in asking, but...do you have plans for this evening?

You take a moment to pretend to gather your thoughts, letting the Lord bask in his excitement and anticipation. You glance across the table, meeting Cregan's eyes for a split second before looking away again.

“I do not. Why do you ask?”

The Lord is clearly flustered by your closeness and your sweet demeanor as he responds.

"Hunting parties today, my princess. We- we have a few set to head out to the Wolfswood a few hours before noon."

“For what purpose? Is there an event or something of the sort?”

"Yes, there is a feast this evening in your honor. It's tradition here to hunt when there is a...guest of importance on an extended stay at Winterfell. It is considered good fortune and-"

Cregan cuts in, unable to refrain from interrupting once more, his eyes fixed on yours as he adds,

"And an opportunity to display one's skills to our guest. To prove one's worth, as it were."

Just the response you wanted. Jealousy.

“That’s a similar tradition we do in the South also, except it’s for the King usually.”

The Lord nods in agreement, his heart practically beating out of his chest, bursting at your apparent interest in him.

"Quite true, my lady. It is a custom that goes back centuries here in the North. And we take great pride in honoring our guests appropriately."

“Well let us make this a bit more interesting for the people, shall we?”

The room falls silent as you stand up and tap your glass gently, all eyes turning to you, including Cregan's. The lords and ladies at the table watch you expectantly, wondering what you're about to say.

“Good morning, lords and ladies. I’ve been made aware of the feast to come this evening in mine and my brother's honor,”

Nods and murmurs of acknowledgement come from the other lords and ladies around the table. They all seem eager to know more about the upcoming feast, clearly looking forward to the celebration.

“I’d like to pose a challenge for those participating later at noon…Whoever brings me the largest game shall win my hand at the dance this evening!!”

There are gasps and low murmurs of surprise from the lords and ladies around the table at your declaration. Many of them are clearly taken aback, and a few look even envious at the prospect of being your partner at the dance.

Now that’s something worth raising a glass too.

A few of the lords and ladies around the table immediately raise their cups, clearly excited and motivated by your offer. They all toast to the challenge, already making silent plans on how they can outdo the others and win your favor.

You take your seat again as the lords and ladies around the table continue their conversations, most of them now talking about the upcoming challenge and the possibility of winning your favor at tonight's feast. Cregan sits across from you, his eyes fixed on your face, a mixture of irritation and disappointment in his gaze.

You question him, feigning obliviousness.

“What’s wrong?”

Cregan's eyes narrow slightly as he looks at you across the table, his jaw clenched.

"You know exactly what's wrong. You're offering your hand as a prize to the first hunter to bring you a big stag. What game are you playing at?"

“It’s just a bit of fun, lighten up!”

Cregan's eyes flash with irritation as he grits his teeth, clearly not amused by your nonchalance.

"Just a bit of fun, is it? Offering yourself up like a prize to be won? Can't you see how dangerous and foolish you're being?"

“Do not argue at your own table with your guest. It is impolite and rude, Lord Stark”

Cregan's jaw clenches tightly at your rebuke, a flicker of anger in his eyes. But he holds his tongue, reluctantly swallowing back the retort that nearly spills from his lips. He knows you're right, but it doesn't make him any less angry about the situation.

He forces a tight smile.

"Yes, of course, my princess. Forgive me for my lapse in courtesy."

You begin to talk to the lord beside you again. Cregan watches from across the table as he continues to talk your ear off, his eyes fixed on you. It takes every ounce of self-control he has to bite back the words that threaten to spill from his mouth, resisting the urge to snap at the man for hogging your attention.

He stabs at the food on his plate like an angry child.

“I did not catch your name. Lord…?”

The Lord blushes slightly at your question, clearly flattered that you're showing an interest in him.

"Oh, forgive me, my princess. How foolish of me to forget such an important detail. I am Lord Harwin Flint, the son and heir to Lord Wylis Flint of Widow's Watch."

“Quite a long way you are from Widows Watch.”

"Indeed, my lady. Winterfell is not the closest place to my home, but the Starks are an ancient and respected family, and I’d feel honored to be in attendance at such a splendid feast."

“Of course,” you smile before taking another bite of your food.

*****

Soon after, breakfast concludes.

The lords and ladies around the table begin to stand up, signaling the end of the morning meal. A few of them cast glances in your direction, clearly still thinking about the challenge you proposed earlier.

Cregan stands up as well, his jaw clenched and his eyes fixed on you as you rise from your seat to leave the great hall. He walks beside you in silence for a few moments, eyes occasionally stealing glances in your direction. The air between you is thick with tension, though he makes no attempt to break it yet.

“What is it?"

Cregan glances at you, surprise briefly flitting across his face that you seem to have noticed his subtle glances. He considers you for a moment before speaking, choosing his words carefully.

"That young Lord Cedric. He seemed rather... taken with you."

His tone is neutral, but there's a hint of jealousy or possessiveness in his words.

"Well I am a Princess so..."

His jaw clenches slightly at your words, his jealousy evident in his expression. His eyes flash with a hint of anger as he responds.

"True, but the way he was looking at you... it was more than simple admiration."

He pauses, his voice dropping lower as he continues.

"He didn't just see a princess. He saw a woman to admire and possibly court."

"Oh nonsense-"

"No, I'm serious. I saw the way he kept glancing at you, the way he blushed like a boy when you thanked him. He was smitten, Princess."

He stops walking, turning to face you directly, his expression dark and intense.

"You can't tell me you didn't notice."

“Were you not staring at me too…?” I tease “for quite a long time might I add…”

"I was merely observing... as any lord does when a royal guest is in his domain."

He takes a step closer towards you, his gaze locking onto yours.

"And you're deflecting. We're talking about Lord Cedric, not me."

“Observing…I see…” I say sarcastically.

Cregan's smirk widens at your sarcastic tone, obviously amused. He takes another step closer to you, reducing the distance between you even further. His eyes never leave yours as he speaks, his voice now a low rumble.

"Oh, yes, 'observing'. I was observing your every movement, your every expression, your every reaction to Lord Cedric's attention."

He leans in slightly.

"And I didn't like what I saw."

"My conversation with Lord Cedric is not for you to like or dislike. Matters of the Princess of the realm are no matters for that of the Warden of the North"

"You're right. You are the Princess of the realm, and I am the Warden of the North. However, that does not mean I cannot have opinions or feelings regarding your interactions with my men."

He pauses, his gaze flickering over you for a moment before he continues.

"Lord Cedric is young and inexperienced. He doesn't appreciate the significance of your presence here- "

"We will speak of this no more. I did not come here to listen about how you don’t like when lords fancy me.”

Cregan's expression tenses at your firm tone, his jaw working with suppressed frustration. His eyes linger on you for a moment before he responds, his voice taut and strained.

"As you wish, Princess. But just remember, the North is a place of bluntness and honesty. Here, we say what we mean and mean what we say."

He takes another step towards you, his eyes not leaving yours as he continues, his voice low and intense.

"And I mean it when I say that I'm not fond of seeing you with other men."

You sigh, annoyed and walk away.

Cregan watches as you walk ahead, hands balling into fists as he tries to control his emotions.

He quickens his pace to catch up with you, strides long and purposeful, closing the distance between you in just a few steps. When he reaches your side, he reaches out and gently grasps your arm, stopping you in your tracks.

You turn abruptly.

Cregan's grip on your arm tightens for a moment before he releases you, his eyes locking onto yours. His expression is a mix of anger and something else – something you can't quite place, but it makes your heart beat a little faster.

"You can't just walk away from me like that."

“Then walk faster.” You pull your arm away.

For a moment, he looks as though he's about to grab your arm again and pull you back, but he restrains himself, letting out a frustrated huff instead.

"So, you're going to act like a petulant child now?" He asks, his voice laden with sarcasm.

"I am simply protecting my sanity and I will not allow you to destroy it. Not again."

Cregan's expression darkens at your words, his jaw tensing as he recalls the history between you. His eyes narrow, the memory of past hurts and disagreements stirring up his anger.

"I destroyed your sanity? Pray tell, how I managed to do that?" he retorts, his voice sharp and filled with bitter sarcasm.

“Can we not talk about this right now? It’s far too early in the morning.”

Cregan lets out a frustrated huff, his patience clearly wearing thin. He takes another step towards you, closing the gap between you even further. His gaze is intense and unwavering as he responds, his voice low and filled with an underlying hint of anger.

"You can't just bring up such a serious accusation and then refuse to elaborate. You're acting like a child."

You stop in your tracks suddenly. “You will do well to remember who you are speaking to. I’m here because I have to be, not because I want to. So save your interrogation for a later date.”

Cregan stops walking as well, his eyes narrowing at your response. His jaw clenches as he bristles at your words, his anger flaring up once again.

"And you would do well to remember who I am as well," he retorts, his voice filled with a hint of condescension.

"I am the Lord of the North and the Warden of this castle. You may be a princess, but you are a guest here. It would do you well to remember that, and show me the respect I am due."

“I don’t owe you anything-“

Cregan's anger spikes at your impudent response.

"You don't owe me anything, huh? You come into my castle, eat my food, expect me to house and protect you, and you don't think you owe me anything?"

“I didn’t ask you to-“

"I offered you my hospitality, and in return, all I ask is a little respect."

You take a breath, sighing because you know he’s sort of right. He is providing you. But it wasn’t your choice to come here in the first place.

“Fine then if you’re so desperate for it” you mutter, just to shut him up.

He crosses his arms over his chest, his stance still tense as he responds, his voice now calmer but still laced with a hint of sarcasm.

"Oh, gracious of you. I didn't know asking for basic decency was such a challenge for a Princess such as yourself."

You simply roll your eyes as you always do.

As you continue walking through the streets of the Wintertown, the people pause in their activities, their heads turning to watch you as you pass. Some stare openly, their curiosity and surprise evident on their faces as they whisper to each other. Others bow their heads reverently, their gazes filled with awe and admiration.

Cregan walks beside you, his gaze constantly flickering from you to the people around you, watching their reactions with a mixture of pride and possessiveness.

There was no time to keep glowering when you’re supposed to be looking the part so you quickly change your expression.

You give a polite smile and the people respond to your smile with smiles of their own, some even offering timid waves or friendly greetings as you pass by.

Your friendly waves and acknowledgments only seem to deepen the impact you have on the people around you. A few of the women even whisper amongst themselves, their eyes flicking towards you with a mixture of envy and admiration. Men watch you with respectful gazes, clearly noticing your beauty and regality.

The aroma of various stalls fills the air – the scents of freshly baked bread, exotic spices, and roasting meats.

Your irritation slowly starts to subside as you take in the vibrant atmosphere around you. Children laugh and play nearby, their youthful energy filling the air. The smell of street food beckons your taste buds, and the scent of fresh herbs and spices hangs heavily in the air.

Cregan glances over at you, noticing the way your face softens as you watch the children play. Though he tries to hide it by quickly redirecting his gaze.

Pussy.

Merchants and vendors take notice of you and Cregan and offer you various goods and trinkets, hoping to win your favor. Some present intricate jewelry, others, beautifuly crafted knives, and some offer the finest produce from local farms. They seem eager to please you and you cant help but take their gifts and buy their many things.

And Cregan, well he cant help but find your kindness towards his people a desirable trait, So much so, he almost forgets the reason for his foul mood.

Your mood has brightened with your now-many things in your hands, and you stumble upon a dress. Its made of fine materials, intricate details and its black and rich red color catching your attention. Cregan follows behind you as you approach it,

"Ma'am, who made this magnificent gown? It's just lovely! and these gloves as well? The shoes even? Theres a whole set?!"

The shopkeeper, ancolder woman witha friendly smiles, steps forward to greet you. She beans at your compliments, face lighting up with pride.

"Thank you Princess," she says. "My husband and I are the seamster and seamstress who crafted this dress. The finest kmaterials money can buy. The gloves and shoes are his work also!"

"How much for the whole set?" You see another fabulous dress "Oh and that one there too,"

The shopkeeper moves quickly to fetch the dresses and present them to you, holding them up so you can see the front and the back. "Excelent choice milady," she says witha smile "Teh set of the first dress, with the gloves and shoes will be...lets see...Thats 215silver stags." She tunrs her attention to the second dress. "As for the second dress, that one will be 150 silver stags."

You think on it for a second before deciding. You practically throw your bags onto Cregan to take out your coin purse. "Oh would it really kill to buy a few more dresses? I think not. I'll take the other two dresses there and the necklance and the-" At this point, youre buying out they entire stock.

He eyes widen and she quickly fetches the other dresses, the necklace and a few more acessories, presenting them to you. "Anything else you'd like...?

"One last thing! The-" Cregan gently puts a hand on you arm, interrupting you sentence. He casts a glance at the growing pile of bags and items you are to purchase on the shop's counter, obviously overwhelmed.

"No more," He groans with a hint of annoyance in his voice. Hes already suffering enough from the many bags hes having to carry. "Youv'e already got enough to fill a small carriage-"

"Here hold this."

Cregan lets out an exasperated sigh as you hand him yet another item to carry, casting a tired glance at you, eyes silently questioning why you need so many thing.

You turn back to the Shopkeeper. "Im afraid this is all I can get...for now. If it were upto me id buy your entire stall, but i must heed the advice of your Lord before he collapses."

He smile faulters when Cregan shoots her a stern glare, warning her not to test his limits any further, sighing as he adjusts the bags in his arms once again.

"Lets go already," He orders firmly, gestering for you to walk ahead.

You give 4 gold dragons "For you and your husband. May You make the most beautiful dresses."

The shopkeepers eyes widen in disbelief, mouth agape as she looks at the hefty payment in her hand. She looks up at you, eyes brimming with tears and gratitude. "Thank you, milady," she stammers, ver voice trembling slightly. "You are too generous. i will pass this along to my hisband, and we will surely amke many more beautiful dresses in your honr."

"I do hope so. Good day to you miss." You take the box and teh small bag with the jewelry meanwhile Cregan is still annoyed about being relegated to the status of your personal pack horse.

Except you don't ride him like one. I mean, maybe you will-

He hadn't realised that something as mundane as shopping to brighten your mood so much. But he can't deny the genuine happiness on your face and he find himself unable to stay anooyed for too long. He casts a sidelong glance at you, observing your joyous expression as you carry the dresses and other items.

By the time you reached the gate, cregan almost couldnt hold it any longer. He looked positively frazzled and his breath comes in short puffs, face flushed with exertion.

You still stride ahead and he follows after you, steping heavily, silently pleading for compassion an undrstanding. You seem oblivious to his struggle. That or, you simply dont care. People give amused glances, finding the sight of him lugging your items aound quite comical.

The guards at the hate cant help but let out quiet chuckles, amused by the sight of Cregan struggling and he asks them for help. He feels a pang of embarassment at having to ask for their assistance.

"Of course can give you a hand." He hoists them over his shoulder and his friend still fights to keep a straight face, the supressed laughter threatening to burst out at any moment.

Creganhands over a couple of bags and boxes, grateful for the assistance, but still feeling a bit humiliated at the specticle hes become.

Reaching the keep, you hold open the door. "Up to my chambers, thank you."

Cregan nods mutely, body aching and cheeks flushed from exhertion, and he looks completely drained. He struggles up the stairs, following you to your chambers.

"Just a little more ways away."

The guards enter your chambers aswell, still trying not to laugh. You let out a little chuckle yourself and its not helping at all.

Cregan casts a resentfull look as you do so. He sets down the bags and packages, back aching. He lets out a sigh of relief and rolls his shoulders in attempts to loosen the tension in his mucles.

He collapses into the chair beside your bed to relax his body

"Uh, excuse you."

"What?" he asks with a tinge of irritation

"You can relax in your own room."

He rises from the comfortable chair, departing to retire to his own chambers. He had hoped for a moment respite after carrying all of your things, but he cant blame you for wanting him gone.

you walk towars the door, opening it for him. Hes muttering under his breath, dicontent quite obvious in his tone. Something about "Women" and "Too many bags" as he walks past you.

After he laves, you begin to undress in order to try on your newly purchased ones.

That same moment Cregan leaves your room, Jace emerges from his. He observes his disheveled state, out of breath and hair ruffled. Jace then unexpectedly pushes open the door without knocking, anger evident on his face.

You almost yelp, covering your body with your dress. He takes in your half state of undress and it only makes him angrier.

"What the FUCK Jace?"

"What the fuck to you too, what were you doing with Cregan??" he asks, voice coming out in a low, heated tone.

"What are you talking about?? You cant just barge in here like that!"

His expression hardens, shoulders tese and jaw clenched. "I saw him leaving your room. You wanna tell me what the hell is going on between you and him?"

"Lower your tone, nothing is going on, he only-"

Jace scoffs, disbelief evident on his face. "Only what? Why was he in here in the first place?"

"First of all, dont speak to me like that young man. You speak with respect or your turn your ass right back around and leave. Secondly, He'd carried all of my bags from the market for me. and turn around"

He just rolls his eyes, and faces towards the door so you can put your dress back on "He carried your stuff from the market? And that warrented him being in your room?"

"I asked him to bring it to my room so yes."

He found your explanation unsatisfactory and crosses his arms. "And that required being in your room while your'e undressing? Really??" he turns back around

"Do you even hear yourself right now? Why would I have undressed while he was in the room-" The realization of what he was implying suddenly dawns on you.

"I thought..." he trails off awkwardly.

Oh gods he think we really- "I didnt fuck him if thats what you're asking, alright? Gods..." your cheeks heat up at the words coming out of your mouth. Well thats definately something you never saw yoruself saying.

You might even wish that what you said wasn't true.

"I wasn't saying you did-"

"Yes you were."

He lets out a sigh and reluctantly meets your gaze. "Alright maybe I was, but can you blame me? seeing him come out of your room while you were undressing... what else was I supposed to think?"

"Youre supposed to think rationally. If you wanted me to send you home so badly, you coudve just said so."

His expression falters and his features soften as he realizes the weight behind your words. "I dont want you to send me away," he says quietly, voice barely above a whisper, "Im just..i dont know, i overreacted."

"You keep doing this and I'm sick and fucking tired of it. I shouldn't have to threaten you for you to behave yourself..." you scold him with a disapointed tone. You thought he'd fixed his out of line behavior.

His shoulders sag, expression one of embarassment. "I overstepped I'm sorry..."

"Sorry isn't enough, this needs to change sooner or later. If you have concerns, you let me know, respectfully."

Jace nods, his head lowered in genuine remorse. "I will..." he promises.

"Go to your room."

He turns to leave, shoulders slumped in shame.

"And on more thing."

"yes...?"

"There is a feast tonight. I expect you to be cleaned up and presentable within the next few hours."

He lets out a small sigh. "Alright. I will. Anything else?"

"Knock next time. Please." He nods a third time and shuts the door behind him as he leaves.

"Gods that boy..." you mutter to youself. You make sure the door is locked this time as you undress again. "Hes so rash sometimes..." Youre still replaying the scene in your mind.

You continue to undress, shedding your outer layers until youre left in just your undergarments. Your top exposes a generous amount of skin and leaves very little to the imagination.

Knock knock knock.

"What do you want now Jace???"

There is a moment of confusion as you assumed it was Jace on the other side of the door. You call out again, your question lingering in the air, until the person on the other side replies.

"It's Cregan."

oh. "Yes?"

to your surprise he asks, "May I come in?"

"No I am not decent yet... what is it?"

cregan sesitates for a moment, clearly thrown off by your responce. he lets out a small cough, trying to maintain his composure. "Forgive me, I didnt lean to intrude. I...I just wanted to check in on you." He talks in a hushed tone now. "I heard you...arguing with Jace."

"Shouldn't you be resting?"

You let out a sigh and so does he.

"I was going to, but then i heard the commotion in your room and I couldn't help but worry."

"How much did you hear...?"

He pauses for a moment, mind racing as he tries to decide whether or not to be truthful. You were worried he heard the part where you said-

"I overheard most of it..."

Fuck.

"I know. it wsnt a plesant conversation to listen to."

He shakes his head to get the thoughts out of his mind. They're becoming dangerously more frequent for both of you.

"Well how much is 'most of it' ?"

Cregan leans against the doorframe, voice more quiet as he recounts what he had overheard. "You scolding Jace for barging in and jumping to conclusions about us... And.." Oh no here we go. He hesitates for a moment, voice getting even quieter.

"I heard you discussing the...less the appropriate implications he made about our...activities" He blushes furiously and awkwardly clears his throat. You silently cover your face on the over side of the door.

"Im so sorry you had to hear that..."

He shakes his head, trying to wave off your apology with a nonchalant gesture. But the blush on his face betrays his true feelings. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart.

"Its...Its alright," He assurs you "I shouldn't have listened in the first place."

"No we were too loud. Thanks for checking in on me." You reply

Cregan nods, his embarassment slowly fading as your words sink in. "Of course,"

You silently scream and punch the air, cursing Jace in your mind. Thinking back to those...activities, you blush too. You know he heard what you said.

"Okay.. Well um...Good luck on the hunt then. Go catch something big for me."

"You know I will," He replies, trying to sound confident. "I'll bring home the biggest buck you've ever seen."

"If you say so..." you taunt.

He grins, conficence rising at your doubtful tone. He cant let that go unchallenged. "Oh I do say so. I'll get that dance, just you wait."

"Off you go then."

As Cregan heads off to the stables, he can't shake the feeling of your prescence from his mind. The thought of you and the implications made still lingered, stirring up a maelstrom of emotions within him.

Maybe the things you said you hadn't done with Cregan, you wish you had.

He really just doesn't want any other lord to end up dancing with you. The image of another man, holding you in his arms makes his stomach churn uncomfortably. His mind fills with the image of him dancing with you and his heart quickens.

But then his thoughts take a more intimate turn and his imagination spirals out of control. Him holding you close, bodies pressed together, an embrace that borders on indecent. He can almost feel your warmth just thinking about it.

Cregan knows he shouldn't be thinking such things but he cant help it. That image of you, so close yet so far from his grasp, is consuming his mind and burning in his core like a raging fire.

❆ • ❆ • ❆ • ❆

𝐀/𝐍: SUMMARY: THEY JUST KEEP GETTING LONGER AND LONGER. I'm sorry for the boring filler guys (and for dissapearing) 😔 see you at part 4 when the feast happens. At the end of the feast things get a little heated xp

Don’t be afraid to leave me a suggestion in my inbox or the comments. And if you want to be tagged in the next chapter, just sign up for my tag list. The link is at the top of the post!

@beebeechaos @iv-vee @aemondwhoresworld @6ternalsun @obscure-beauty @cregansfourthwife @msmarvelknight @kingdomzeldaquest @littlebirdgot @squidscottjeanseans @jellybeanstacey0519 @r-3dlips @fakem0net @shiggynuggiez @deemee3 @melsunshine @lipgloss05 @cherryheairt @lovevouuu @darlingcharling-blog @pearldaisy @allexlacazette

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 5 months ago

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Jack Howl: Fluffy is Justice

Me, expecting Jack to be in a tank top and sweat pants:

Twst: HAH, you thought 😩

He looks so cozy! Apparently the patterns featured are inspired by Nordic ones. This makes sense since Jack is from a snowy region in the Shaftlands.

Rise and Shine!

Early to bed, early to rise.

Jack followed his regiment rigidly. He tucked into bed at 10 pm sharp every evening and rose at 6 am every morning. A protein-packed breakfast and a morning stretch, job, and weight-lifting session with Vil later, then he was off to classes. (Ace sometimes poked fun at him and declared he may as well be an honorary member of Heartslabyl.)

But sometimes life didn’t seem to want to cooperate with him.

Peering into a washroom mirror, Jack scowled at his reflection.

He must have been tossing and turning in his sleep—his hair stood on end. It looked as though he had plugged his tail into an electrical outlet, frying his fur.

The teeth of his comb wove through his mane. As soon as the comb retreated, the hair sprang back up again, as if deliberately defying him.

Jack gritted his teeth, letting loose a low growl.

Frustrated.

He checked his phone and nearly jumped out of his cardigan. He had spent longer than he had intended tackling his hairdo. If he didn't hurry it along, he would be late.

Can’t have that, Jack sighed. Guess I’ll have to skip fixing the hair today.

He laid down his comb and turned on the facet. Cold water spilled out and onto his hands.

SPLOOSH!

Jack ran his wet fingers through his hair, matting it with the weight of the water. Tamed, at least for the time being.

He blitzed through the rest of his routine, peeling off his pajamas and shimmying into his P.E. uniform. Grabbing a protein bar and his duffel bag--crammed full of his school supplies and his track and field uniform--Jack rushed out. No tardies on his permanent record, not today.

He was fast. A wolf sprinting, unrestrained, out of the Chamber of Mirrors and thundering down Main Street.

"Like the wind," Coach Vargas would remark.

"I have to catch up," Deuce, his fellow club member, would say.

"Way too eager," Ruggie would snicker.

"Jack!"

He came to a half at his name, his ears perking. There, standing by the statue of the King of Beasts, was a familiar face. You waved at him as he approached, a hand fiddling with the strap of his bag. It snapped against his beefy shoulder.

"... Hey. You're up early," he remarked gruffly.

"I wanted to catch you before you met up with Vil-senpai for your usual workout," you grinned. "Glad I did--I have something for you."

Reaching into your backpack, you produced a water bottle and a small container. Inside were sandwiches sliced into triangles: leftover canned tuna (courtesy of Grim), ham and cheese, and vegetables.

Surprise sparked in his amber eyes. His tail jutted up, wagging excitedly. "You made this for me?"

"I figured you'd need to keep your energy up since you've got a whole day of lectures afterwards," you said bashfully. "Sorry, did I overstep?"

"No, I... I don't think so at all." Jack cleared his throat. "Really. I appreciate this. I didn't pack any real food today. The timing couldn't be better."

Relief washed over your face. You offered the water and the sandwiches to Jack, who stiffened slightly when he felt the warmth of you grazing his fingers. He quickly pulled away, avoiding your gaze, and busied himself with shoving the snacks into his bag.

"Oh....!" you suddenly gasped.

"What's wrong?"

"Your hair, it's..." You gestured to your own.

"Yeah, I know it's a mess," he mumbled, his ears flattening in shame. "Didn't have the time to style it right earlier. I had to compromise."

You shook your head.

"It looks different than usual, but that's not bad. In fact, it's kind of cute."

"What? Cute...?" He scratched his chin. "Not sure if I'm getting it."

"Yes! It looks super fluffy, like a cloud. Or whipped cream on top of ice-cream or cake," you suggested. "And cuz it's sticking up so much, it's like it's inviting someone to come along and pat your head to smooth it down."

"Pat my head?!" His hands flew there, as if to protect him from the terror that was an aggressive head pat.

"You don't like the idea?"

"I-It's embarrassing!" he snapped. "Only my family goes and does stuff like that. I'm getting too old for head pats, anyway."

"That's a shame then. Fluffy things should be cuddled more! Fluffy is justice, after all." You linked your fingers together and chuckled. "Fluffy means plushies, blankets, and coats. All the things that make us feel warm and protected. It fills our hearts with happiness. You're the same, Jack. So... I don't think it's anything to be embarrassed by."

He stared at you, bewildered.

The sun warmed his cheeks--or were they warmed from within? And there it was again, the telltale way his tail moved, back and forth and back and forth, like a metronome.

"I... I guess so," Jack managed to say. “A-Anyway, I need to get going. I can’t keep Vil-senpai waiting.”

“Alright, I won’t keep you for any longer.” You gave another wave and a smile brighter than the sun. “Good luck!”

He nodded before surging off.

His face aflame.

Maybe being fluffy wasn't so bad after all.

#twisted wonderland #twst #Jack Howl #twst x reader #Jack Howl x Reader #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Jack birthday takeover #something no one asked for #Reader #self insert #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland scenarios

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ifortom · 2 months ago

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WINTER AHEAD (1/2) T.H.

Summary: An unexpected pregnancy at 21 completely changes the lives of two young people. Over time, their paths diverge, and their hearts bear the pain of separation. Yet, the life born from their love keeps them unbreakably connected, showing that some bonds transcend time and differences. Also, it’s Christmas time!

A/N: I wrote this suddenly and couldn’t stop, but it will be divided into two parts because it took a different turn than I expected. Oh, and I know Christmas is already over, but my brain only started working after the festivities ended. I brought up some topics in this text that might be sensitive and cause some discomfort, but in the next chapter, some things will be explained.

The sound of the door opening, along with soft footsteps on the carpet, woke you up on yet another winter morning. Shortly after, you could feel the new weight on the blanket covering you, preventing the cold from reaching you.

"Mummy, are you awake?" The sleepy, drowsy voice reached your ears, and small fingers gently touched your face.

Delicate fingers gently trace imaginary lines on your face, attempting to wake you up.

"Mummy, come on. Daddy will be here soon."

It’s possible to detect the faint hint of desperation beginning to emerge in the little one's voice, as he spares no tactic to wake you up.

Stretching your arms without opening your eyes, you wrap Ethan in the blanket, eliciting a loud laugh from him.

"Oh no, help!" he shouts amid his laughter.

"This is an attack from the blanket monster!" you say, deepening your voice as you join in the game Ethan invented a few years ago.

As he tries to escape from the blanket you’ve wrapped him in, you attack with tickles, making him squirm uncontrollably on the bed.

"Mummy, please!" he says, laughing.

"Mummy? There’s no Mummy here, only the blanket monster."

"But I need my mum."

"Then do you surrender?"

"Yes, yes, please!" he says, and you release him, throwing your own body onto the bed and closing your eyes. When you feel Ethan stretch out over you, you open your eyes and smile at him.

"Oh, good morning, E."

"Good morning, Mummy! I was attacked by the blanket monster."

"Really? And did you defeat him?"

"Hm, not this time."

"Ah, that's okay. I bet the blanket monster had all his meals today, that's why he was so strong this time," you say, sitting up and pulling his little body close to yours. Ethan sits on your lap, his legs wrapped around your waist and his head resting on your chest as you lean back against the headboard of the bed.

Your hand gently pats his back, soothing him even more. No matter how much he grows, his mother's lap will always be his favourite place.

You bring your face closer to the top of his head and inhale the scent of baby shampoo coming from his soft hair.

Ethan may be just a few months away from turning 6 and becoming more independent in his routine, but to you, little E will always be the baby who cried loudly the first time you held him in your arms at 21.

From the moment you discovered you were pregnant, you knew life would never be the same, but the feeling of holding a newborn in your arms just minutes after he took his first breath of air was almost like a cold shower.

Since that moment, life took a new direction. There was no longer just Y/N. Now it would be Y/N and Ethan.

And Tom.

And as always, life spins in unexpected ways, and suddenly everything changes. Some things no longer seem to be enough.

After a few minutes in the same position, Ethan starts to move, and you release him to look at him.

"Can we have hot chocolate today?" he asks.

"Wasn't that our breakfast yesterday?"

"I know, but..." He turns his face, staring at the window. "I'm going to miss it."

He doesn't specify, but you understand what he means. It's the weekend, which means Ethan will spend the next few days away from home. Your home.

"I'm sure Daddy can make hot chocolate for you if you ask him."

"He makes it, but it's not like yours," he says, pouting.

"Ah, boy, stop trying to convince me with that face, you know it just makes me want to squeeze you!" you say, excited, wrapping him in your arms and hugging him tightly, covering his cheeks with kisses. "Go put on a sweater and let's have our breakfast, okay? Daddy will be here soon."

He nods and wriggles out of your arms, jumping off the bed and running toward his room. You get up and head to the bathroom, tying your hair back and washing your face to shake off the sleepiness.

When you reach the kitchen of the small apartment, Ethan is already trying to climb onto one of the stools at the counter—a thing you've already scolded him for trying to do on his own.

"What have I told you about asking for help?" you ask, approaching him and helping him sit on the stool.

"Sorry," he mumbles, then starts watching your movements as you gather the ingredients needed.

"Are you excited?" you ask, distracted.

"I am! Daddy said we're going to see the snow and the big Christmas tree. And then we're going to see Grandpa and Grandma."

This is a tradition of Ethan's that has been kept since his first Christmas, even though he was too young to understand. The photo on the wall serves as a constant reminder. Every Christmas, you would take him to the city center, where the Christmas tree was set up and the decorations lit up everything around.

However, the tradition of strolling through the city center during the festive season began long before Ethan ever thought about being born.

At 16, Tom took you for the first time to see the Christmas lights. According to him, it was just a walk among friends, but both of you knew that day meant so much more than that. After all, it was the day of your first kiss.

"This isn't a date," he said, intertwining his fingers with yours.

"Tom, I believe what we're doing qualifies as a date," you laugh.

"No, you deserve something better and bigger. You can consider this a date, fine, but we'll do more things and I'll take you to other places. I promise. A more exclusive place, too! There are too many people here," he says, looking around, and you laugh, pulling him closer and wrapping one of your arms that wasn't holding his around his neck.

"Any place with you is exclusive."

It’s been two years since you and Tom decided to go separate ways. For some reason, the relationship began to fade. It wasn’t for lack of love or affection for each other. But the heavy workload and raising a baby while still so young interfered with the future you had envisioned at 20, before Ethan became a matter that needed to be discussed.

Ethan was never considered a burden by either of you, but everything had to be reconsidered the moment you held the positive pregnancy test in your hands. Studies had to be put on hold for a while, and Tom had to find a full-time job that paid more than the part-time one he had at the time. In addition, he still needed to make time for his college studies. You also helped as much as you could during the pregnancy, taking online design courses that provided you with some work during that time.

Your parents were shocked, as were his, but they never denied their help. They were the support both of you needed in those first years. They helped with the payment of the first rent for the small apartment you found, and Tom made sure to pay them back as soon as he was able.

But their shock was even greater when they received the news that you and Tom were separating, instead of the engagement they had hoped would happen. Your mother, who had been so in love with Tom back then, cursed him with every name possible for neglecting the family he was starting to build. She demanded that he take responsibility for the consequences of his actions.

As you cried from the pain reflected in her words, you explained that it was a mutual decision. There was nothing more to be done. Tom also made it clear that he wasn’t abandoning anyone, he was just going to move out, and you two would no longer be a couple. But Ethan would remain the main reason for your relationship after the breakup.

He kept his promise and never let anything be lacking for his son. He is present and raises Ethan as a father should. But Ethan is still a child, one who learns everything with increasing ease. This means he has already questioned why mommy and daddy don’t live together.

Despite him enjoying having two different homes.

After Ethan finishes breakfast, he asks for permission to watch a cartoon on the living room TV, and you take the opportunity to change clothes and freshen up. Then, you go to Ethan's room, select his outfit for going out, and check the bag he packed the night before. Although he has his own things at his father's house, Ethan still spends most of his time with you, so there are always more things at your place. You add a few jumpers and socks to his backpack and call him to change clothes.

"Let me smell your breath," you say after helping him put on his socks. Ethan opens his mouth, and you bring your face closer to his. "Oh my god!" you exaggerate, acting shocked. "What on earth do you have living in that mouth?" Ethan laughs. "Go brush your teeth now, young man."

He quickly gets up, runs to the bathroom, adjusts the little stool so he can reach the sink, and closes the door. Privacy. The doorbell rings, and Ethan lets out a little squeal.

"It's Daddy!" he says, opening the bathroom door, his mouth covered in toothpaste.

"Hey, finish brushing your teeth, little monster. I'll open the door." He nods and returns to the task, doing it even faster, eager to see his dad.

You take a deep breath and walk toward the door, already knowing what you'll find when you open it. Tom hasn't changed much. Despite the marks on his face being more visible, he still carries the same boyish expression. The same one you once fell hopelessly in love with.

"Hey, I know I arrived a bit too early, but everyone’s excited to see him," he says, one hand going behind his head, scratching his neck. He’s wearing a heavy coat, which shows just how cold it is outside the apartment and building.

"Hi, no problem. You know he's also dying of anticipation," you laugh awkwardly. "Come on in, he's just finishing getting ready."

Tom steps through the door, and nostalgia hits him hard. When he moved out, he thought you’d probably look for another place too—maybe somewhere a little bigger, with three bedrooms and an office so you could work from home. At least, that’s what you both had planned while you were still together. He knows he wouldn’t have been able to stay in a place filled with so many memories if it had been you moving out instead of him.

He notices some changes in the place—the photos that used to feature three people have been taken down from the walls and shelves. Most of them now only show Ethan, with just a few including you. He spots one photo, though, showing your family and his, probably from Ethan's birthday.

This isn’t the first time he’s been inside your home since the breakup. He’s picked up and dropped off Ethan numerous times, including a few occasions when Ethan had a stomach ache and wanted to sleep in your bed. But he had never taken the time to look around. The strange, awkward air between you both always prevented him from examining how you chose to change things after he left.

But he seized the opportunity when you turned your back after saying you’d quickly check something in the laundry area. Unsure of what to do, Tom sat down on the sofa, while you hid near the washing machine, taking deep breaths to prevent the tears from escaping without permission.

No matter how much time passes, Tom holds a piece of your heart that you still haven’t been able to fill. Not with anyone else, nor with yourself. When everything ended, you truly believed that having Ethan would be enough. And he is more than enough. But Tom is unforgettable. Having him so close and still sharing something so precious with him sends shivers down your spine.

Because he’s right there. Just a few steps away. And he’s no longer yours.

The sharp sound of Ethan’s excited voice pulls you back, and you take a deep breath about three times, trying to slow your heart. You swipe your thumb under your eyes, drying any trace of tears.

"E, did you change your shirt?” you ask as you return to the living room, seeing Ethan sitting on the floor, showing Tom a new puzzle he got.

“Yes, I accidentally spilled water while brushing my teeth, Mom,” he says. “Sorry.”

“Oh, no problem, my love.” You move closer, crouch down, and kiss the top of his head. “Well done for changing it all by yourself.” He smiles and shifts his attention back to his dad, who keeps his eyes fixed on him.

You let Ethan and Tom talk on their own for a while and take the opportunity to wash the breakfast dishes.

It’s clear that Ethan prefers having this moment at home, without the rush and hurry of needing to leave right away. That’s why Tom always tries to arrive a little earlier than planned, as if to ease the transition between locations for the coming days.

A few minutes later, Tom's voice catches your attention.

"Y/N, can you come here?" You dry your hands and walk into the living room.

Ethan is sitting with his back to Tom, leaning on the coffee table, playing with a plastic robot.

"What's wrong?" you ask. Tom stands up from the sofa and takes your hand, pulling you a little away from the scene.

"He doesn’t want to go."

"What do you mean, he doesn’t want to go? A few hours ago, he was all excited."

"I noticed, but it’s been almost an hour since I arrived, and when I mentioned that we needed to go, he just turned his back and said he didn’t want to go." Tom’s unfocused, disoriented look tightens your chest.

The duration of Ethan's stays with each of you was never decided. One of the things you both agreed on was that the courts wouldn’t be involved at this stage—you both believed you could communicate and decide how Ethan’s custody would work. Tom spends a lot of time at his father’s beverage company, which makes it harder for him to connect with Ethan during the week. Your job is more flexible, allowing you to work from home and have more free time. However, Tom still asks to spend time with Ethan during the week on occasion and also picks him up from school when needed.

This is a new moment, one that neither of you may know how to handle. It’s never happened before. You gently touch Tom’s arm and walk around him to approach Ethan, sitting down beside him on the floor. The moment you do, he turns his head, resting it on the table.

"Bubba?" You use his favourite nickname. "Can you look at mommy?" Your hand strokes his back, but he stays in the same position, unresponsive. "Can we talk? Daddy said you were upset." With that, Tom moves closer and sits on the sofa behind you.

"Come on, bean. We’re here with you."

Ethan’s accumulated a series of nicknames throughout his life, even during pregnancy. Bean being one of them. And the fact that Tom used it now feels like a low blow, especially to you. After all, it was the way you both referred to him throughout the entire pregnancy.

"What’s bothering you?" No response. "Do you remember what you told me earlier? Daddy’s going to take you to see the snow and the Christmas tree. Grandma and Grandpa will be there too."

"Uncle Harry, Sam, and Paddy too. They’re all waiting for you," Tom adds.

Ethan's small shoulders begin to tremble, causing even more panic in both of you, who exchange a glance before turning your attention back to the little one. Slowly, Ethan starts to sob quietly, and your instinct is to pick him up and comfort him right away. But Tom places his hand on your arm, stopping you, and you look at him in disbelief.

"E, you need to tell us what’s going on."

"I don't want to go," he finally replies.

"Ethan, I need you to tell me why," Tom says.

"I don't want to go," he repeats.

"Right, we get it. But this was our agreement, remember? We have a lot to do at home."

"Mummy," Ethan says, sitting up and turning towards you.

"Bubba, why don’t you want to go with Daddy?" you ask gently. He moves closer to you and throws himself into your lap, wrapping his legs around your body and his arms around your neck, burying his face against you. Tom runs a hand over his face, unsure of what to do as the sound of Ethan’s crying grows louder, filling the room.

You look at Tom without knowing what to say, and he seems just as uneasy about the situation. Ethan has never refused to go out with him before. Could it be that the time he spends with Ethan isn’t enough? Tom looks like he’s ready to start an argument that won’t end anytime soon, judging by the expression on his face. You stand up, holding Ethan even closer to your body.

"I need to calm him down. Can you wait or come back later?" you ask.

"What? Y/N, no. You know I always come early just to avoid situations like this. Everyone is waiting for us at home. I need to go, and I need to take him with me." With that, Ethan clings even tighter to you. Tom notices, and rejection washes over his face.

"I'm sure everyone will understand. Do as you wish, but right now, my priority is him," you say, looking at him before turning away and walking to Ethan's little room. The bed, which he had tried to make himself, is cozy enough for you to lie down with him.

Ethan has always shown preferences and behaviours different from other children his age. This concerned you and led you to seek professional help. The paediatrician conducted some tests and recommended starting psychological treatment. A few sessions have already taken place, and Mia, the child psychologist, has had several conversations with you.

Throughout the entire separation period, what concerned you the most was Ethan's reaction and how all these changes would affect him.

Even though he was only three years old when it all happened, he witnessed small arguments between you and Tom, which, despite your best efforts to avoid, could not be entirely prevented. After that, the constant moving from one place to another undoubtedly made it difficult for him to identify with a single place.

Mum’s house, Dad’s house.

Where is Ethan’s home?

This was a question raised by the psychologist, and it has never left your mind since.

Ethan’s tiny fingers wrapped around your neck found the chain you rarely take off. He traced its path to the front, touching the small letter 'E' pendant. A gift from Tom when you both decided on the baby’s name. Some things are hard to leave behind.

You waited until his breathing steadied, making sure he had fallen asleep, before getting up.

The plan was to head to the living room and call Tom to let him know that Ethan had fallen asleep and it would probably be better to come back later. But as you stepped into the hallway, you found Tom sitting on the sofa, his head resting against the back, legs spread, shoulders slumped. Tired. That’s the word that best describes Tom Holland’s body language at that moment.

He slowly lifted his head as he heard you approach. You sat down next to him, your legs touching.

"He’s asleep."

"I figured that would happen."

"The psychologist said he might have issues related to this change in routine." Tom sighed.

Of course, he knows about the psychotherapy sessions Ethan has been attending. His consent is required, after all. But he has never attended a single parental guidance session, something that fills you with frustration.

"Do you think we’re doing something wrong?" you ask.

"I don’t know. Maybe?"

"He wasn’t supposed to be caught in the middle of all this mess."

"What do you want to do now, Y/N? We can’t change the past," he replies sharply.

"Hey, what’s going on with you? Where’s all this harshness coming from?" Tom takes a deep breath and leans his head back on the sofa again, staring at the ceiling.

"My son doesn’t want to go home with me. That’s all. He was fine, and then, out of nowhere, he turned his back on me. When I ask him something, he doesn’t respond." He looks at you now. "I didn’t tell you before because it was resolved, but two weeks ago, that Wednesday when you were stuck at work and asked me to pick him up from school… When he saw me—when he realised it wasn’t you—he didn’t want to leave. It was horrible for me because people were watching, and I’ve never seen Ethan cry as much as he did that day." He lets out a bitter laugh.

"Tom…"

"The teachers tried to talk to him, but it was like I was a stranger taking him away. In the end, he agreed to come with me when I said we were going home, but he misunderstood. When he realised we were going to my house, he started crying again." He looks down at the floor. "It took ages for him to stop. That’s why, when you came to pick him up, he was asleep—because he was exhausted from crying so much." Finally, he looks at you, tears in his eyes.

"Tommy."

"I did everything wrong. I tried to give my best, always, but it’s never enough. I wasn’t the best for you, and look what happened." He looks away. "And now my son doesn’t even want to stay with me."

"Hey, hey. Look at me." You gently place a hand on his arm. "Tom, this isn’t your fault. This is all new for both of us, just as it is for him."

"I should have fought harder for us," he murmured.

Gently, you place a hand on his face, pulling him closer. The two of you adjust on the sofa, settling into a position that feels both comfortable and familiar. Tom nestled in your arms, his head resting against your chest, just the way Ethan often does. One of his arms wraps tightly around your waist, holding you close, while your hand soothingly traces along his back.

As the two of you remain wrapped up in each other for an indeterminate amount of time, you try not to dwell on Tom’s words.

How different would things be if he hadn’t given up on trying? It’s not fair to place all the blame on him, but reflecting on past events, he was the first to show that he no longer had an interest in keeping the relationship alive.

During your time apart, you heard about Tom being involved with other women. But none of them were serious enough to be introduced to Ethan—or to you.

The sound of Tom’s phone ringing on the coffee table pulls you back to reality. When Tom doesn’t move to answer it, you lean forward, trying to see who’s calling. But as you do, Tom tightens his arms around you.

"It’s your mum."

"Let it ring."

"Aren’t they expecting you?" you ask, settling back into the sofa.

"I don’t think I have good news," he mutters.

Your hands find their way to his hair, gently massaging, offering comfort in the only way you know how at that moment.

The phone rings a few more times before the call drops, only to start again 20 seconds later.

"I think you should answer," you say, and he mutters something unintelligible. "I can talk to her if you want." Tom simply lets go of you, slumping back onto the sofa. You get up, pick up his phone, and walk into the kitchen before answering.

"Hi, Nikki."

"What? Who is this? Y/N?" she says, startled.

"Yes, it’s me."

"Did something happen, dear? Where’s Tom?"

"Um, we had a situation here, but don’t worry—it’s all fine now."

"Are you sure? How’s Ethan?" she asks nervously.

"He… well, he didn’t want to leave. We tried talking to him, but it didn’t help much. He eventually fell asleep."

"Oh, poor little thing," she says, sighing. "And you, my dear? How are you?"

"I…" Hearing the concern in her voice, your eyes well up with tears. "I don’t know what to do. Tom is heartbroken. Seeing them both like this hurts me so much, Nikki."

"Oh, sweetheart, I know it does. But you need to take care of yourself too, Y/N. Stop thinking you have to handle all of this on your own. I know what it’s like to raise a child, and I know Tom tries so hard to be part of it all, but after everything that happened… he’s distant."

"It’s been two years, Nikki. Why can’t we move past this?"

"Because there’s still love," she responds quickly. "I’ll never fully understand what happened between you two. Maybe the responsibility became too much, maybe you lost yourselves along the way. Focusing solely on the child became your priority, and you forgot to nurture that love. I don’t know."

"I don’t know either." "And you were so young when Ethan came along, Y/N. You both had to rewrite an entire life you had planned together, remember?" You sigh deeply at her words. "You wanted to graduate college together, start working, save enough to take a trip, just the two of you… there were so many plans, I can’t even list them all. If it wasn’t you telling me about them, it was Tom."

More tears streamed uncontrollably down your face, and you covered your mouth to stifle any sound, not wanting to alarm Tom in the living room. "I heard so much about you two…" She sighed as well. "And the truth is, you’re still young, learning something new every day. And now, you’re also teaching someone else—someone loving, intelligent, and full of so much heart. Ethan is made of both of you, my dear."

"I’m so afraid something will happen to him, Nikki. He’s so little, and I just… I can’t hurt him like this." "Y/N, you’re doing your best. Every time I see that boy, he shows me something new about his personality that surprises me so much. You’ve done an amazing job. But you also need to take care of yourself. And I’d be so happy if you allowed my son to help you in that process."

"Thank you, Nikki. That means a lot." "I’ll always be here for you. I’ll talk to everyone here about it and wait for Tom to let me know what we’re doing today, alright?"

"Alright. Thank you again."

"You’re welcome, dear." And with that, she hung up.

Without a second thought, you walk back into the living room. Tom is still in the same position, only lifting his head when he notices you standing in front of him. His gaze lands on your tear-streaked face and red eyes.

"What happened?" he asks, standing up and gently holding your face in his hands.

"Can you carry Ethan without waking him and take him to my room?" you ask, holding his wrists. He nods and lets his hands drop from your face before moving towards Ethan.

You make your way to your bedroom while Tom goes to fetch Ethan from his room. You pull down the blinds, dimming the light filtering into the space. Tom enters, carefully carrying Ethan, and places him in the centre of the bed.

Gently, you settle on the right side, straightening up before resting your head on the pillow. Tom stands there, unsure of what to do, watching you without reaction. Finally, you extend a hand toward him. He gets the message, takes off his shoes, and lies down on the side that used to be his when you shared this bed. You don’t let go of his hand for a second. Instead, you pull it closer, guiding it to wrap around Ethan’s small body nestled between you.

"I miss you so much," Tom whispered. A small smile appeared on your face.

"We’ll talk later, okay? For now, let’s just enjoy our little Bean."

#tom holland angst #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland #tom holland au #tom holland imagines #tom holland smut #dad!tom holland

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anki-of-beleriand · 9 months ago

Text

A heart Made of Glass ch. 13

Summary: Ten years ago you left Wanda and the Avengers to heal your broken heart. You never stopped being a hero, just as you never stopped being in love with her. But life had to go on.

Now, after all that time, she is back and with her is a young woman needing help and an enemy that may not be as afraid as Wanda to lay a claim on you.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Powered!F!Reader - Scarlet Witch x PoweredF!Reader - Past Wanda Maximoff x Vision

Warnings: Angst, drama, mentions of cheating, fluff, violence, smut, Switch!Reader, internalize homophobia, hurt, comfort, Wanda being a complete mess, anger management issues, jealousy, Requited/Unrequited love, idiots in love, swearing, mentions of alcohol. More tags as the story progess.

Author's Note: This story is a continuation of Dirty Little Secret I was really surprised at the response I got for the story, I did all the tags you guys ask for but if I forgot someone please do not hesitate to tell me. Thank you for the support.

Oh, I am back and this chapter is a wrap-up for the confrontation between Reader and Wanda. They had been given a moment of solitude before going back to their own reality, can they really get past through everyting that happened to them in the past?

Please, do remember English is no 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 - Epilogue

Chapter 13

Can we change the past?

You never imagined this ordeal would end in the way it did.

The universe you left behind came crumbling down under the weight of its own shaky foundations, it became a cold unfitting world that disappear the moment you and the others touched the land of another Universe.

Everything was kind of blurry from the on.

You knew Wanda was taken away, and soon after you were also being carried to a room in which you lost consciousness after your body finally gave up. Your mind didn’t have the time to think about what had happened or what would happen after you were completely recover. You let things happened, and in that time you gave yourself to a blissful mindfulness in which you knew, sooner or later, you would need to face everything you had been running from.

It soon became evident that time was running out, with people coming in and out of your room checking over your physical and mental well-being before asking uneasy questions. Sometimes you would evade those questions, and some others you would give vague answers that would tell the others you were no fool.

You stretched out grasping thin air in your fist, tilting your head you started making a small sequence of Tai Chi you had learnt from Yelena. After more than a week of being in the hospital, you were finally able to feel your body as yours again. Your muscles flexed, and the shadows under your feet stirred with the silent command of your thoughts. You smiled glancing at your reflection through the window, everything was working just fine and you knew you were ready to go back home.

The door behind you cracked, and the knob turned to the left revealing the single figure of Doctor Jean Grey. The woman was beautiful, and her smile was infectious always putting your mind at ease.

“Hello, Y/N, how are you this morning?”

“Doc, I’m doing better now, thank you.” You spined around slowly, the shadows wavering around until they covered your feet, your smile grew cocking your head to follow the lead of your left arm then your right one.

“I certainly felt much better now.”

“I can see that.” The woman smile stepping closer to your bed while placing a single file on the breakfast table.

“Tell me you cam here with good news.”

Jean offered a single smile while taking a seat, she sat waiting for you to settle down on the bed. The room soon filled with silence that was only broken by the busy morning routine right outside your room. You had learnt your room was in one of the busiest wings in the hospital back in the Tower. Wanda had not been that lucky, though.

“Well, I do come with news, if they are good or not depend entirely on you.” Jean could see the change in you, even through the easy smile you wore the young doctor could see you were being overly cautious.

“Okay, I’m listening.”

Doctor Jean Gray sauntered inside the room with a light blush on her cheeks. Her eyes twinkling merrily glancing at the chart in her hands before settling then on you.

For some reason, the reaction of the woman made you squirm uncomfortably. You had been in this universe for two days now, but it wasn't until now that you were forced to go inside the examination room and get yourself a quick check-up. It was quite evident that in this world mutants and superpowered individuals were treated differently, and the rules governing each one of them were set to get control on the population.

“You seemed rather chirp today, Doc, good news for you or me?”

Jean chuckled, placing the chart on the bed before putting a chair close to the bed.

“It's my anniversary, and I received quite the news today.” She stated tilting her head, you smiled back at her.

“Congratulations, then.”

Jean nodded, putting a strand of hair out of her face, “thank you.”

“So that would be for you, what about me?” You finally asked leaning forward, your eyes drifting to the chart in your bed.

“Everything seems to be okay.”

“But…?” You arched a brow when Jean leaned back on the chair offering a serious facade.

“You had been quite silent in the last couple of days, keeping yourself out of everyone's way and most importantly,” here Jean stopped as if measuring her words, “your avoidance of your particular predicament has raised some concerns on our end.”

Silence followed such a declaration, you dared to lock eyes with the woman sitting in front of you well-aware of her ability to read beyond your initial thoughts. Jean didn't move nor did she give any indication of breaking into small talk, I stead she seemed to sit there and wait patiently for you to speak.

“I’m not sure I want to have this conversation.” You sighed, lifting a hand to the back of your head, scratching the nape of your neck. “But I guess it is inevitable.”

“It is.” Jean softened her features, grabbing the file she left on your bed, she opened it in a single page while presenting the form to you.

“How…how is she?” Your voice was above a whisper, but it was loud enough for Jean to hear it.

The woman leaned back letting you read the file while she started talking.

“She is doing better now, trying to recover her magical core had been quite the challenge but our own team of witches and healers had come together to help around.”

There was nothing much you could do but nod, your eyes drifted to the file with your thoughts trying to focus on a single issue at a time. Ever since the five of you got to that universe everything had been but a blur; your Wanda was taken straight to the hospital and she had been looked after Tony's team back in the Avengers Tower.

“That's good.”

“I just want to do one last check-up before clearing you up, America has been waiting for you and the twins are very excited as well.” Jean chuckled, standing up making her way to the closest drawer and putting some surgical gloves out. “They seemed to think that having a pair of moms at their disposal would give them some kind of advantage in their mischief.”

You tried to hide your expression from the other woman, but it was inevitable. Jean offered a sympathetic smile while getting to work.

“They are just children…” you mumbled feeling your body warm up, your muscles twitching just as Jean started testing your reflex. “I don't think they understand that much.”

“Mm, you would be surprised how much Billy and Tommy understand about the situation.” Jean leaned back, lifting her left hand and letting it hover right on top of your forehead. “They are pretty smart, and sensitive.”

You pressed your lips together not wanting to go into a discussion. Not that you could raise any arguments against that statement, you had noticed just how sensitive they were and how smart they were. They had come that first time into your room calling you mom without a care in the world, telling you about their day while also making you aware of how they had sneaked in to see you and Wanda.

Your counterpart had been amused by your reaction, while her Wanda had been just a tad bit concerned about the confusion the whole situation could create in the children.

“If I were to be honest, you look more confused than them.”

“You told me you don't read minds unless you have permission.” You replied furrowing your brows, Jean had the sense of looking embarrassed but never lost her smile when looking back at you.

“You kind of scream that thought at me, sometimes it is inevitable.”

Jean then leaned back, grabbing your file and writing some notes down.

“I think you're ready to go.” Jean cocked her head when the first thing you did was jump down the bed and go to the closest chair holding your clothes. “But Wanda…”

You winced, grabbing your clothes tightly before turning around, this time around Jean was looking serious, her eyes gleaming lightly.

“What about Wanda?”

The silence grew around the both of you, your body was already tensing the muscles you would need to run. Jean opened her mouth only to close it again as if she didn't know what to say or how to say it.

“I think you should visit her, it can make a difference in her recovery.”

At the end of the day, this last visit from Jean Grey was just that, another attempt from these people to go to Wanda and make sure she was okay. For you to stop running and face her taking ownership of what would happen next.

It was complicated.

And you were unsure as to how to proceed or what was expected of you.

“Look, I just…”

“MOM!!!!”

Not sooner had you heard such a scream, you found yourself being tackled by a pair of bouncing kids. Your heart skipped a beat with your arms lifted at your shoulders height while the kids had their faces up to look at you with toothy grins. They were quite adorable, and in reality a part of you seemed to just instantly loved them, noticing the likeness they had to Wanda and yourself.

“Okay, guys let’s back up a little, remember what we talked to you about?”

The room was suddenly very crowded, your counterpart came right in followed by America and Pietro. It became quite apparent that everyone was waiting for Jean to finish her last check-up on you before getting into the room and see how you were doing. You placed your hands on the twin’s heads ruffling their hair playfully while offering a tentative smile.

“That’s okay, I’m getting used to the enthusiastic greeting.”

“And them calling you mom?” Pietro inquired, quaking his brow while placing his hands in his pockets.

You couldn’t help the little wince, recoiling from the comment with your body turning to the chair and grabbing your clothes once more. Billy and Tommy glanced at one another, with Billy opening his eyes really big while making a gesture with his head.

“Anyway, I’m just glad to know your good to go, because I was thinking we can go right ahead and get a look around and perhaps…” America started babbling making her way to your bed.

You nodded absentmindedly, your attention drifting for a moment to your counterpart and Jean that had decided to step out of the room to have a small conversation. You couldn’t help but wonder what exactly was going on, and what they were discussing with your thoughts going over and over to the woman that was still unconscious somewhere inside the building.

Everything was strange in this universe.

A part of you knew that sooner or later the conversation of Wanda and you going back to your respective reality would come; but it was quite evident everyone was waiting for the right moment to intervene and perhaps get something done.

“Well, I think you better change so we can get out of here,” Pietro broke your line of thoughts, his eyes gleaming mischievously with his lips curling into a familiar expression. “Billy and Tommy prepare something for you, and I bet you are dying to eat something that isn’t hospital food.”

“You are completely right on that one, I’m going to change and then…you guys can show me a good time.”

You offered a tentative smile, your heart dropping for a moment when the twins cheered babbling non-stop to America and Pietro. For a brief moment you wondered…

…was this what you were missing back home?

_______________

You had been welcomed inside the household of your counterpart.

This time around, the guest room had been prepared and you could enjoy the joys of a soft bed and a nice view of the backyard while trying to get some sleep. The day had been quite unexpected, with the twins and America being active participants in different forms of conversations and different sets of games and rambles that you were not prepared to share with these people.

You had tried to get away from it, but Billy and Tommy were very adamant on having you close and including you in every single moment of their afternoon. You didn’t fight too hard to not be there, though. After a while you realised Wanda would not be joining the family outing and actually your counterpart ended up being just a good source of geek material that differed from the one you had in your own world.

Not for a single moment did anyone mention the white elephant in the room.

And for that you were quite grateful.

But now, in the middle of the night with the stars twinkling above your head and everyone sleeping in the house you couldn't help but think about it. Time was running out, sooner or later you would need to go back and face the consequences of what happened back in Norway and in that other universe.

Sooner or later you would need to face Wanda once more.

“It is pretty late for you to be thinking so loud.”

You kept your attention on the stars, the room was completely dark which was one of the reasons as to why you knew she had come home already. The young woman took a few steps forward until she was standing beside you, her face turned to the sky with her arms hugging her tightly.

“I just couldn’t go back to sleep.” You shrugged leaning against the wall, your head tilted to the side. “It was quite an exciting day, I think I’m still in a sugar rush.”

Wanda chuckled, lowering her head, her eyes gleaming lightly, turning her attention to you.

“So I heard. The twins really took you everywhere and made sure you taste everything back in the restaurant, didn’t they?”

Your face fell when the memories of that day came back, the twins had never left your side while telling you stories about their adventures. Not for a single moment did they think or even entertained the idea of them not being part of your life in your other world. For them it had been natural to make sure that you and Wanda did not forget about them. That was one of the reasons why it had been a shock for them to find out you and they didn’t know about that restaurant.

“You should tell our other selves about this place, mom! I know they will love it!”

“Yeah, we love it, and you love bringing us here!”

It still burnt that this life was not yours, but there was nothing you could do.

Wanda could read your thoughts; she could sense your pain and it was something she couldn’t take. Not with you. Wanda dropped her arms, stepping closer to you. Her hand felt warm on your face, brushing away your hair and mapping out the form of your jaw. It was so unexpected you couldn’t help but freeze in place the tension evident in the contraction of your muscles, your left foot stepping back and stopping waiting for the other foot to join. It didn’t happen, though, you stood there waiting for something else to happen.

“They are good kids.” Your voice trembled at the very end of that sentence, but your eyes never waver in their hold of those green irises.

“They are. They are very much your children as much as they are mine.” Wanda offered a timid smile that soon vanished, whatever hold she had on you broke and the young woman turned around as if ready to leave.

The tension in your body didn’t leave, and your mind was poking at you uncomfortably pressing over for you to speak. To say something, to ask the question you were dying to ask but didn’t dare to do so. It looked as if nothing else was going to be said that day, as if nothing else was going to happen and you were trying to get a hold of your beating heart when Wanda stopped by the door turning to the side and locking her eyes with yours.

“You will need to face her sooner or later, Y/N.” Wanda let her words sink in, her eyes softening lightly when she could sense the conflict inside of you.

“Do I have to?” The question left your lips before you could stop it, Wanda lifted her shoulder stepping back.

“I think you know the answer to that question,” she stated letting out a tired yawn, “what you really need to ask yourself, though is what would happen if that confrontation doesn’t come the way you expect it to be? What if it becomes everything you thought impossible with her? Are you ready to face that conversation? Are you ready to make a decision for you and her?”

You hated the fact this Wanda was so insightful and you hated even more that she was right. That was the real reason as to why you couldn’t sleep, as to why you were trying to bury your emotions and your memories, while also running away from what you were experimenting with. Of the changes that had come knocking on your door all those months ago.

“Have a good night, Y/N, rest and follow your instincts on this one because they…” Wanda left the sentence in the air, and it was you the one to finish it.

“They had never failed me.”

There was a flash of a smile and then Wanda left, closing the door behind her.

___________________

But trying to follow your instincts was easier said than done.

A part of you knew the meeting was inevitable, after all, the both of you needed to go back to your respective Universe and this would never happen if you two kept on avoiding one another. But then, there was another part, the one you had been carrying with you for far too long, that was afraid of a confrontation that might broke your heart all over again.

You played with time for as long as you could, taking advantage of Tony’s curiosity and Loki’s infinite questions. You became very helpful of Wong and Hank’s questions, and you couldn’t help but give in the twin’s whims every night before going to bed. Nevertheless, you had the days count on that universe, and it wasn’t as if you really wished to stay. You missed home, and you missed your friends and family; but the final step to get everything ready to go back was something you had never felt ready to do.

On the fifth morning you woke up on a guest room, you knew you couldn't run anymore. America had finished her breakfast and Y/N was reading the paper, no one did or said anything for a moment until you sat at the table with the coffee warming up the mug in your hands.

“Wanda is fully recovered.” Your counterpart stated, never leaving her eyes from the page she was reading, “she is confused, a little weak but ready to talk and go back home.”

“Talk?” You asked a little harsher than you were meant to.

Y/N lifted a single brow, her lips pursing tightly.

“With you.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but a kick on your leg made you stop. America was glaring at you, her head shaking slightly opening her eyes and glancing meaningfully at your counterpart.

“I know, I just…”

Y/N sighed, closing the paper and placing it slowly on the counter. Her eyes pierced you with a gaze filled with emotion, you shifted on the chair trying to look away but unable to do so.

“Whether you want it or not, you will need to have this confrontation. Whatever you are afraid of facing…I think you should get your shit together and face it right away. You are running out of time, and excuses.”

Your counterpart finished her tirade with a slap to the table, shaking her head as she stood up and left the kitchen. You cocked your head until you found America glancing at you.

“I guess there is no running from this, is it?”

America shrugged, biting her lower lip, “I guess not.”

You lowered your eyes to the counter before lifting them to ensure America was paying attention to you.

“Once this is over, are you staying or are you coming back with us?” The question caught her off of guard, America was looking shocked and her mouth tried to form a specific thought but was unable to respond right away.

You chuckled standing up, your hand on her shoulder.

“You would be more than welcome back home, but I know you missed this place greatly.” You squeezed her shoulder before walking away, a single wall of dark shadows spreading before you. “Think about it, America, I'll be back in a few hours and we will talk about me and Wanda going back home.”

“I will think about it.” America mumbled offering a half smile. “Good luck.”

You winked at her trying to show more confidence than you actually felt before crossing over the shadows and disappearing into them. The trip was short, with the shadows embracing you with a cold hold leading through the space until you stepped inside a dimly lit hall.

The place was completely silent, though you could make out the sound of chatter in the distance. You lowered your gaze to the floor, our ears twitching lightly ignoring the rest of the sounds and focusing on your heartbeat.

The last couple of months have been a complete rollercoaster for you. You never imagined, even in your wildest dreams, that Wanda would show at your doorstep with a young woman asking for help. For a very long time, you had put in the back of your mind the confrontation with Wanda. A part of you knew it would come, eventually. But you never intended to be the one to take the first step for the meeting to happen.

When you got to see Wanda face to face, and actually talk to her, your world came crumbling down around you. The barriers you had built around your heart and mind ended up not being as strong and resilient as thought them to be. Your heart still missed a beat at the sound of her laughter, and your hardened façade went away as soon as you saw the suffering and the heartbreak in those green eyes.

Wanda would always be one of your greatest weaknesses.

And you hated yourself for that.

It was as if your own suffering didn't matter, as long as Wanda was fine and didn't have to feel what you felt. Yet you refused to believe her words or even offer forgiveness for the wrong doings in the past. All of this came crashing down in a single meeting, all the doubts and pain came back, but also the yearning and the confusion you were threatening to overwhelm you and leave you without a way out.

You took a deep breath, your hand running through your hair helping your uneasiness. You closed for a brief moment, and your mind went blank emptying any thoughts that might come in and make you falter in your actions. The last couple of days, and actually the last couple of months, you had thought about this moment; you had given yourself and her a chance to step aside and let the past in the past and for the both of you ready to face the present without thinking too much about the future.

The room was in complete darkness, the lights were out and the curtains were still closed. You could hear the monitor in the corner, the bed occupied the left side of the room leaving a big sofa and a couple of chairs on the right. Hanging from the wall you could see the TV that was huge enough to almost cover the wall, the only thing that prevented this from happening was the side door leading to the bathroom. Tony was really into luxury, you closed the door behind you a little unsure on how to proceed.

The tension around the room only increased when you felt a pair of eyes on you. It didn't take too long for you to know who it was, you stepped forward making your way to the curtains.

“Would you mind if I open them up? I prefer the natural light of the day instead of the artificial ones.” You turned lightly, finally locking your eyes with those of Wanda.

Your Wanda.

“That's fine.” She replied, her voice was but a whisper but you could get the strong laced tone that Scarlet used whenever she talked to you.

The room changed under the light of the day, while there was not much sun the sky was cloudless and the position of the tower as well as the floor you two were currently in allowed for the perfect setting for natural light. You glanced around a city that was familiar yet strange, the weight of that stare didn't leave you, not even when you finally turned around to lock eyes with her.

“You look fine.” Wanda lowered her chin, her fingers twitching on top of the bed wanting to do or say something else but unsure where her relationship with you stood at the moment.

“I wasn't that badly injured, but I think I did need the rest.” You took a step forward, then another until you were actually standing beside Wanda.

Wanda hesitated for a moment before moving to the left, she chewed on her lower lip before patting the spot on the bed.

“You can sit here, if … if you want, there is also a chair and…” whatever else Wanda was going to say was cut off by you taking her initial offer of sitting on the bed.

Wanda felt her heart do somersaults, her body tingling at your closeness and the little voice she had come to recognize as Scarlet’s whispering to her telling her to close the distance, to grab your hand, to not let you go. But she held back knowing that her position was precarious at best and whatever you had come to discuss with her needed to be addressed first.

“How are you?” You fixed your position on the bed, well aware that the only thing you needed was to lower your arm and your hand would be touching Wanda's one.

“I'm better now, a little sore and getting use to…” here Wanda trailed off with her brows creasing a little, “to be complete, I guess. It's difficult, but I think I am ready.”

Her words held a decisive tone, but her eyes were flashing the doubts running inside her mind. You realised right there and then that nothing much had changed in the last couple of years, there were things you could still read about her.

“Ready for what?” You asked quietly, Wanda sighed shrugging.

“Going back.” She replied simply. “Getting out of your way, out of your life…I did promise you after all of this was over I wouldn't bother you any more…”

Her words stung your heart, spreading an electrifying pain all through your body until it hit your brain. You didn't understand why, exactly. That had been the deal, to help her out and then get her out of your life. Then, if you knew what was going to happen, how it would end, why were you having these doubts? Why did it hurt?

Wanda was in her own thoughts, a part of her she had tried to suppress, the one she tried to deny stirred in anger. Wanda wanted to speak out, to tell you she didn't want to go and that she certainly didn't want to pretend nothing had happened in the last couple of months. That seeing you had been one of her greatest joys in life, but it had also brought pain and sadness, that being in this universe seeing the twins and facing what could have been…

Without really noticing, tears started falling rolling down her cheeks while her heart shrank with the weight of her emotions. Wanda refused to give in, her fists closing tightly and her tears breaking her composure and without really wanting to she finally broke in front of you.

You observed the full process, the way her face changed and the tears pilling up her eyes. Wanda was trying to bottle up whatever she was feeling, whatever she was thinking. It was so easy to ignore everything the other woman was experiencing; it was easy to hold onto your shared past.

But this was Wanda.

And you couldn't ignore her. That was the reason why you had to disappear after the breakup.

With a tentative touch, you let your hand fall on top of hers. Your thumb drew circles before leaning in and wrapping her in a hug. Wanda held onto you, her sobs filling the room while her hands tried to grasp your clothes. You didn't say anything, but for some reason you could feel it.

The apology you never allowed her to share with you. The broken heart she had been wearing ever since that day.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry…”

Wanda cried and once she started she couldn't stop. Fixing your position on the bed you made sure she was comfortably resting her weight on your left side, putting comforting arms around her while soothing her body with sweet caresses you had dared to make in anyone but her.

Whatever conversation you were meant to have with her, whatever it was you had come to talk to her about soon crumbled under the pressure of her tears and your own feelings for her.

And just like that, you knew you couldn't let her go.

Not without a real conversation.

And not without a fight.

______________________

Wanda was not completely sure when she fell asleep, but right now she was completely aware of being awake resting on top of you with the warmth and comfort of your presence soothing her soul.

Her body tensed right away, though soon she relaxed into the embrace having noticed your even breathing and the relaxed posture of your body. You had fallen asleep as well and, at some point the both of you had ended up sharing the small hospital bed without anyone coming over to interrupt that moment.

Wanda nuzzled her face against your neck, she wished this was something she would share with you every day. How she had missed waking up in your arms, to see your smile in the mornings and your hyperactive body demand for the morning routine. Everything was so messed up, and she didn't know when she allowed her world to crumble into nothingness.

Her heart trembled with emotion, and her thoughts formed an idea Wanda knew was not completely hers but a figment of Scarlet.

You have to fight back! You need to get her back! You need to tell her everything we discovered! Everything we know!

Her voice was demanding, yet it held a hint of desperation that Wanda was familiar with. It was the same voice she had woken up to back in the battlefield after the snap, the same one she had heard countless of times whenever she thought about you or a way to recover her life. Everything had been so complicated, yet it could had been so easy to recover her life to actually try to make a change and reconcile with everyone.

There were no more tears in her eyes, and the sadness and sorrow she had lived with all her life was a burden she was tired to carry with her. With some reluctance, Wanda let go of you stirring in the bed while trying to be careful in her movements, she missed your closeness and the warm that your body had provided but it was time for her to stand up.

You need to fight for her, you cannot lose her. Not again.

The voice echoed inside her head, and Wanda knew this time around she couldn’t allow her fears to stop her from at least getting a chance to be your friend. With that thought in mind, Wanda stood on weakened feet gathering her strength before walking towards the closes wardrobe and grabbing some clothes. She gave you one last glance before making her way to the bathroom, she would need to get ready for what would come next.

It was the cold what wake you up.

The cold and the fact you missed the weight of someone resting on your left side, you sighed blinking owlishly while patting the side of the bed where you were pretty sure your companion had been resting. In those glorious moments between being awake and asleep, you were trying to grasp the reality of the woman you had been holding. Your memory groggily moving through the smell of her shampoo, and the softness of her skin and then…

You remembered.

Wanda had been crying, you had held her, you had fallen asleep…

You stood up so fast that you fell of the bed hitting your head against the night table, while hitting your ass on the ground.

“Ugh, fuck…”

“Are you…are you alright? What…did you fall off the bed?”

You wished you could hide, but instead of that you lifted your face to see Wanda standing by the bed trying to hold back her laughter just as her eyes gleamed with worry. You could sense the blush forming on your cheeks, while your whole body seemed to protest under the pain of the hits you got when falling.

“I…yes, I just…woke up too fast and…I fell off the bed.”

That was all that Wanda needed to start laughing, she couldn’t help herself. She had seen you woke up and then lose all control while getting your feet entangled on the sheets and falling on your ass. It had been funny, and the fact that you now looked all embarrassed and were pouting made for the scene not only something funny but quite adorable.

You huffed trying to stand up, rolling your eyes while the other woman held against the bed trying to control her laughter.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want, little witch…” the nickname slipped your lips without giving it a second thought. That made the laughter died and once more the room was filled with a tension neither one of you were ready to maintain.

“I’m sorry it’s just…your face, and the way you fell, so full of grace…”

“I bet.” You rolled your eyes trying to check your head and body before settling your eyes on Wanda.

The young woman had put on some jeans and a white blouse, while her hair was still wet after the bath. You furrowed your brows looking away while catching the time on the clock on the wall. It was almost midday, which would explain why you were so hungry all of a sudden.

“I guess you really are feeling better.”

Wanda bounced lightly checking her hands and body, she wouldn’t say she felt better but she certainly was tired of being in bed while letting everyone come in and out to check her over. This world had a peculiar way to treat people with powers and having so many people with magical abilities come in and check her magical core had been extenuating and rather uncomfortable. The only time she had felt at ease had been with her counterpart, and that had been a whole different situation.

“I just need to get out of here.” Wanda finally revealed offering a half smile, “I heard from one of the nurses they have a nice restaurant right across the street, it has sandwiches and pizza…perhaps…”

You blinked a couple of times at the suggestion, your hand went right away to your pocket and your wallet. You hope the money you carried with you had some sort of value on this place, with a shrugged you nodded your agreement.

“Sounds like a plan. Lead the way, then.”

Wanda couldn’t hide her smile at the acceptance, she turned around and grabbing a jacket dragged you out of the room making her way directly to the elevator at the end of the hall. None of them noticed the camera watching their every move or the shadowy figure hidden in a close-by room. Your counterpart smirked shaking her head, she owed her wife a nice dinner. Wanda had always been right. Always.

In the security room, Wanda Maximoff allowed a tiny smile on her face, she lifted her stare to Tony and Loki, both of them shook their heads still slightly confused about the interaction.

“Now, what?” Tony finally asked staring at Wanda then at Loki.

“Now, we wait.” Loki replied waving away his hand. “For now, I think they are right, I’m starving and you ought to feed us, Stark.”

“Why is it always my responsibility?”

“You’re the one with money.” Loki replied ignoring the indignant huff coming from the older man, and the amused chuckled from Wanda.

_________________________

The restaurant was almost empty.

There were a few empty tables in the back, the one you chose was perfect for a nice conversation by hiding you two away from imprudent ears. The place was cosy, with decorations of blue and green creating a magical atmosphere with the dim lights around the establishment and the sweet aroma of spices that made you remembered home. You sat down facing Wanda who was looking troubled at the moment.

The waitress dedicated you a timid smile while putting a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Welcome to the Sandwich Emporium, what can I get you today?” Her question was directed at you, and her eyes never even bothered to look away as you grabbed the menu she was offering.

“I’m not sure, what do you recommend?” You glanced at the menu then back at Wanda, the redhead was glaring at the menu pursing her lips lightly while you merely frowned.

“Well, that depends on what are you looking for,” her tone of voice didn’t leave anything to the imagination, and you couldn’t help but raise a single eyebrow at that. The young woman opened her eyes wide blushing profusely. “I mean…I…”

“She is having La Tricolore and I’m having La Tartuffo.” Wanda point two pictures on the menu, before handing it over to the waitress, her eyes gleaming strangely while you just blinked slightly confused. “And I’m having some water, and she is having a cappuccino.”

“Very well, I’ll be right back.” The young woman left rather quickly, her ears burning red after having come across the redhead.

You had your eyebrows raised glancing over at Wanda who was trying rally hard to ignore you. After a moment she finally let out a heavy sigh, her head turned away from you.

“La Tricolore has beef, cheese, some hazelnuts, and that pistachio cream you…” here Wanda trailed off opening her eyes when she realized what she had done. “I’m sorry, I…”

“I like it, sounds delicious.” You placed your hands on the table not really bothered by what had happened but rather confused. “I’m surprised you remember.”

“I never forget.” Wanda brushed her hair away lifting her face to finally lock her eyes with yours. “I always…remember, Y/N.”

“I remembered too, Wanda. I remembered everything.” You stated but whatever anger you had held it had given way to bitterness and sadness.

Wanda winced tapping on the table before wiggling her hands together.

“I…I never got to…” She tilted her head, and you could see the tears hidden behind those green eyes. “I’m sorry.”

It didn’t even cover what had happened, all the pain she had caused on that day. But those words made your soul tremble, you scoffed shaking your head leaning back on the seat.

“It is too late, don’t you think?” You could see your words hurt her, and everything you had lived up to that point came rushing in piling up inside your mind until you just put everything away and left what was important.

Wanda nodded defeated, “I know, I just…I never got to say it to you.”

But it wasn’t about asking for forgiveness, and you knew that. And Wanda was also well aware of the fact. The question was not about forgiveness, the question was if you could move forward after everything that had happened.

“I never got to say it, I messed up. I was so afraid, I just…I didn’t know what to do, how to react, how to…deal with everything.”

Wanda spoke with a clear desperation tinge in her words, you could see the crumbling behind her eyes, how her soul would tremble while trying to tell you everything that you didn’t want to hear ten years ago.

“Vision was convenient.” Wanda said, this time around she grabbed the seat tightly her body completely tensed making her neck hurt as she forced herself to keep her head up and look at you. “I was so afraid, so lost and…and It’s not an excuse! I deserve your hatred! I deserved your anger! I just…”

“You could have told me, you know?” You finally said when it was obvious Wanda couldn’t continue talking. “I was there for you, and I could have helped. I thought you trusted me but instead of telling me whatever was happening you…”

This was not the conversation the both of you were supposed to have, or at least it wasn’t supposed to be this way. You weren’t supposed to understand, but to stand your ground and tell Wanda how much of a bitch she had been. But the last couple of days had taught you something about yourself, about Wanda and what could have been. And if Wanda was confused you weren’t fairing any better.

“I know you don’t get it, and that’s okay because you grew with Natasha and then you have Fury and Maria and Yelena…” Wanda waved her hand weakly, her tears rolling down while her eyes revealed the deep sadness she had always carried with herself.

“I lost everything, and I didn’t know how to deal…and you were strong, and brave, you were not afraid of anything and I was only me.” Wanda broke into a sob, with a crooked smile that showed you just how broken she was. How lost she was still feeling.

“I…after it happened I never…” Wanda started but couldn’t finish, you perked up at her words because this was something you hadn’t bothered to find out.

“What happened after I left? Were you happy? Did he make you happy?” You didn’t mean to sound so bitter, but your words carry with them poison that you had been holding for far too long.

“I didn’t stay with him, Y/N. I tried to look for you, to reach out for you but…but I couldn’t and I didn’t stay with Vision, I didn’t feel anything I just… I messed up! Okay? That’s what I did, and I didn’t know how to make it better and I’ve been trying to be good to make it better all these years…”

You wouldn't know about that.

Just as she was trying to do some good, you were trying to forget. It was one of the reasons why you kept yourself out of everyone's business and dealt with the superhero work alone. When Tony and Steve got into that quarrel and you saw what happened back in Lagos you knew you had made the right decision. Then, everything became more complicated and you just busy yourself with other problems, always trying to keep the team away while trying to get glimpses of news about Wanda. You knew it had been hard for her, and you also knew she was never alone.

Vision.

That had always been the main issue, wasn't it?

“I was on the run with the others, but I just wanted to disappear. Vision…he was helping me with getting a new identity.” Wanda leaned back tilting her head to the wall to hide the tears rolling down her cheek.

It was an answer to an unasked question. The conversation died for a moment, the waitress eyed Wanda before offering a smile to you placing the different orders on the table.

“Do you need anything else?”

“No, thank you.”

“Well, if there is anything I can do, I'm Anne.” The waitress offered one last smile walking backwards and then leaving you two alone.

The food smelled delicious; you grabbed your sandwich allowing Wanda the moment of privacy. The silence grew heavier just as you distracted yourself glancing around the place while taking another bite from your lunch.

“I was just trying to live my life, and then when Thanos happened…” Wanda huffed turning to her food, she was no longer hungry if anything she wanted to disappear.

Everything seemed so pointless, the look in your eyes would never leave, and she would go back to a world in which she was despised by the only woman she had ever been in love with.

“This is really delicious; you should try it.” You interrupted her, offering a full smile while grabbing another bite.

Wanda blinked confused; she kept her eyes on you then back on her food. For a brief moment, she hesitated, she was no longer hungry and if she were to be honest she felt tired. You took a sip from your cappuccino, placing your hand on the table, dangerously close to hers.

“I know you are hungry, Wanda. And I also know…I didn't want to know, but I get it.” You passed your hand on your hair pressing your back on the seat. “I'm tired of this, I just…”

“I can't take it when you look at me like that.”

“Like what?” You crunched up your nose, Wanda lowered her eyes grabbing her food.

“As if I am nothing to you, as if you…you hate me and…”

She trailed off putting the food in her mouth and silencing her words. You frowned, pursing your lips while playing those words inside your head.

“I don't hate you.” You softened your features, your eyes glistening under the weight of memories. “I could never hate you.”

Silence followed your statement, the shivering discomfort of what your words could mean infused the atmosphere with questions Wanda didn't dare to ask. You lowered your gaze and focused completely on the sandwich that was still on the plate, and for a good half hour that was all you and Wanda did.

When there was nothing else coming in between the unfinished conversation, Wanda put her hands on the table her eyes down casted. This was actually the very first time the both of you came face to face without anyone or anything coming in between. It was a confrontation you never thought would happen about something you had always imagined. It always came with different scenarios, but the outcome had always been the same. With you finally finding peace and never looking back, and with Wanda filled with regret for what she had lost.

This conversation though was completely different. You lifted your face finding those green eyes staring back at you with longing and a deep sadness that had become characteristic of Wanda.

“How did you end up in Westview?” The question rolled out of your lips with a hint of bitterness you could not hide.

Wanda winced playing the napkin on the table, you waited until the woman started talking again.

“I found the box you hid in your room back at the Avenger's compound.” She stated simply, her lips breaking into a grimace. “I never…after you left I never went back there until after the battle with Thanos and Steve’s funeral.”

Your eyes opened lightly in realisation; you remembered the box in which you had hidden the future you hoped to share with Wanda. The ring, the map, and the picture…everything made sense now; now you understood why Wanda had chosen that place and how everything had fit at one point or another. The only thing that was out of place had been Vision, your expression hardened and Wanda could tell you were thinking about Westview the life she had created there.

“I never thought of him, you know? I went there because I wanted to…” Wanda snorted lifting her face to the ceiling, her voice trembling under the weight of the memories. “I wanted to understand, and in a way, I wanted to find a way to go back to you. Not as…I mean, I wanted to at least be…be your friend.”

You shifted on the chair hearing as Wanda finally tell you her part of the story, how she had been completely alone after coming back from the Blip. Steve’s funeral showed her just how alone she was, and how lost she really felt; she didn’t have a work or a home or even family and friends. She spent her time driving around until she decided to ask for help and went to the only person she could think of: Tony.

In all this time you could see the story behind her eyes, you could read the suffering and the deep sadness in the gestures and the words that carried with them the flashbacks of those days in which you were ignorant of Wanda’s fate.

“I went there to punish myself.” Wanda broke into a bitter smile, “I guess I did a good job.”

“Wanda…” You started but the words tangled in your throat, the other woman waited expectantly but after a moment her face fell.

“You don’t have to…”

“You don’t have to punish yourself anymore.” You frowned lowering your gaze to the empty dishes on the table, you were fully aware of her eyes on you. “All this time, isolating yourself while unable to reach out to anyone…then, finding yourself in Westview with this Agatha…”

Wanda swallowed down her tears, she was trembling with a flame of hope flickering inside her heart. Wanda knew she had created the world around Westview, she knew that her isolation and her grief had broken out into an explosion of her magic to create a reality she could deal with. But she also knew her magic had been tampered with, and her illusion had been corrupted.

“I never stopped thinking about you.” She whispered with her hands grabbing the chair tightly, her eyes filled with unshed tears.

You nodded standing up while making your way to where she was sitting, you offered your hand though your face never changed. For a brief moment, Wanda hesitated, she glanced at your hand and then with a trembling hand accepted it.

“They do look like us, you know?” You stated flatly, your hand warm against hers.

Wanda furrowed her brows, her tears rolling down her cheeks but her eyes gleaming in confusion.

“Why?”

“Billy and Tommy.” You stated simply. “They do look like us.”

_______________________________________

That night you sat right outside the house.

Music and conversation could be heard in the backyard, with the lights of the kitchen projecting shadows on the grass. The sky above hour head was still showered with white dots that resulted familiar yet so different to what you were used to; the air was cold but nothing you couldn’t take in a night like that one.

You took a deep breath filling your lungs with cold air, inside your mind thoughts came crashing down into a myriad of possibilities and plans yet to be executed. The conversation with Wanda had gone unexpectedly well, yet you knew a lot of things needed to be done and said before things would be okay.

“Aren’t you a little cold out here?” America crunched up her nose trying to balance the two glasses she was carrying with her.

You turned to her, chuckling before stretching a little to help her out.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a part of this great celebration?”

America shrugged offering a tiny smile, “the twins are distracted with Wanda, both of them, and the rest is just chattering around.”

“So you decided to come to me?” You shook your head taking a sip from the beverage the young woman had brought with her. “You’re crazy.”

“Not as crazy as you are.” America wrapped her hands around the glass eyeing you out of the corner of her eyes. “How are you?”

“I guess I’m okay, how about you?” You pointed with your head to the house behind you, “this is what you missed, isn’t it? Now that you are back, well…”

America nodded turning her body to yours, “I feel happy, but I also feel lost. I know that I found them again, and I have so many possibilities right now, I just…”

“Don’t know what to do?” You asked, America shrugged lowering her eyes.

“I’m finally starting to understand my powers and to get some control over them, if I keep working on them I would be able to travel without getting lost.” America let out a sigh dropping her shoulders, “those are a lot of possibilities and right now I think I need stability and keep learning.”

“Wise words, you have grown some, kiddo.” You bumped against her shoulder; the young woman blushed lightly offering a timid smile. “It may take time, but I’m pretty sure you will learn to control them.”

None of you mentioned the possibility of America finding her way back home, while it was an option it didn’t mean that America would find it once she had some control on her abilities. But for now, the young woman was happy to learn more about her powers and herself, her heart and soul finally finding a place she could call home.

“You don’t mind me coming back with you and Wanda?” America finally asked biting her lower lip while taking the last sip of her drink to her lips.

“No, I think it’s going to be fun.” You replied glancing at the young woman, “but I have to tell you right now, the training is going to be brutal.”

“I didn’t expect anything else.”

You chuckled nodding, “good.”

America straightened up tilting her head to glance at you then back at the house. You knew what the question was she wanted to ask, but you didn’t rush it.

“Are you and Wanda going to be okay?”

“I don’t know.” The honesty with which you answered that surprised even you, you turned to America with a serious face. “I’m not sure what would happen, America, but I guess I’m willing to find out.”

“That’s good, right?”

You shrugged, and the young woman went back to rest her head on your shoulder still highly confused by your answer. The sound of laughter, music and conversation filling out the sudden silence that embrace the both of you, your thoughts coming back to Wanda and the day you had spent with her.

Only time would tell what would happen next, and you were waiting anxiously what would happen next.

_______________________________

Billy and Tommy were talking non-stop, they were excited showing Wanda the latest project they had been working on back at school. The young woman could hardly hold her tears while letting her children talk to her about school and their lives as if she had always been there.

At first, it had hurt.

Wanda knew they were not hers, and yet she couldn’t help but love them and see them with the same eyes she had seen the twins back in her universe. A part of her never thought she would see Billy and Tommy again, the moment the illusion had fallen around her and she discovered what she had done to Westview she knew there wouldn’t be a way for her to recover her children.

Yet here they were.

In another world, in another universe looking the same as she had imagined them once.

This time around everything was as it was supposed to be, with you by her side raising two children being a happy family. A part of Wanda felt envy for everything her counterpart had and she couldn’t have.

“Are you sure you can’t have a family of your own?”

Wanda huffed turning to the source of the voice, her counterpart stood right beside her with softened eyes staring at the twins that were getting ready for bed. Wanda dropped her arms to her sides, her eyes glancing back into the room then back to the woman standing beside her.

“I’m pretty sure, she…” Wanda wrapped her arms around herself furrowing her brows, “she doesn’t love me anymore. I am nothing more than…and ally, and even that would be to stretch out our relationship.”

The other Wanda pursed her lips, she stepped closer never letting go of those green eyes she was so familiar with.

“You don’t believe that.” Wanda stated holding back a smile when the other woman stepped back scowling.

“I have to believe it, I can’t…” Wanda sighed lifting her chin to the ceiling holding back her weakness, she didn’t want the twins to see her cry. “I have to believe it or I will break my heart once more and I can’t lose control of my magic, I…last time it didn’t go well.”

The room filled with laughter, Billy ran to the bed jumping up and down with Tommy trying to follow up before falling down on his face. Wanda couldn’t help but gasp ready to help out but stopping when a gentle hand wrapped tenderly on her forearm. It was strange to see herself staring at her looking the same yet being so different than she was.

The twins were back in the game, falling on bed while discussing some subject Wanda couldn’t hear pretty well. The fall was soon forgotten and both of them were ready to go to sleep.

“Go on, you can put them to be and I will wait for you here.”

“Thank you.” Wanda whispered to her counterpart entering the room and going to Billy first.

The woman offered a shaky smile, her trembling hand brushing away his dark hair while her lips curved into a smile. Billy smiled back blinking slowly.

“Are you okay, mom?”

Wanda nodded leaning in placing a single kiss on his forehead, “more than okay, Billy. Have a good night, baby.”

“Good night, mommy.”

Then, Wanda went to Tommy who was looking at her differently, he wrapped his arms around her hugging her tightly and this time around she couldn’t help but cry.

“I love you, mom.”

“I love you too, Tommy, now go to sleep.” Once more she placed a kiss on Tommy’s forehead and with that she stepped back walking towards the door. “Sleep well, guys.”

“Night, mom!”

The door close behind her, and Wanda stood there allowing herself the goodbye she had longed to have with the twins. She tried to give the right closure to her emotions knowing full well she would go back a world in which she would be all alone. No twins, no Y/N, only her.

“Thank you.” Wanda whispered locking her eyes with those of her counterpart, the other woman nodded curtly.

“I knew it was important for you.” The woman hesitated for a moment before continuing, “but you shouldn’t lose any hope, Wanda. You and Y/N…”

“Don’t, please.” Wanda said softly. “Don’t give me hope, don’t tell me it is possible because…god, I’ve been breaking my heart over and over again and I just…I can’t take it anymore.”

“Then don’t let it go, don’t let it go without a fight.”

Wanda lifted her face to see her counterpart dead serious, the woman came closer wrapping her hands on her forearms making sure Wanda could not look away.

“You love her, and I am pretty sure she loves you as well, whatever happened in the past it shall stay there.” Wanda then softened letting go of her grip. “Don’t give up just yet, you may be surprised.”

Wanda wanted to talk, she wanted to believe but at the moment she was just tired and overwhelmed by everything that had happened, everything she had lived up to that point. She was overwhelmed by the fact that you were so close to her yet so far away, that she would go back to a world in which the twins were not there and she would be, once more, alone.

________________________________________

It was a sunny day.

America went over the contents of her backpack, her body was tingling all over while a void filled with butterflies settled in her lower abdomen. She closed her eyes taking a deep breath, her hands trembling while she secured the zipper on the backpack.

“You look nervous, you know you don’t have to go, right?” Y/N came into the room glancing around before settling her eyes on America, the young woman turned around offering a tiny smile.

“I know.” She replied shrugging, her hands played with the band on her wrist she tried to look everywhere but at Y/N but at the end of the day she couldn’t help it, she lifted her face and let the tears fall down.

“I’m sorry.” America whispered waiting for a recrimination on her part, for Y/N to finally tell her how bad she had messed up the first time she had fallen on their Universe.

But it never came, nor from her or Wanda, or anyone for that matter. America surrendered to the warm embrace of Y/N’s arms, she let the tears and sobs she had been holding to scape and finally liberated her mind of the guiltiness she had been feeling all this time.

“Hey, kiddo, it’s okay, it wasn’t your fault.” Y/N whispered soothingly her hand drawing circles with a half-smile showing on her face.

“I just…I shouldn’t have run the way I did, I should have fight or something.” America replied, leaning back, she was furrowing her brows while lifting her hands. “I could have stayed and helped around.”

“It wasn’t optional, though. You had to keep going to survive, that’s rule number one in this line of work, America.” Y/N put her hands on her pockets, her hair falling to the side with an easy smile adorning her lips. “You did what you have to at that point and no one should ever blame you for that. If it hadn’t been that way well, I wouldn’t be here telling the story.”

America doubted very much that it would have happened in such a way, but she would never really know it for certain. Ever since she started travelling through universes consciously she had learnt to deal with the different realities, trying to adapt to them and survive them. She never thought she would settle in a single universe, much less that she would get attach to the people in it.

The sound of conversation broke the sudden silence in the room, the twins laughing with Pietro and Wanda yelling for everyone to go to the backyard was the signal America had been waiting for. She stepped closer to give Y/N one last hug.

“Thank you for everything you did for me, Y/N. I couldn’t say this the last time due to the circumstances…”

“Us running for our lives?” Y/N chimed in chuckling, America snorted rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, that, I mean you guys received me in your home and gave me a chance to a family, I just..I will always carry that with me.”

Y/N softened while giving the teen another hug, “anytime kid, you are welcome in our household whenever you decided to come back.”

“I know, I just think I am needed it elsewhere.”

“I think so to.” Y/N stepped back glancing to the open door. “Watch over them, make sure that they are okay.”

“I will.” America smiled grabbing her backpack ready to go.

It was almost midday by the time America and Y/n came out of the house.

The backyard was full with Tony and Loki working around the logistics and the twins just running around between the two Wanda’s and everyone else. You stood by the garden, the conversation that Loki was having with Tony, Wong, Hank and America had lost all meaning as you entertained yourself with the last sight of the world that could have been. Your body was completely tensed, your eyes drifting around until they fell on the form of Wanda, your Wanda.

“Are you ready?” Y/N asked, you turned to her shaking your head.

“Were you?”

“No, I was never ready whenever she was around.” Y/N replied shrugging, “but once we had made our mind there was nothing that could stop us.”

You snorted nodding, “that’s right.”

“Are you going to fight?” Y/N stepped closer, her eyes going from you to Wanda then back again.

“I am going to make things right, I’m not sure if they will end up the same way it did here.” You replied placing your hands inside your pockets. “I guess only time will tell.”

Y/N nodded stretching her right hand to you, an easy smile forming on her lips.

“I hope everything goes well for you and Wanda, Y/N, just remember what’s really important.” Y/N said grabbing your hand with a friendly squeezed. “Please, be happy.”

“Protect them and be for them whenever they need you.” You replied squeezing back.

“I will.”

“Well, I guess we can try the portal once more, are you guys ready? Did you say your good-byes?” Tony clapped before rubbing his hands, everyone went to get in position until the cries of two boys reached them over.

Tommy and Billy came running with Wanda following them close behind, Billy went directly to Wanda wrapping his arms around her while Tommy went to you.

“I’m gonna miss you.” He mumbled looking up at you.

You chuckled ruffling his hair playfully, “I doubt it, pal. You have your mom’s here, but I am gonna miss you.”

“Say hi to your Tommy for me, please? Tell him he has the best mom in the whole universe!”

Those words pierced deeply inside your heart, but the innocence and the smile in Tommy’s face made you held back any reaction that wasn’t one of agreement.

“I will, Tommy, be good.”

At the other side of the yard Wanda and Billy were having a similar conversation, Wanda hugged him tightly before trying to let go. Billy called to her, looking around before wrapping his arms around Wanda’s neck, his lips close to her ear.

“Everything is gonna be okay, mommy, don’t worry, mom will come around.” Billy offered a toothy grin to Wanda who was too shocked to talk. “say hi to your billy for me, love you mom!”

Wanda watched as Billy joined his brother right beside their mother, Wanda locked eyes with her counterpart who offered a half smile and a vision Wanda Maximoff would not talk about until several years later. For now, she was just filled with doubts, and hopes, and uncertainties and soon Wanda was drowned by the voices surrounding her.

“Okay, this shouldn’t be that difficult, everyone remembers their roles?” Loki asked once more standing to the side while pointing at America who rolled her eyes.

“I do, I remember.”

“Good, because if you fail the three of you are going to be traveling around without a proper destination and probably die a horrible dead.”

“That’s so comforting, Loki.” You replied rolling your eyes. 2Stop scaring America and do your job.”

Loki rolled his eyes flickering his hands while putting the golden book out of thin air, he sat down crossing his legs while looking to an invisible spot in front of him.

“Very well, your timeline is not that hard to find, it is the only one with a latent anomaly.”

“How can you tell is ours and not a random one?”

Loki glared at you before going back to his work, “I can sense it, and this one lack something, it is missing something, I guess that would be both of you.”

Soon everyone was taking positions, Wanda stood beside you shifting from one foot to the other, her hands wiggling nervously while she tried to keep her eyes right ahead of herself. You could sense her uneasiness, her hands twitching biting her lower lip. America came forward, she was showing off a frown filled with confusion that Tony helped erased with a whispered explanation.

You eyed Wanda out of the corner of your eyes, the woman was completely tensed still bouncing trying to hold onto something but unable to find herself at ease. You doubted it for a moment before you grabbed her hand in yours.

Her hand was warm and soft, at first she was completely tensed and rigid but as soon as she sensed it was you her hand started to relax and give in the feeling.

“It’s gonna be okay.” You whispered; Wanda offered a smile nodding.

“I know.” Wanda knew that as long as you kept holding her hand everything would be okay, she didn’t dare to say anything else but in a bold move she spread her fingers and soon her hand was intertwined with yours.

You jerked around but Wanda was completely focused on America, after a moment of hesitation you straightened up frowning lightly though your hand clasped tenderly Wanda’s hand.

“Okay, it was nice meeting you all, now let’s begin.” Loki closed his eyes and soon the golden light of his magic started gleaming powerfully forming a tight circle that surrounded you and Wanda alongside America.

America could feel the power, she was sensing it through her muscles and her fingertips while her mind became a mask of pure blankness trying to form an idea. She remembered the lesson, to follow the magic around her while also joining her energy with that of Wanda and Y/N, her power running through her arm in electric jolts and then igniting her eyes until she was finally ready to make it explode.

Pulling her arm back, closing her fist America stretched her arm hitting the space in between her and the backyard creating an explosion in the form of a Star. The portal opened until it was as big as America, you peeked in watching the white plains of Norway, or at least that was what you thought.

With a last glance to your counterpart and Wanda, you squeezed the hand you were holding tenderly.

“Ready?” It was all you could say before the young woman nodded and with a single step she dragged you right through the portal.

The world you three had left behind was waiting for you.

And you were not sure what would happen next, the only thing you knew for certain was that you didn’t want to let go of the hand holding yours.

The portal closed behind the three of you leaving everyone behind with many questions and little to no answers.

Billy and Tommy hugged Wanda still glancing the place where the portal had been moments ago. The woman glanced at her children knowing there was something bothering greatly.

“Mommy, do you think they will love us?” Tommy asked lifting his face to Wanda, Wanda furrowed her brows tilting her head.

“What do you mean, baby?”

Billy scrunched up his nose, “You think they will love Billy and Tommy the way you love us?”

Wanda softened at the question; she knelt in front of her boys not really knowing how to explain that in their world they both didn’t even exist.

“Billy, I’m pretty sure that they would be very lucky to have children like the both of you, and they would absolutely love you very much.” This answer seemed to satisfy the boys, and just when Wanda thought the topic was over Tommy talked again.

“They are gonna love us very much, mommy.” Tommy smiled snugging closer to Wanda. “Just like they love one another very much, that’s how you and mommy made us, right?”

Wanda didn’t answer, but a part of her certainly hope that Tommy was not wrong. She had always hoped that her love for you would survive in every universe, Wanda lifted her face to see Y/N looking at her with tenderness and love, and Wanda knew right there and then that her counterpart would be okay.

You never stopped looking at her like that, you just learnt how to hide it pretty well.

You were still pretty much in love with your Wanda.

And now that you were gone with her, only time would tell if love was still possible.

Wanda sighed wishing you would let go of your resentment and doubts and give yourself and her counterpart a chance.

With a last glance to the space where you and the others had been standing, Wanda turned around hopeful that the past would stay in the past.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Next Chapter: You are finally back to your universe, everything seems surreal as you and the others are taken to interrogation rooms before resuming your normal lives. Carol doesn't want to leave your side, and Wanda knows she needs to step aside even though that's the last thing she wants to do.

#fanfic #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wandaxreader #female reader #imagine wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader

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thethirdromana · 2 years ago

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Mem., get recipe for Mina: a food guide to Dracula Daily

Inspired by There and Snack Again (in which you eat along with the LOTR movies), this is your guide to eating and drinking along with Dracula Daily.

All under a cut because there's no way I can do this without extensive spoilers. I strongly recommend not reading this unless you already know what happens in Dracula. Also only if you're comfortable reading about alcoholic drinks - there's a lot of booze in this novel.

Let's eat!

2 May We start with the famous paprika hendl. Google "chicken paprikash" and choose whichever recipe most strikes your fancy.

3 May For breakfast, choose from mamaliga (cornmeal porridge, similar to grits), "impletata" (vânătă umplută - stuffed aubergine) or anything with more paprika in it.

4 May For dinner, Jonathan has robber steak: "bits of bacon, onion, and beef, seasoned with red pepper, and strung on sticks and roasted over the fire".

5 May Slivovitz, if you'd like it (Jonathan declines). Then, for dinner, Dracula serves up roast chicken, with some cheese, a salad and a glass or two of Tokaji wine.

6 May "A cold breakfast" for Jonathan. In Romania a cold breakfast might include boiled eggs, telemea (sheep's cheese), franzela (bread) with assorted spreads, sliced cucumber and tomatoes, and sunculita taraneasca (sliced smoked pork). Jonathan also has "an excellent supper", but doesn't tell us what that includes.

16 May Would it be too bleak if I suggested eating a symbolic Jelly Baby?

26 May A glass of wine as Quincey and Jack congratulate Arthur and drown their sorrows.

18 June There's a kind of Scottish fruit slice called "flies' graveyard". That might make a suitable snack given Renfield's meal today.

24 June I guess a gingerbread woman, for the wolves? IDK, it turns out doing this for a horror novel is a bit grim.

8 July Thankfully the internet has hundreds of ideas for spider-themed cakes so you can eat along with Renfield.

18 July The voyage of the Demeter begins! Celebrate by eating like a sailor: have some salt pork, or make ship's biscuit.

20 July Renfield has just eaten several sparrows. Provide redress by feeding birds near you, bird flu guidance permitting.

24 July Imitate the "feet-folk" from York and Leeds by drinking some tea or eating some cured herring.

10 August Lucy and Mina enjoy a "severe tea". There are lots of severe teas in Victorian literature, but few writers actually describe what's in it - e.g. the Churchman's shilling magazine, 1868, has a story with a severe tea "which implies coffee, tea, and muffins, with substantials". What are substantials? I have no idea, but that's what you should eat today.

11 August Dracula has a little nibble on Lucy. I don't suggest doing this for every vampire bite in the novel, but given this one is particularly significant, how about marking the occasion with some black pudding?

30 August No food details for a while, but in this entry, Lucy notes that she "has an appetite like a cormorant" and "Arthur says I am getting fat". Celebrate with some cake.

3 September Van Helsing has been! And surely he wouldn't have come all the way from the Netherlands empty-handed? Acknowledge his visit with some gouda or a stroopwafel.

4 September Eat some sugar, which Renfield has requested for his flies.

7 September To stay in line with what the characters actually eat and drink, have a glass of port (though ideally not if you've just given blood). But for the real spirit of the day, consider a corn-on-the-cob.

9 September Free space! Jack has "an excellent meal" but doesn't say what it is. Dig into your favourite dinner.

10 September A sip of brandy, with which Van Helsing wets Lucy's lips.

11 September The garlic flowers arrive. There's lots that you can make with wild garlic - personally, I like it in risotto.

17 September A boxful of garlic flowers arrive for Lucy every day. Time to make chicken with 40 cloves of garlic. Other options for today include more black pudding (in honour of Renfield lapping up Jack's blood) or sherry.

18 September The Zookeeper enjoys a teacake, and so shall we.

20 September No food, but the labourers have "a stiff glass of grog". This is rum diluted with water, but you could also add lemon or lime juice, sugar, and/or cinnamon.

25 September Nibble another Jelly Baby for the Bloofer Lady.

29 September A lot happens in this entry, but there's not a lot of food. There are thirsty labourers, however. Maybe have a beer?

30 September Mina makes everyone a pot of tea. Also, we don't know what they have for dinner, but they eat it at 7pm, if you'd like to time your evening meal accordingly.

1 October More tea! Since this is being gulped down by a working man, make it builder's style - strong, sweet, lots of milk.

2 October Jonathan visits the Aërated Bread Company. He only has a cup of tea, but you could have whatever you like best from their menu:

(source)

3 October Dracula forces Mina to drink his blood like "a child forcing a kitten's nose into a saucer of milk". You could either have some more black pudding, or drink a glass of milk in solidarity with Mina.

15 October The Crew of Light aren't focusing much on meals any more, but they have travelled on the Orient Express. Here's the 1887 dining car menu.

(source - I can't vouch for the accuracy of a random person on Twitter but it looks plausible)

29 October No one is thinking of food in this bit of the novel (though Mina makes yet more tea), but as they're heading to Romania, have some sarmale. These stuffed cabbage rolls are the Romanian national dish.

31 October Mina and Van Helsing have "a huge basket of provisions". Have a picnic in their honour, if it's warm enough where you are.

1 November Mina and Van Helsing have "hot soup" into which the local cooks have put an extra amount of garlic. Consider having a truly extra amount of garlic with this 44-garlic-clove soup.

7 November The Crew of Light return to Transylvania. No details of food, but in honour of their journey, I would suggest a final round of chicken paprikash, to bring us back to where it all began.

#dracula daily #dracula spoilers #long post #incredibly long post #let me know if i've missed any notable meals and i'll add them in #posted a day or two before the start of dracula daily so anyone wanting to eat along has time to get their shopping in

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tatatatatara · 2 years ago

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Me when the tags include Houji and Tatara

On the Easel (Blank Canvas Side Story): Tatara and Houji

Context: The Chì Shé Theater Company is showing its Japanese production of its new play Iron Tongues, which is, in part, written by Tatara, the lighting director of the Japan branch. Takes place during Chapter 9 of Blank Canvas. Under the cut.

The curtains fell on the final act, and people applauded. Tatara, in the darkness of the theater, sighed with relief. It was over, and it was well received. That's all he could ask for.

He tried to look for Sen as people cleared her out. He wanted to ask her what she thought, try to understand the fog around her mind that he still had yet to pierce, but the crowd, much like that fog, kept him away. That head of fern hair he was so fond of was nowhere to be seen, and he gave up. He'd see her afterward anyway, along with that artist she liked to drag around for whatever reason.

He still didn't understand what she saw in him. Sure, his art fit the aesthetic of her work, but it wasn't the best he'd seen. Plenty of the artists she'd brought for him to talk to had done better, more informed work, so what made Haise Sasaki different?

He feared he'd never know, but before he could dwell on that idea, a familiar voice spoke behind him.

"Xin."

Tatara turned around and glared. The face it belonged to had gotten older, with more wrinkles, but he still recognized it since Yan's funeral.

"Houji," he said, not caring to suppress his disgust. "Why are you here?"

"Work has me here in Tokyo for the time being, and I heard your play was tonight." Houji smiled slightly. "I wanted to see how far you've come."

Tatara scowled at that. "Is that so? Well, now you know."

Houji sighed. "Xin, we don't have to do this. I'm tired, and I'm sure you're tired, too. I'm sorry-- I truly am-- but this is getting us nowhere."

But Tatara dug in his heels. "It's easy for you to say. You're not the one who has to live with the fact that his brother is dead every day for the rest of his life. You're not the one who has to look at your sorry mug and remember that his brother chose a stranger over his own life."

"Xin--" Houji began.

“My brother cared about you enough to save your sorry ass, and clearly, you’re grateful, as you should be. But don’t pretend I feel the same way. Yan was irreplaceable to me— to everyone at Chì Shé— and he’s gone forever because he picked you over us.” Tatara leaned forward, making sure to memorize the building anguish and regret, burning like fire, in Houji’s eyes. “Thank you for coming to tonight’s performance. Don’t speak to me again.”

Houji’s mouth was a thin line. “Of course. But, first... might I be allowed a congratulations?”

Tatara squinted. “Fine. Accepted.”

Houji bowed before turning to leave. His continued nonchalance about the whole thing ticked Tatara off. At least pretend to feel more than just a little bad. Houji was the entire reason Tatara was the lighting director and not Yan. But Houji's posture betrayed nothing as he disappeared back into the crowd.

Tatara tried to scoff, but it turned into a sigh. It was good Fei wasn’t here to slap him upside the head; he wouldn’t hear the end of it if she learned Houji had shown up.

She was always asking Tatara to forgive him, as if there was anything to forgive. Houji hadn’t been the one to choose, hadn't been the one to survive of his own will. Yet, every time Tatara saw his face, he just saw Yan being consigned to the flames for a man he barely knew.

He clicked his tongue. It was pointless to think about it; Houji would never show up again if he knew what was good for him. Tatara had more important things to focus on, like the resort and finding Ayato.

He stalked off in the opposite direction.

----

Thanks for reading!

#it's 6 AM in the morning and this is better for my brain than a cup of coffee #why do i get reminded about big hero 6 #anyways yayyyyy houji with survivor's guilt just like in canon (unconfirmed) and tatara hating houji for something not his fault ❤❤❤❤❤#and fei mentioneddddddd #this is gonna be my breakfast #*gasp* yan is a good guy in this universe? saving a total stranger? why is his brother still a terrorist (terrorizing Haise everytimes)#sorry yan when i first heard about chi she lian theater i thought it was like uh a place to launder money for your shady works #sorry about that and may you rest in peace and watch over your simp brother he's being rude to everyone #love this a lot thank you for writing this #this will get me through the hard cold day (working)

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starkissedmallow · 1 month ago

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Shota Aizawa SFW Alphabet

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Shota is very affectionate around you but only in private. He wants to keep his love life separate from his personal life as much as possible to keep you safe.

He shows affection by cuddling with you, holding your hand, kissing you tenderly, and holding you close as you fall asleep together.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Shota is the kind of best friend that would offer great advice and help you overcome any obstacles you may face. He’s steadfast and willing to help you through anything.

Your friendship would start off slowly and then over time you would get closer to each other and allow each other to break down the walls that you have built up to protect yourself.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Shota loves cuddling with you. It’s a great way for him to destress after a long day. He cuddles you by being the big spoon and wrapping his arms tightly around you while holding you close to his chest to hear his heartbeat.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Yes, Shota wants to settle down with you and have a family. It’s not something he’s wanted his whole life though because he was afraid of losing those he loves. But once he met you that all changed. He’s very good at cooking and cleaning. Shota loves to keep your home clean and tidy. He loves cooking you various home cooked meals.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Shota would be the type of guy to meet with you in person to break up with you and he lets you go gently. He doesn’t want it to sting for either of you but if things aren’t working out he’ll let you know.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Shota is very open to the idea of commitment. He’s always wanted to get married and settle down. He would want to get married about a year into dating.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Shota is very gentle both physically and emotionally. He’s calm, collected, and patient with you.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Shota loves giving and receiving hugs. He gives you hugs every chance that he gets. His hugs are warm, comforting, and lingering.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He says he loves you about 6 months into dating. Once he knows he knows without a doubt.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Shota can get a little jealous sometimes especially when it comes to other people flirting with you. He gets cold and distant when he’s jealous and you have to remind him that you’re all his.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Shota’s kisses are gentle, lingering, and warm. He likes to kiss you on your lips, forehead, and neck. Shota likes to be kissed on the lips and neck.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Shota is very patient around children. He doesn’t mind kids and he’s actually really good with kids. Kids generally seem to enjoy being around Shota due to his patient and easygoing personality.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings with Shota are spent relaxing while drinking a cup of coffee, eating some breakfast, and watching TV before heading out for the day.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights are spent watching a movie together, going for a nighttime walk, or cuddling on the couch.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It would take Shota a while to open up about himself. He takes his time to open up to you but you don’t mind one bit.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He’s very patient and doesn’t get angry when but you know when he does get angry.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Shota remembers the small things about you such as your favorite color, the things you love about him, and other random facts.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite moment in your relationship is when he met you for the first time. He was blown away by your beauty and the way you smiled at him for the first time. He can never forget that.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Shota is very protective. He protects you physically by keeping an eye on you when out in public, holding you close, and watching out for any suspicious activity that could harm you.

He likes to be protected by allowing himself to confide in you. Shota has some secrets that he only confides in you and he wants you to guard those with your life.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Shota puts in a little bit of effort into dates, etc. he’s not too big into planning for these types of dates but you don’t care as long as your with him that’s all that matters.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Shota tends to leave dirty laundry around the house albeit in tidy piles but you have to remind him to clean up after himself often.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Shota isn’t all that concerned with his looks. He likes looking like he just rolled out of bed in a good way (according to him)

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yes, Shota would feel incomplete without you because you complete him in every way.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Shota is a cat guy and loves cats of all types. You have a total of five cats already and he wants to get more. He has a tendency to bring cats home from seeing them wandering the streets.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Shota doesn’t like a partner who is too prim and proper. It rubs him the wrong way and isn’t compatible with his personality style.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Shota loves sleeping and honestly tries to sleep every chance that he gets. He sleeps on average about 10 hours every day. He could sleep through anything and sleeps like a rock every night.

#starkissedmallow #shota aizawa #aizawa shouta #mha aizawa #bnha aizawa #aizawa x reader #aizawa shōta #aizawa shota x reader #mha imagines #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #mha x reader #Shota Aizawa hcs #Shota Aizawa headcanon #aizawa headcanons #aizawa imagine #boku no hero x reader #mha hcs #sfw alphabet

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syndrossi · 19 days ago

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My town has been BLANKETED by snow which is STILL FALLING, and it's glorious. The white shock of it is just so pretty. And cold! But oh-so-pretty.

May I request a short snow-related drabble? Any verse. 🌨🌨🌨☃️🌨🌨🌨

So jealous of your blanket of snow! We've been unseasonably warm here, so pretty much all of our precipitation has been rain. BUT we are due some rain-turning-to-snow later this week! So in honor of snows past, and the snows to come, here's a short ficlet set some indeterminate time in the future (likely 6-8 months later than where we currently are in Resonant).

x~x~x

“It is snowing!”

Daemon opened bleary eyes at the accompanying quake to his bed as his younger son pounced upon it. Such early morning antics were usually more within Jon’s domain, with Rhaegar more inclined to lazy mornings, especially without lessons—and especially in the cold damp of winter at Raventree, where House Blackwood had eagerly offered to play host.

Daemon had happily indulged in the luxury of sleeping well past the normal hour for breakfast, Rhaegar a warm lump at his side while Jon went riding with Lord Blackwood’s eldest son and heir, Samwell. Even though the boy was nearly a decade Jon’s elder, his son had made fast friends with him.

“It is winter,” Daemon mumbled, debating whether to pull the blanket back over his head, but he made the mistake of catching his son’s eyes, which were bright with a joy that his more reserved son rarely showed. He sat up with a groan, and his hand was seized, his son dragging him to the window to pull back the curtains.

The ground, which had been hard and cold but bare the night before, was now blanketed in white, and heavy flakes swirled in the air, obscuring vision beyond more than a hundred feet. Wind rattled the glass panes of their window, and Daemon withheld a shudder, able to feel the cold through it, leeching the warmth of their bedchamber away.

These days he hated the cold more than almost anything, but he could remember the joy of frolicking in the snow as a child. That was the entire reason he had chosen to take the boys to the Riverlands, he reminded himself. So that they could experience the joys of snow free of the thick smoke that choked King’s Landing throughout the winter.

Daemon could remember his father playing alongside them, no less enthused about constructing grand defensive structures out of snow to crouch behind between salvos of snowballs.

“It is so beautiful,” Rhaegar murmured, looking almost mesmerized as he stared through the window. “So quiet.”

“For now,” Daemon said wryly. That would change as soon as the boys were outside. “Shall we dress and find your brother?”

Rhaegar vanished before he was even halfway through the question. Daemon dressed at a more leisurely pace, amused by how his son’s impatience shone through an unusually thin veneer of politeness. He used the time to explain the various games there were to play in the snow—in making snow dragons, and pelting one another with snow, and constructing forts of varying quality.

He knew both sons well enough to be certain that they would take such construction very seriously. The hatchlings, meanwhile, would pose an interesting complication—or element of warfare against opposing snow structures.

“Qelebrys and I can be your allies against Jon,” Rhaegar offered.

Daemon raised a brow at him in question. “That does not seem fair to your brother.”

The look he received in return was one of pity. “Trust me, an alliance is your only chance to emerge with any semblance of dignity.”

#resonant asks #resonant 'verse ficlets

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infamous-light · 8 months ago

Text

You Belong to Me Ch. 6

Alcina Dimitrescu x F! Reader

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5

AO3: You Belong to Me

Summary: Lady Dimitrescu's obsession knows no bounds as she becomes increasingly possessive over you. Will you succumb to her dark embrace, or find a way to break free before it's too late?

Word Count: 4.2K

Warnings: Yandere, possessive/obsessive behavior, needles

There was a knock on the door. The sound was sharp and sudden, shattering the stillness that filled the bedroom.

From her perch in a high-backed chair near the crackling fireplace, Lady Dimitrescu lifted her gaze, her cold, golden eyes narrowing in annoyance behind her dark lashes. Her attention had previously been focused on various documents meticulously arranged on the coffee table, papers filled with finely penned notes and small diagrams.

“Enter.” She commanded.

Sofia stepped in, carefully balancing a silver tray filled with an assortment of breakfast items.

"Set it on the nightstand."

"Yes, my Lady." Sofia responded immediately.

Lady Dimitrescu's eyes followed Sofia's movements, observing every detail with an air of detachment.

As she made her way across the bedroom, Sofia's eyes widened in surprise upon noticing your presence. However, she quickly composed herself, seamlessly slipping back into her professional role as she set the tray on the nightstand beside you.

The tray held an array of delicacies that seemed almost too perfect: golden, freshly baked croissants glistening with a hint of butter, promising warmth and flakiness with each bite. Next to them, a colorful selection of ripe, juicy fruits beckoned, their sweet aroma mingling in the air, and completing the ensemble was a crystal-clear glass of water.

Dread churned in your stomach at the sight of the glass. Your mind involuntarily replayed the memory in excruciating detail: the subtle bitterness that tainted the water, the slow, creeping numbness that spread throughout your body, and through it all, you remembered the smug satisfaction in Lady Dimitrescu’s eyes as you succumbed to the sedative.

Your eyes flickered to Sofia, who stood nearby, gazing at you with barely concealed concern. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her dress, betraying her nervousness, and her lips were pressed into a thin, tense line. Her eyes darted between you and Lady Dimitrescu, reflecting a mixture of apprehension and sympathy. Your eyes silently pleaded with Sofia to help you in some way, but you knew she couldn’t do anything. She was as much a prisoner of this situation as you were.

“You may leave.” Lady Dimitrescu said dismissively.

Sofia curtsied and swiftly exited the bedroom. The sound of the door closing behind her felt like a finality, sealing you in alone with the Lady again.

Lady Dimitrescu let out a low sigh – the sound heavy with a mix of weariness and restrained impatience – as she set the documents aside.

“Alright, darling, it’s time for you to eat.” She murmured.

Rising gracefully from her chair, she moved with a regal poise as she made her way over to you. As she reached your side, she bent over at the hip, her hands sliding under your back to gently but firmly prop you up against the plush pillows. She arranged you as if you were a fragile doll in need of careful handling. Taking a seat on the edge of the mattress, Lady Dimitrescu reached out for the croissant resting on the plate and brought it to your lips, her gaze fixed on your face expectantly.

You pressed your lips together and turned your head away, your body instinctively recoiling from the food in front of you. Doubt gnawed at your mind, and you couldn't shake the suspicion that something had been done to the food, if it had been pilled out or tampered with in some way.

“It’s okay. I’m not that hungry.” You said softly, the words almost a whisper amongst the silence that followed.

The air seemed to thicken with each passing moment, the weight of Lady Dimitrescu's gaze intensifying as she observed you. You kept your gaze averted, unable to meet her eyes.

Her lips curled into a knowing smirk. “I understand your reluctance, darling, but you must eat something.”

The flicker of defiance in your eyes did not escape her notice, so she adjusted her posture slightly, leaning in with a subtle yet palpable authority. You curled more into yourself, trying to shrink away from her penetrating gaze, but she remained steadfast, her eyes fixed on you. The air around you began to crackle with tension. Her eyes narrowed slightly, the intensity of her stare growing sharper. The smirk on her face transformed into a thin, dangerous smile, one that instinctively signaled danger.

“That wasn’t a request,” she continued smoothly. “If you won’t eat, I'll force it down your throat.”

The menace in her tone sent a shiver down your spine, the words hanging in the air like a dark promise. Lady Dimitrescu’s smile widened, but it held no warmth. She moved closer, her presence looming over you like a dark cloud.

“You will eat, whether you like it or not.” She whispered, her voice low and threatening.

A rush of fear and adrenaline coursed through you, quickening your pulse. The memory of the bitter, medicinal taste from before flashed through your mind, and the thought of being drugged again, or worse, made your stomach churn. You knew you couldn't trust her, couldn't allow yourself to be at her mercy even more, especially not after what happened last night. At that moment, consequences mattered little; a surge of defiance rose within you, and you straightened up, shoulders squared, meeting her cool gaze with as much courage as you could muster.

“I won't.” You replied, your voice steadier now, though your hands trembled at your sides.

For a moment, there was only silence, broken by the sound of your own ragged breathing. Then, without warning, she lunged forward, grabbing your jaw with a grip like iron. Her fingers dug into your skin, forcing your head up to meet her gaze. Her eyes blazed with fury, a cold, unyielding anger. Her face was an inch away from yours, her breath hot and wild against your skin, carrying the faint scent of wine and something metallic.

“Open your mouth!” Lady Dimitrescu demanded.

Fear and anger battled inside of you, but you refused to back down. Gathering every ounce of your strength, you pushed against her, trying to break free from her grasp. Your muscles strained as you fought to break loose. Your breaths came in short, sharp bursts, yet, with each futile struggle, her grip remained firm, a silent reminder of her sheer strength and control.

Lady Dimitrescu growled, a low, menacing sound. Her grip tightened, her thumb and forefinger like steel vices pressing into the pressure points underneath your jaw, sending a sharp pain shooting through your nerves. You felt your mouth being forced open against your will, the muscles straining and twitching against the force she applied.

She then stuffed a piece of the croissant into your mouth and squeezed it close. The fresh, dry texture of the pastry crumbled against your tongue, and you could taste the buttery residue left on it.

“I won’t let go until I see you swallow that piece.” Lady Dimitrescu hissed through her teeth.

You glared up at her through angry tears. They stung your eyes and traced burning paths down your cheeks, pooling at the corners of your mouth. Yet, she continued to gaze down at you, unmoved by your protest. She arched an eyebrow, a silent challenge in her gaze, as if daring you to defy her further. The ache around your jaw increased, a persistent throb that radiated through your temples, causing your head to pound with each pulse. You balled up your fists at your sides, nails digging into your palms in a futile attempt to redirect the discomfort away from your jaw.

A condescending smile broke across Lady Dimitrescu’s lips, transforming her stern expression into one of mocking amusement. She chuckled darkly, the sound low and cold, “I can assure you, pet,” she said in a patronizing tone, “Neither the food nor the drink is laced with any sort of drug. Now, stop behaving like a little brat and eat.”

The dismissive way she spoke to you, as if you were nothing more than an unruly child, made your blood boil, intensifying the throbbing pain in your jaw and the burning fury in your chest. Unfortunately, you knew in the back of your mind that she would not let up. It was like fighting a losing battle.

Taking a deep breath through your nose, you forced yourself to start chewing the pastry. Its soft, buttery taste mingled with the bitter bile rising in your throat. Each bite felt like a battle against the rising nausea, your jaw moving mechanically as she watched you eat, her eyes never leaving your face. Swallowing became a challenge against the hard lump in your throat, each gulp feeling like conceding defeat.

Lady Dimitrescu's smirk deepened, her eyes glinting in pleasure as you did what you were told. She released her grip on your jaw, and the pain instantly lessened, leaving a lingering soreness in its wake.

“Now, was that so hard?” Lady Dimitrescu asked mockingly.

She turned her attention back to the tray. Her long fingers reached for the glass of water beside her, and you clenched your teeth, resisting the urge to react. Golden eyes peered at you once more, narrowing slightly.

“Do not test my patience, pet. I won't be as nice about it as before.” She warned coolly.

With a resigned sigh, you allowed her to bring the glass to your lips. You took a small, cautious sip, feeling the liquid slide down your throat, soothing your parched mouth but doing little to ease the knot of anxiety in your stomach.

You waited for a moment, preparing for the worst, but nothing came.

Lady Dimitrescu chuckled at your guarded reaction.

For the remainder of breakfast, she took care of feeding you. Despite your initial hesitation, there were no lingering effects from the meal – no signs of drowsiness or disorientation. The food and drink hadn't been drugged, confirming her earlier statement.

Regardless, you still didn’t trust her.

***

Hours passed in a haze.

You were dimly aware of the passage of time, marked only by the shifting light filtering in through the windows and the occasional distant sounds from the staff echoing throughout the castle. Eventually, the light outside the window faded, replaced by the deepening shadows of night.

You stirred slightly, realizing with a growing sense of urgency that you needed to pee. The sensation grew more insistent with each passing second, pushing through the fog of your grogginess and demanding attention. You shifted, attempting to rise, but found your movements sluggish and uncoordinated. The pressure in your bladder grew more uncomfortable, spurring you to try again. As you struggled to sit up, the bedroom spun around you, and a wave of dizziness made you pause, gripping the bed sheets for support. Just then, Lady Dimitrescu appeared by your side, her hand resting on your shoulder as she pushed you back onto the bed gently.

“Ah, ah, dear. You’re not going anywhere.” She tutted.

You gazed up at her and hesitated for a moment, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“I... I need to use the bathroom.” You admitted reluctantly, the words felt like a betrayal of your dignity.

Her lips curled into an amused smile, one eyebrow arching ever so slightly, as if she found your predicament both entertaining and endearing. “Oh? Well, allow me to assist you then.”

The thought of her assisting you in such a vulnerable state filled you with humiliation. You could almost feel her amusement wrapping around you like a tangible presence, making your skin prickle.

“I can manage.” You protested feebly, though even as you spoke, you weren't sure you believed it yourself.

Lady Dimitrescu let out a soft chuckle, the sound rich and warm despite the slightly teasing undertone. “I’m well aware but I meant I’ll help you get to the bathroom.” She clarified, her smile never fading.

“Oh.” You said sheepishly, feeling a flush of embarrassment spread across your cheeks.

Lady Dimitrescu slid her hands underneath your back and legs with surprising gentleness, effortlessly lifting you up as if you weighed nothing at all. Upon entering the bathroom, she set you down on the cool, tiled floor with care. The sensation of the tiles against your skin grounded you in the present moment, though your legs wobbled with residual weakness from the drugs still circulating through your system. Instinctively, you reached out and gripped the nearby toilet tank for support.

Lady Dimitrescu observed you with a faint, amused smile playing on her lips.

“Will you manage?” She inquired.

You nodded in response, the effort feeling more taxing than it should have.

“I’ll be here if you do require help.”

Lady Dimitrescu turned on her heel, her departure marked by the subtle swish of fabric and the resounding click of the door closing. Left alone in the quiet of the bathroom, you gathered your thoughts.

There was something seriously wrong with whatever drugs the Lady had given you. It seemed to linger stubbornly in your system, refusing to dissipate. Everything in your body felt out of sync and unreliable. Even the slightest movement sent a jolt of discomfort through your nerves, like static electricity sparking beneath your skin. The fact that she refused to tell you why she drugged you frustrated you to no end as well. It was a complex puzzle, one that you were determined to solve despite the obstacles in your path.

Letting out a deep sigh, you pulled down your pajama pants and underwear.

Wait.

Since when were you placed in pajamas?

The realization hits you like a disorienting wave. Nausea roiled in your stomach at the thought of being undressed and exposed before the Lady's eyes. With a shaky breath, you tried to recall how you ended up in these clothes, but the memory remained elusive.

You closed your eyes and opened the toilet lid, lowering yourself onto the seat. Each drop felt like a release, a small but tangible sign that you still retained some control over yourself despite everything else going on with your body. With a sense of relief, you stood up slowly and dragged your sleepwear up, feeling the ache in your muscles protesting the movement.

After flushing the toilet, you made your way over to the sink, the floor cool beneath your bare feet. Keeping one hand pressed against the tiled wall for support, you moved slowly, each step a deliberate effort to maintain your balance. Leaning heavily on the sink, you stared at your reflection in the mirror, the image unfamiliar and distant. Lines of exhaustion were etched across your face, and your eyes, once bright, now seemed dulled by fatigue. With a shaky hand, you reached for the faucet, turning it on until the water flowed cold. Droplets splashed into the porcelain basin as you washed your hands methodically. Cupping your hands under the stream, you gathered some water and splashed it over your face, feeling the shock of cold against your skin.

Leaning closer to the mirror, you inspected your reflection once more, noting the way the water droplets clung to your skin like tiny jewels.

The bathroom door swung open just then and you jumped, startled by the sudden intrusion. Lady Dimitrescu entered, her towering figure eclipsing the doorway.

“Are you done?” She asked impatiently.

“Yes, my Lady.” You replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lady Dimitrescu stepped over to you, her heels clicking loudly against the tiled floor, and picked you up by your waist. She exited the bathroom with you in her arms, and you couldn’t help but stiffen as you spotted Bela standing by the edge of the bed, her expression blank.

As Lady Dimitrescu rounded the bed, your heart froze at what you saw.

Resting on the nightstand was a tray meticulously arranged with a few medical instruments. On it was an empty glass vial, a slender needle, and a thin strip of cloth neatly folded. Your mind raced with questions, each one more urgent than the last. You swallowed hard, the dryness in your throat betraying your rising panic.

“What’s going on?” Your voice quivered with anxiety.

For a moment, Lady Dimitrescu remained silent, her gaze holding yours as she laid you back onto the bed. Something unreadable flickered in her eyes. She then turned to her eldest daughter who stood silently by, her posture rigid yet composed, awaiting instruction.

“Make the preparations.”

“Yes, mother.” Bela responded obediently.

She stepped around her mother and picked up the strip of cloth off the tray. Panic surged within you as you watched Bela approach, clutching it in her hand.

“Please, tell me what's going on?” You pleaded, your voice wobbling in fear and confusion.

“Not now, dear.” Lady Dimitrescu dismissed your concern with a wave of her hand, her attention fixed on the task at hand.

Bela moved closer to you, her presence unsettling. She wrapped the thin cloth around your bicep, which you now realized was a makeshift tourniquet. You flinched away involuntarily.

“No! Stop! Why are you doing this to me!?” You protested, your voice rising in desperation.

Lady Dimitrecu glared at you, her eyes narrowing with a dangerous glint. “Pet,” she warned sharply. “Behave.”

You trembled in place, your body betraying your fear despite your attempts to stand firm. Bela stood nearby, arching an unamused eyebrow at you.

“She’s becoming quite mouthy.” Bela remarked, her tone dripping with condescension.

Her gaze swept over you, assessing and judgmental, making you feel like a specimen under a microscope.

Lady Dimitrescu huffed in response, her lips curling into a faint smirk. “She’s been quite feisty since this morning.”

There was a note of amusement in her voice, as if your defiance was a source of mild entertainment for her. However, her smirk quickly faded, replaced by a look of irritation as she regarded you once more.

Bela reached out and grabbed your left arm with a sudden, vice-like grip. Shocked, you instinctively tried to pull away, but before you could even react, Lady Dimitrescu’s massive hand descended upon your chest, a weighty pressure that pinned you firmly in place. Her other hand wrapped around your forearm and kept it still, the strength in her grip unmistakable.

You struggled under her hold, but she didn’t even budge an inch. Your muscles strained and protested, but it was like fighting against a statue. Every attempt to wrench free only resulted in a tighter hold, her strength far surpassing yours. Lady Dimitrescu’s expression remained calm and composed despite your frantic efforts.

“That’s enough, pet,” Lady Dimitrescu’s voice cut through the air, stern and commanding. “You will lie there and cease your foolish struggling.”

Bela stepped forward once more and wrapped the tourniquet around your bicep. The material bit into your skin, creating a tight pressure that made your veins begin to stand out prominently. She turned around momentarily and retrieved something else off the tray. The clinking of metal on metal sent a jolt of fear through you. When she turned back to face you, her eyes bore into yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

Bela raised the needle, its gleaming point coupled with the glass vial attached to its back, and brought it dangerously close to the delicate crease of your elbow. The nearby candlelight lent a sinister glint to the needle's sharp tip, making it appear even more menacing against the dim surroundings. You tried to pull away, but the Lady’s firm grip on your forearm held you in place.

Your breathing quickened as the needle drew closer. Each breath came in shallow, rapid bursts, your chest heaving erratically. The bedroom seemed to shrink around you, your vision tunneling on the approaching needle.

“No…” You whimpered.

The needle now hovered an inch away from your skin, the anticipation almost unbearable.

Bela’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, a fleeting moment of contact that made goosebumps rise across your flesh. Her gaze was cold and calculating, cutting through the haze of fear with razor-sharp precision. Slowly, deliberately, the corners of her lips tugged upward into a cruel smile, revealing a flash of ivory teeth. Then, the needle was inserted into your skin, puncturing through one of your veins with a sharp sting. You winced, the pain a sudden and unwelcome shock that made you suck in a breath. Blood immediately started filling the glass vial, drawn by the vacuum within.

Bela's gaze focused on the vial as the dark red stream spiraled and swirled in a mesmerizing, almost hypnotic quality. As the vial neared its capacity, she removed the tourniquet in a swift, smooth motion. The sudden release of pressure caused a faint prickling sensation to travel up your arm, like tiny sparks igniting under your skin.

Lady Dimitrescu let out a satisfied hum. “Such a vibrant hue.”

Her gaze lingered on the sight of your blood with a fascination that bordered on reverence. Each crimson drop that filled the glass vial seemed to captivate her. There must have been enough blood in the vial as Bela swiftly removed the needle from your arm. The sudden movement caused a small stream of blood to trickle from the puncture wound. It ran down the side of your arm, leaving a warm, sticky trail behind. Both women’s eyes shone brighter at the sight of your blood, their pupils dilating in predatory anticipation.

Time seemed to slow as you felt the weight of Lady Dimitrescu’s gaze settle upon you like a heavy cloak. Despite the elegance in her posture and the refinement in her features, there was an undeniable danger lurking beneath the surface, a reminder of her primal nature that unnerved you.

She released her grip on your forearm just then, her fingers trailing across your skin in a lingering caress that left a burning sensation in their wake. The touch was both tender and possessive.

“We can’t allow such precious essence to go to waste.” Lady Dimitrescu murmured, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper.

She leaned down, her mouth hovering just above the bleeding spot. Her breath, warm and teasing, brushed against your skin, sending a tingling sensation throughout your body. Her eyes bore into yours, dark and intense, holding you captive in a moment that stretched on endlessly.

Then, her tongue darted out, tracing the path of your blood with deliberate slowness. The contrast between the cool, wet touch of her tongue and the warmth of your blood sent a shiver down your spine. Your response caused Lady Dimitrescu to moan; a deep, throaty sound that made your throat go dry. The intensity of the Lady’s reaction was both terrifying and mesmerizing.

Bela's lower lip was caught between her teeth as she observed her mother lap up the blood from your arm, her own desire mirrored in her eyes. Her gaze remained fixed, unwavering, as if she couldn't tear herself away from the sight of your blood.

Lady Dimitrescu finally pulled back once the small amount of blood was licked clean off your arm. She ran her tongue over her lips, a gesture both languid and predatory, savoring the lingering taste.

“You taste absolutely delectable, my dear.” Lady Dimitrescu purred, her voice low and velvety.

Your eyes widened in both astonishment and apprehension, unsure of how to react to the odd compliment.

Bela took a moment to recover from the unexpected sight, her breath catching slightly as she composed herself. Lady Dimitrescu turned slightly to acknowledge her daughter, her expression softening imperceptibly in a rare display of maternal warmth.

“Thank you, Bela. You may go.”

“Of course, mother.” Bela replied breathlessly.

Her gaze briefly met yours before she quickly turned to leave the bedroom, the delicate glass vial full of your blood held securely in her hand. The atmosphere shifted once more as the heavy door closed behind Bela with a resounding thud. Lady Dimitrescu turned her attention back to you.

“You’ve slept throughout most of the day. I suppose you must be hungry.” She said plainly.

The casualness of her tone contrasted sharply with the unease growing inside of you.

Is she seriously going to act like nothing just happened?

You met her gaze, searching for any hint of an explanation, but found none. The answer to why burned within you, a nagging question demanding a resolution.

Taking a deep breath, you blurted out, “Why did you have my blood taken?”

The seconds stretched into an uncomfortable silence as Lady Dimitrescu regarded you with an unreadable look. Her eyes, usually sharp and penetrating, now seemed veiled.

“I have my reasons,” she finally replied. “I’d prefer to have you not know until you’re at a point in which I believe you are ready.”

Her response offered no solace, only adding to the growing sense of dread that coiled within you.

“Ready for what?” You pressed, unable to contain the urgency in your voice.

“Enough questions. It’s time for you to have dinner.” Lady Dimitrescu’s response was curt, dismissive even.

The abrupt change in topic and tone left you reeling. You clenched your teeth, fighting the urge to scream and swear at her. Time was slipping away, each second ticking by like a countdown to an unknown fate. Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you resigned yourself to the current moment.

For now, you’ll comply with her demand while figuring out your next move.

#lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #resident evil village #resident evil fanfic #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #resident evil #resident evil 8

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