#please send me more stuff about classical music... i love it so much but last time i talked about it w someone

[musicallisto]

cym as your favourite pieces of classical music

sorry for taking so long omg? legitimately did not see this ask and the next one😭

you as asturias by isaac albéniz (for piano) (one of my absolute FAVORITE pieces of all time and a dream to play someday)

@retvenkos as el amor brujo: danza del fuego by manuel de falla (p sure i already cast you as this one but !! it still stands)

@permanentreverie as prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune by claude debussy (debussy vibes are off the charts w you tbh)

@eclliipsed as lakmé (flower duet) by léo delibes

@desamoureuses as la moldau by bedřich smetana

@starlit-epiphany as romance in f sharp major by robert schumann

@locke-writes as le carnaval des animaux : aquarium by camille saint-saëns

@margofiore as voices of spring by johann strauss II

@hotgirlsrk as symphony no.40 in g minor by wolfgang amadeus mozart

@its-me-satine as jeux interdits (romance) as narciso yepes (yes thats not classical thats a movie score but idc !!)

@daydreaming-optimist as waltz of the flowers by pyotr ilyich tchaikovsky

[emoticonheart]

Do you have any more hyperburp scenarios? Please I am BEGGING 🙏

i'm not very creative when it comes to these things, but i'll try my best!!

of course, there's the classic hyperburp stuff: earthquakes, shattered glass, cracked floors/walls/ceilings, etc. these all come with the territory, but i still felt like i should at least mention them hahaha

but now onto the more specific stuff

- random one, but someone's cleaning up a room or packing things to move or what have you. there's something on the top shelf that they need to get down but they can't reach it. they're too lazy to get a ladder, so they instead let out a burp powerful enough to shake the item loose, and they catch it before it falls to the floor. kinda a silly idea but that's why i like it so much hahaha

- OBSESSED with burps that overpower things that shouldn't be overpowered. for example, someone in the nosebleeds of a concert. the music is blaring, the bass is pumping, and you can't even hear the person standing next to you unless they're practically screaming directly in your ear. however, right during the most exciting part of the show, someone accidentally lets out a burp so loud that it cuts through all the chaos with perfect clarity, and the band on stage is forced to stop playing because no one can hear them play over the noise.

- also love the... "windy" aspect of hyperburps, for lack of a better word. for example, someone is walking home alone at night when a mugger or something approaches them and tries to attack. as an act of self defense, they let out a burp so powerful that it creates a strong gust of wind, blowing them back on their feet. no matter how hard they try to walk forward, they're immediately pushed back by this burp. eventually, they become so tired that their legs give up, and the burp blows them clear down the street.

- hyperburps don't always have to be about the power, though, they can be about length, too. like someone leaning back after finishing their last plate at a buffet and casually opening their mouth and letting out a semi decent burp. but then it just keeps going. and going. and going. and going and going and going. everyone can't help but stare as the burp continues on, not showing any signs of stopping. this goes on for a solid few minutes, if not more, and the person letting it rip couldn't give less of a fuck because it feels absolutely amazing to get all this air out.

- hyperburp talking... someone letting out an impossibly long burp (like the one described above) but instead of just letting it go uninterrupted, they just. talk through it. and not just a couple words. no, they'll have a full on back and forth conversation all while talking through one simultaneous burp. jesus that... is so hot to me.

anyways, that's all i can think of for now. i hope this is what you were looking for!! if not, please feel free to send another ask!!

and, sorry for the self promo, but if you're looking for stories with hyperburps, i've written a couple!! if you're interested, there's my first impressions series or crashing the party. no pressure though!!

[hellsfirekeepsyouwarm]

hi! I just saw your requests are open and I love your writing and was wondering if you can do something with either ghost or gaz where reader is going to school for their masters in communications while working with the 141 and asks them to read their thesis but instead ghost/gaz makes them take a break/go to bed or something? I've been reworking my thesis from this last semester and I'm losing my mind lol....keep up the amazing writing and thank you so much love!

Here To Serve

Hello love! Thanks for coming my way with this ask because i just needed an excuse to write for Gaz. :D Be prepared to be fall in love with this man, i did. I tried to keep it simple, i hope you'll like it.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Reader

Summary: Gaz finds you glued to you computer, tired an worn out and he takes the matter in his hands.

Uh-oh. It slips out of Kyle's mouth when he stops in front of his flat. He hears the last notes of Rihanna's Umbrella song before some classical takes over, even louder. He can't hear his own keys jingle opening the door, he can hear every instrument from the blasting music, ears already ringing. He can't prepare himself for the sight hat he's about to see.

You are just a small figure on the sofa, completely buried in papers, books and sharpies. And he can't help but chuckle at how lost you look, a manic expression on your troubled face, furiously typing on the keyboard. He's sure if you see him standing there, a smile on his face while you are on the edge of going crazy, you'll bite his head of for being so insensitive. He would watch you longer if the damn music wouldn't rip his brain out.

The room is a mess, and he finds the speaker under another pile of scratched out paper. He just lowers the volume, your head snaps up immediately at the loss of the stimulating background noise.

You look honestly horrifying.

"Oh no. You are home early." You smile, sheepish, almost embarrassed. Your eyes are glossy, makeup smudged over your cheek, messy hair peeking out of his grey hoodie that you are wearing.

You sudden surprise to see him sooner than you thought is quick to dissolve, you start rambling when Gaz sends you that scolding gaze. "Okay, so i had an idea. But that turned out worse than the previous one. So i had to rewrite half of it. But then i realized i may or ma no the original one better, so i..."

"Love.." Gaz puts down the Mexican food he got on his way home, finding his way to you over books and random stuff he wouldn't think about using while preparing for a thesis. Crouching next to you, a soft look easing the tension in your shoulders. "We talked about this."

"But i done it. Seriously." You turn your laptop towards him, to show a folder that was there weeks ago, perfect and ready. "I just need you to read it and tell me what's wrong with it."

Gaz shakes his head with a faint smile. "Oh no, no more of that nonsense. Give it to me."

With that, the computer is out of your reach, his skillful hands stealing it from your iron grip you had on it for hours now. You just now feel your sweaty palms, and an aching back and neck. "No, Kyle, please. I gotta double check if it's okay now."

"You will not do such thing tonight, and if it's up to me, ever." He take the laptop to the other end of the room, saving the folder beforeshutting it down. You want to protest more, but honestly your body is like stone, rooted on the same spot where you sat down in the early afternoon.

He's wearing casual clothes, one of your favorite jacket, that dark brown leather one, his skin is glowing from the wetness of the rain, cologne leaving a scent trail behind. You missed him so much.

You sigh, defeated, you know he won't let you touch anything that is related to your studies.

He walks back to you, your tired eyes searching for comfort in his gaze that he's more than happy to offer with a quick peck on your lips when gets back to you. He brushes the hair out of your face, soft fingertips caressing your skin. He doesn't linger too long, turning to the bag he placed on table, probably finding the only free space on it.

"Hey, where are you going?" You pout, unhappy about his absence in your personal space. He has that calming effect on you, and the loss of it makes your brain tick, circling back to your thesis.

"Uh-uh, do not think about it! I brought food, just gon' grab soda from the fridge and we can dug in, copy?" You nod, starting to arrange the books on the table, pushing everything in a big unstable pile in the middle.

He returns quickly, flashing a wide smile, eyes sparkling with love. You watch him fish out the food from the takeaway bag, the smell of Mexican food hitting your nose. He places mystery food bags in front of, making you wonder what deliciousness is inside them. "There you go, love."

You dive in together, eating in silence, a soft piano and violin duo making some background noise, occasionally letting out some huffs and satisfied hums.

You both watch the other in secret, laughing like teenagers when catching a glimpse of the other staring. Times like this you remember how young you both are, despite the lifes you live. On the field, his youthfulness presents itself as strength in body and mind, in quick reflexes and sharp ideas. At home, he is just a guy, feeding his significant other, making sure they are well rested and cared for. He's an idiot in love.

You inhaled you food while he eats comfortably, no rush in it. So you just memorize this moment, him eating in complete piece, enjoying the flavors, shutting his eyes for a seconds longer, maybe the taste is better that way. You are in awe of how full of life he is, and you would be the happiest person on this earth to keep watching him.

He opens his eyes, the last bite gone too. "Wha?" He's bushing, his accent popping off with the question.

"Nothing." You hold up both your hands, or rather the arms of the hoodie that swallowed your limbs.

Breath caught in his throat every time he sees you in his clothes. Yeah, you wore it ten minutes ago too, when he arrived home, but as your face beams like the rays of sunshine, a stupid smile plastered on your perfect lips, your body hiding under his own clothing, he feels like he's in heaven. His scent hugging your skin, the thought that you are so cozy in his clothes is just intoxicating. Makes his heart skip a beat.

"Come 'ere." That voice, raspy like in the mornings, when hes turned on, or when his emotions strike him at once. He pulls you close to his side, arm hugging you close, securing your body next to his. You snake your limbs over his body, leg hooked in his, arm grabbing his shirt for support.

When you settle, he sighs into your hair, planting small kisses on the crown of your head.

"Thanks for the dinner." You smile, turning our face upwards to meet with his gaze. "And for the distraction."

"Anytime, love. Here to serve." His cheeky smile makes you giggle, oh how madly in love you are with him.

"Hmmm... Well in that case, where the hell is the dessert soldier?" You ask, not able to hide your smile.

"Your dessert is right here, darling." He point at himself, utterly proud of his answer.

You laugh into his mouth, closing that already small distance between your lips, sharing a longing kiss. A kiss you yearn all day.

You break the kiss, trying to be as serious as you can. "But you brought dessert, right?"

He laughs, head thrown back, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "Yeah, i brought dessert."

He kisses you with fiery eyes, tenderly, lovingly, the softest way a man is capable of. That dessert might have to wait a little more.

[reggies-eyeliner]

𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐏𝐒 (CLOSED)!

OPEN 7/14-7/30!!

-> matchups + moodboards + playlists + headcanons! please read all of the rules listed below and pop into my ask box! if you need an idea on what my past matchups look like please check out these links! :DD

THIS IS LIKE A BUFFET. PICK AND CHOOSE WHAT YOU WANT BABES MWAHAHAHA

FANDOMS (up to two*):

across the spider-verse*

most animated movies (httyd, bh6, rotg^^)

lockwood & co*

stranger things

avatar: the last airbender

the legend of korra

rottmnt**

voltron: legendary defenders

* i've only watched the series so far + i'm about to start the comics/books (and very excited to omg) !! just an fyi that my pairings will most likely revolve more around the characters featured in the series IM SORRY I SWEAR I'LL GET TO THE BOOKS/COMICS ASAP

**exclusively platonic matchups preferred/qpr!

* if you are requesting two fandoms, please tell me which one to prioritize more! the first one will be the full-length, but the second will be around a half of the content in the prioritized fandom.

TYPES OF MATCHUPS:

the classic: submit in matchup information + get paired with (a) romantic partner(s)! in return for the matchup information, you will receive: a 1x3 moodboard, one song + a hefty list of headcanons + a mix-and-match randomized trope explanation! (ex: a blurb about sharing a bed, first time meeting, fake dating confession scene ; ~100 words!)

the platonic machup: platonic matchups (my personal fave MWAHAHA)! you'll get paired with as many characters as you'd like<3!! in return for matchup information, you will receive: a 1x3 moodboard, one song + a hefty list of headcanons + incorrect quotes describing your dynamic between you and your found family/best bro<3

customized schedule: submit what your schedule looks like throughout any day of the week (up to two) + matchup information (platonic or romantic), you will receive: an hourly schedule on what life is like with said character i match you with + the aspects of your life with them! (ex: 8am, wake up by their side + they make you coffee blah blah blah), + a song for each moment of the day to describe your dynamic :D

MATCHUP INFORMATION:

name + preferred gender(s) to be paired with + preferred age group(s)

preferred fandom (up to two are okay, but please let me know which one you'd like me to focus on more!)

platonic and/or romantic + polycule preference etc + preferred age group!!

you can include your sexuality if you'd like to (only if you want me to touch on the aspect on how your matchup will support you because. yeah<3)

giving + receiving love languages

hobbies, talents, things that make you you (think: if this wasn't in my life, how different would i be?)

mbti/zodiac (optional)

personality, how you handle difficult situations

what consist of a good memory for you

favorite songs + music taste/colors/any kind of aesthetics!!

anything that brings you comfort/anything that doesn't give you comfort (can be about a relationship or just in life :-D)

OTHER RULES?

preferably off anon! i'd love to talk to you more after the matchup submission as well MWAHHAHA<333 if you're planning on being anon, an emoji anon would be p cool so we can chat more!

as i'm also a busy student, i will prioritize school-- if you submit a matchup, please be prepared to have up to anywhere from a 1-14 day wait! i'll send you a message that i got your ask hehe

i will also be mostly inactive writing-wise from 7/18-7/23 as i will be on a trip, so please keep that in mind!

you should totally use a pick up line in my ask box i enjoy pick up lines so much. or one of those "less than one minute" videos on youtube those are the best man

please know that i absolutely love writing and talking to people, but i also have my own limits to what i can/cannot do for people! if you send nsfw content, pedophilia, violence, gore, heavy vents, all that not-so-great-stuff or an ask comes off as rude or demanding, i have all rights to avoid doing it and dismiss it without any warning. ASJCHS JUST be a decent human being in short that's all i'm asking RAHHH

OTHER THAN THAT MAN write as much/little as you'd like!!

#send a request here! :D

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

You're soo sweet thank you so much!! I'll fix some errors and send the angst drabble. Still on the topic of scenes but everytime he says something in a angry tone?? Omfg like imagine you're teasing him and he just raises an eyebrow and says "What's that now?" in THAT tone? WEAK 😩

More Tang “my girl is mad at me I hope I die” erine headcanons

Ok ok but sharing a playlist with tan? Feel like he doesn't listen to music that much so you'll be the one adding most of the songs. At first he'll look like he doesn't really care for it, but when it's only him and lem on a mission, he will pop in one of his earphones and play it while thinking of you and smiling at the silly songs you added. (If you have any songs that remind you of him, please do share!)

This man has no shame doing small things for you. You two are out together and you need to use the toilet? He WILL hold you bag, puts it over his shoulder and all.

Love the 'you’d be best friends as well as a couple' idea. Feel like you'd also gossip about people and stuff (I mean, with a mouth like his, he'll adding so many unnecessary comments just to make you laugh).

I'm sure he keeps a photo of you in his wallet or in his suit. You're on his homescreen too? It'll be a photo he managed to take while you were laughing at a candlelit dinner he took you to.

I don't want to sound like a broken record but I'm so happy I get to write and share my headcanons about this silly brit man I love. Thank you!!  💗 💺 anon

1. ahhh you’re so sweet, thank you honey💓 and YES!!! love LOVE angry tan, or snarky or cold talking tan. what’s that now is just 😩🫠😩 good lord

2. heheheheaaahhh

3. omg shut up I love it!!!! and you know, ive never really thought of it, I kinda feel like oasis, possibly arctic monkeys kinda vibe, but not them. like kinda old (not really) english bands. but I do have a feeling he possibly dabbles in classical music from time to time, he’s got that rich man money vibe as well as the hard cockey lad vibe. the dude is multifaceted, so I think his music is the same. gonna say this now, I feel like he hates jazz

4. YES!! he’s not ashamed to hold your bag, like he would hold it normally, not like holding away from him making it clear it’s not his. hes like yeah it’s my girls bag what about it rather than, this is not my bag, im making it clear this is hers. especially if you go shopping, he’s holding the bags (and paying for it too hehe)

5. omg yes I love it!! I feel like he lets you talk and get things off your chest, but every now and then he’ll add something and back you up. I think I said this in my hc’s, but I like to believe he secretly loves watching ‘girly’ movies with you. he pretends he hates it, but if you put on clueless or she’s the man, he’s sitting down and watching it. or like “really, again?” you’re like “yeah, so? … you’re hovering, just sit down” and he doesn’t say anything, staring at the screen and silently taking a seat next to you HWHEHWH

6. ARGHHH OMG yes!! not to get all sad, but he has a picture of you in an accessible place (in case he yk dies, so it’s the last thing he sees🥲) feel like he has an album on his phone of you and dates and places you’ve been to

7. you’re so cute, and it’s really no problem. you have such great ideas and thank you for sharing them 💗

[explosionshark]

hi! what would u say are starter metal bands/albums/songs for people who have never listened to metal? i'm interested in exploring new genres but i know NOTHING about metal and you seem to know quite a lot!

See I love trying to answer this question but it's honestly a little tricky! The thing that makes metal so great imo is the fact that there's a billion subgenres. But that's also what makes it hard to find the right recommendation for someone off the top of your head! I might send you a metalcore song that does nothing for you, but if I had gone with like. Stoner metal or something you'd have found your niche.

That said I recently made a playlist for a friend asking me the same question. I tried to throw in an array of different styles. Check it out if you have Spotify! Feel free to skip when a song isn't working - there might be something you like more further on

Aside from that, click below for a couple of recommendations for stuff I find to be more accessible/appealing to a broad audience

Sleep Token - here's an alt metal band that's really blowing up right now! They're about to release their third LP. I'd suggest checking out a few of the singles they've already put out for it. This band has been great for attracting new folks to metal: they play with a lot of different genres and while they certainly have heavy moments, I feel like their pop-friendly approach makes them a good band to on board people to the genre.

Invent Animate - this is a metalcore band that also just put out an early contender for Album of the Year imo. There's a mix of harsh and clean vocals, a very atmospheric sound throughout, and a good mix of technically impressive instrumentation and strong hooks. If you like this sound I'd suggest checking out other bands like Spiritbox and Bad Omens.

Lacuna Coil - hey, do you like Evanescence? Do you like beautiful women with incredible singing voices? This band might be for you. I'd recommend their 2002 record Comalies to start, or you can check out their most recent album as well. If you like this sound, you might be interested in checking out bands like Epica or Ad Infinitum next!

Iron Maiden/Judas Priest - interested in a more classic sound? Maiden and Priest were two titans of an era called NWOBHM (the New Wave of British Heavy Metal) - characterized by fast, aggressive music and clean vocals that tend to be on the higher end. I'd highly recommend Number of the Beast for Maiden or Screaming for Vengeance if you want to get into Priest. If you're looking for contemporary bands playing with a similar sound, I'd suggest Sumerlands or Sonja, who both had excellent records last year.

Nu Metal/Alt Metal - sometimes it can be tricky to talk about these genres because people get very passionate and nitpicky about the terms. But generally speaking if you like the sounds that dominated the metal/hard rock charts around the turn of the century you might like the following bands: Kittie, Slipknot, Tallah, Nova Twins

Post-hardcore/metalcore - more into that MCR-ish emo sound? Try Static Dress or If I Die First! Not super heavy, but still with an edge. These are young bands who are again playing in a very 00s space.

Deftones - here's a band that I find pretty accessible! There's definitely a heaviness, but there's also a strong shoegaze influence that creates an opportunity for some really beautiful songs. This band has been active since the 90s, huge catalog of great albums. Start with White Pony. There are a lot of bands right now who are very influenced by Deftones - if you like this band check out Loathe or Moodring next

Stoner/Doom - we're talking about big fuzzy riffs here! Slow/mid-tempo songs usually with a longer song length than more punk-influenced subgenres. Try bands like Windhand, Faetooth, Red Fang, or King Woman

No Harsh Vocals Please - okay, like heavy sounds but don't like the screaming? Check out these bands: Katatonia, Evergrey, Unleash the Archers

There's so much more I could get into but I need to stop eventually. I hope you find something you like somewhere in these recommendations! If you do, feel free to come back to me with what worked for you and I can offer more suggestions along that line.

Happy listening 🤘

[dutchwinter]

MUSIC ASK GAMEEE i send multiple... for artist, thursday.. for album, past lives.. and for song, king of swords (reversed) by the dear hunter :) mwah (- ry funeralend)

well of course im familiar with thursday...

Favourite Song: turnpike divides. where would i be without this fucking song i swear. tomorrow ill be u is number 2 though

Least Favourite Song: uh idk man. we will overcome? i just never really was into it.. i dont hate it though!!!!!

Favourite Album: no devolucion... the only thursday album i dont own on cd LMFAO.

Least Favourite Album: a city by the light divided BUT I LOVE THIS ALBUM SO MUCH PLEASE PLEASE they dont have an album i dislike at ALL

Song that got me into them: my first song was jet black new year and i was like ouughughu okay.. okayy... this is gonna be forever now. then i listened to 4 more and i was like okay im in it. [those 4 being paris in flames, tomorrow ill be you, turnpike divides, and signals over the air]

Seen Live?: nooooo AUGUGUHGUH last tour when they were with cursive and anthony they came near on december 5... which is a day after my birthday and was absolutely doable... i will never forgive myself for not going i swear.. ive told this story MANY times but ill tell it again because UAGUH biggest regret ever

Rate: to ask me this is to. idk. if 10s the highest then 10 fr.

past lives my absolute beloved only album in existence. ever

Opinion on cover design: classic unforgettable etc etc [its been out since november] i love it. its so simple but can be so recognizable if you know it. easy to remember. memorable. helll yeah

Favourite song: 2022. forever and ever

Least favourite song: idk like forever?? but that song is my everything. so i cant pick really. i guess its just my least listened??

Underrated track: bombsquad JUSTICE FOR BOMBSQUAD. and antibodies. no one talks about antibodies.

Overrated track: i dont really know but i guess grey veins. its very loved but its kind of easy to get tired of because of howw muchh it repeats the chorus. this makes it sound like i dont like this song but i dont even a little like i still love it with all my heart.

Rate: literally 10 like?? what elese am i supposed to say.

i have never heard anything by the dear hunter but honestly have been meaning to bc of u... lets see this..

okayy this is so fun. i wonder what their other stuff sounds like... interesting so interesting..

i clicked on the first thing that came up after searching 'the dear hunter' on youtube and yeagghh this is good ill have to get into this

fuck the ask games rating system. i really liked this but i usually dont loooove songs the first time i hear them so ill have to re listen to see how i truly feel. its def stuck in my head rn even if dont really remember that much of it.

mwah mwah mwah

BIG MUSIC ASK GAME

[eggs-machiavellian]

A somewhat new Simblr!

Long-time listener, first-time caller. (Kinda.)

I've been bumbling around on Tumblr for a bit trying but I figured it was time I make a proper introduction post.

I'm 30ish, started playing Sims around the time the first one came out. I love these stupid pixel dolls so much. I am entirely too into custom content.

On this blog you can expect CAS challenges, possibly lookbooks and a bit of gameplay if I can ever stick to a legacy!

I am super friendly, super nerdy and super clutzy. Please feel free to message, comment, send an ask etc whenever. I adore meeting new people and would be so stoked to find some mutuals. I've never really been embedded enough in an online community to have many (or even any).

Because I'm kinda old for Tumblr (shock horror 30s!), my blog is 18+. I always try to make sure anyone I follow is over that age as well.

Thanks for reading, and I hope to chat with you guys soon! My inbox is always open.

(This post got way too long, so I've put some non-essential info under the cut!)

More about me:

🐱 I am a cat person (I have four).

🎲 I love playing and watching D&D (especially Critical Role).

🎮 I'm huge into gaming in general (PC, PS4, Switch – some faves are The Last of Us, Horizon, God of War, Sunless Sea, Divinity Original Sin 2, Kentucky Route Zero). I pretty much just post about TS4 though.

📚 I'm a classic literature nerd, although I love contemporary books too. The last few years I've gotten really into audiobooks.

🎶 I think the theatre is a magical place. I love musical theatre, especially.

🧠 I'm hugely passionate about psychology. I hope to make a career change to clinical psych one day. I just think brains are neat and weird and there's so much to learn, and I've been through a lot of bad mental health myself so getting to help others the way I've been helped by therapy before would be amazing.

So basically that's me. Thanks for reading the extra stuff if you did!

– M

[mxvladdy]

What do you think would happen if MC (in an attempt to keep it away from him) tucked Goldie under their boob?

[A bra is the best wallet but underneath even a C-cup boob is damn near Fort Knox (or the tower of London, I.e. Impenatrable fortresses)]

lmaooo. Let’s us gather round and pray for Mammon’s remaining sanity. What little remands. The himbo never saw it coming. I’m weak and got a little spicy at the end, apologies if that’s not what you wanted my heart was thirsty for ONE greed man;.;

  A/N I originally called this work Tiity prison bc I have a sense of humor lol.

Hope ya like!

To say he is conflicted is an understatement. Depending on when and where you do the titty lockdown will change how he reacts.

If it's at school, he is a mess. I’m talking about the works. He’s red in the face, can’t focus, and sweating the whole rest of the school day. He is definitely torn between fighting his goldie withdrawals and making a pass at your chest.

He won’t do the latter, as much as he threatens it. He may be scummy but he has a code of conduct (most of the time). You get a kick out of watching him try not to stare at your chest and getting smacked by Lucifer when caught.

If it’s on Lucifer’s orders to keep his card away from him he’ll have a bit more control but will bitch the WHOLE day. Honestly, you might give it back just to shut him up.

He won’t outright grab your chest or physically try to snatch it. He’ll try to be sneaky about it. Dropping stuff and making you bend over to grab it. “I swear I ain’t try nothin’”. Right.

If desperate enough he’ll just downright pick you up off your feet and jiggle you like a piggy bank. Like I said, he has a code of conduct. It’s just kinda flexible sometimes.

“C-come on! Give ‘er back.” Mammon pleads, pulling off his classic bagger’s pout. Good thing you were immune. His toned arms cage you in, your back resting on one of the school’s marble walls. “How am I going to buy lunch?”

“I made you lunch.” You laugh. Ducking under his arms you make your way to the dining hall ignoring his flustered shouts. He’ll follow soon enough. The promise of your cooking and potentially nabbing goldie back was too great for him to ignore. Sure enough, he slinks in a few minutes after you. His shades now out and perched on his nose. Even hidden under the tinted glasses, you could see his flushed cheeks and darting eyes. “Better eat now, Beel is going to join us today.” You say around a mouthful of food. He whines but forces himself to focus on his quickly cooling food.

He follows you even closer than before after lunch, barely a hair’s breadth from your back. His clever fingers pinching and pulling at the bottom of your shirt in the crowded hallway. “Please~” He whimpers through his teeth after your swat his hands away again. “I swear I won’t use her.”

You plop down at your desk. “If you’re not going to use her, then she is safe where she is.” You stick your tongue out and give the boob hiding goldie a lovely squeeze. Mammon groans as if stabbed, teeth bared and fangs growing in a mix of frustration and want. “Babe come on. Ya’ killing me.” His eyes are glued to where your hand rests.

Before you can respond a leather-clad hand smacks Mammon across the back of his head. Mammon yips in fright. “I will kill you first if you don’t keep your eyes up at the board.” The cold warning from Lucifer was enough to shut you both up for the rest of the class. You watch him disappear when the bell chimes. His next period was across campus while you were stuck here for another hour. Your phone buzzes the moment his designer boots disappear out the door.

Pretty Boy: what did you do to Mammon?

You: I have no idea what you’re talking about.

You catch Asmo’s eye from his seat a few rows back from you. He winks at you, thumbs flying across his lit screen.

Pretty Boy: Bull- tell me your secrets. I haven’t seen him that flustered in eons, not since Helen paid a visit.

You: Got “asked” by Lucifer to keep Goldie away from Mammon for the day. A limited edition car he wants just got released. Luci is still paying off Mammon’s last shopping spree, so he’s on ice till tomorrow afternoon.

Pretty Boy: Ouch- you not telling him where it is?

You: Oh no. He knows exactly where it is. He is just too nervous to go for it.

You hear Asmo’s scandalous gasp behind you earning you both a glare from the professor. You bite your tongue to hide a chuckle. The professor turns with a huff, and Asmo starts up all over again.

Pretty Boy: Is it in your pants! Can I take a look ;*

You: No and No.

Pretty Boy: Ah- he was always a chest man. Good luck with that, he can hold out for only so long :)

What does that mean? You whip your head around waiting for an explanation text. Asmo has the gall to ignore you, busy reapplying his lip gloss. Even if he wasn’t looking at you, you knew that impish smile was for you. Turning back around in your seat you shiver, now you weren’t sure if you should be scared or excited.

The rest of the day passes quietly. Too quietly. It gives you the jitters. Every corner of the school could be a potential hiding spot for one conniving demon. You weren’t expecting him to attack you, not outright. Yet, you were expecting some sort of retaliation. The last bell of the day came sooner than you expected and it was time for afterschool activities. Packing your bag you wave off Beel and Satan, assuring them you would be fine to walk to the music and arts wing by yourself.  They had their own clubs to get to anyway.

Making your way to your activity you feel the hair on the back of your neck began to rise. Something wasn’t sitting right with you. You look up and around. No one was in the corridors, not even a stray teacher rushing to the breakroom. Odd. You peak over your shoulder and frown. Even the air was still. Chalking it up to a probably very haunted school, you pick up the pace. Even if you didn’t believe in the ghost stories like Luke, it was best to just never find out. No matter what hallway you took or how fast you walked the feeling of being watched only intensified. Your flight or fight instinct kicked in.

Who could you call if you need help? Where in the hells was Mam- was that your pencil case? You skid to a halt bemused. There, in the middle of the floor was your favorite case. The calico kitty design stares up at you innocently from the floor. You open your bag to double-check. You could have sworn you had thrown it in there after last period. Did it fall out? Had you taken this path before? You approached it cautiously, bending down to grab it.

Strong arms wrap around your waist locking around you like a spring trap. They lift you up and up and up. It was so sudden you could do nothing but squeak in surprise, pencil case clutched tightly to your chest. Were you really going to die here? Caught in such a childish trap...wait.  “Seriously Mammon!” The fear disappears, replaced now with exasperation. He grunts ignoring your words to shake you slightly. You yelp feeling goldie and your bra shift. “Oh, my Gods. Mammon! I know you can do better than this.”

“Shut up! I’m desperate.”

Unbelievable. "That's the best you got? Really, I’m kinda insulted." Mammon stops shaking you, his arms loosening enough for you to turn around to face him. He looks up at you batting his long lashes. “Put me down.” It wasn’t a pact order, but firm. He pouts but sets you back on the ground gently. Not before giving you a hearty squeeze. You catch his hand sneaking up the side of your shirt with a raised brow. "Why didn't you just make a grab for it in the first place?"

He scoffs turning pink. "'M allowed ta just cop a feel whenever I want now?"

"Absolutely not, not in public at least. I like you breathing."

“Could have fooled me,” Mammon chuckles. He glances around the empty hallway then back to you. A slow rolling purr starts deep in his throat. "Though, there is no one here now." Slowly his dexterous fingers glide back over your sides. His touch is searing on your shirt. You could feel goldie pulsing underneath the cotton of your bra. The plastic seemingly growing warmer than your skin as his hand travels closer. You do nothing, watching his face grow hungrier with each passing centimeter as he gets close to his prize. “What’s stopping me now?”

“Just you.” He stops at the side of your chest, eye wide and greedy. You could feel him trying to temper himself. His adrenaline, fear, lust, and his raw cardinal desire thicking the air around you. It all pulsed red hot in his veins and travels down to yours. He wanted more than just goldie now. His natural magnetism pulling you in closer. You wanted him, you wanted him to just take it- take everything. The pact mark slams shut, its heat snuffed out like a candle. "Mammon?" Had your teasing gone too far?

"Hold tight to her till tonight." He growls tapping your chest possessively. His many gold rings resemble talons as he drags his fingers across the stitching of your school uniform. "I'll come for her tonight," He leans in, smoke and leather clouds your sense. "and I'll be taking a tithe for all the trouble you caused me too." His husky promise sends a shiver down your spine, gut twisting in anticipation. Mammon's bright blue eyes jump over your shoulder, a frown grows on his beautiful face, he could hear footsteps approaching from your club room. Probably the angels looking for you. Brushing his lips across your cheek he parts, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Be ready. You know I always come to collect."

[somewhatgreatexpectations]

Unforgettable (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader)

Hello, everyone!

Songs used: "Unforgettable" By Nat King Cole (1952)

Summary: Wanda is forced to delve into her past as you deal with some unexpected obstacles trying to get back to her.

“I know, she does look shocked to meet the real us, doesn’t she?” Agnes- Agatha said to her rabbit with a laugh. Wanda couldn’t help but feel frustration creep under her skin at the air of indifference Agatha was speaking in. It was clear she couldn’t trust a word that came out of the other woman’s mouth, so she decided to take matters in her own. She would just look into the other woman’s mind to get answers. The perks of having powers.

Except… Nothing.

Rather than being able to see into the other woman’s mind she was met with a wall. Even in the early stages of having her powers this had never happened and Wanda couldn’t help but feel unnerved. “Oh, that’s adorable.” Agatha laughed. “My thoughts are not available to you, toots. They never were. So, don’t wear yourself out. It’s a waste of time. We have much more… pressing matters to tend to.”

Wanda clenched her jaw, refusing to play into the game Agatha clearly wanted her to play. “Where are my children?” Her blood boiled when Agatha mockingly repeated her question back to her.

Again, Agatha laughed. “Do you have an accent or not, sweetheart? Make up your mind.”

“Where are they?” Wanda repeated, flexing her hands to manipulate her powers only to be met with the same resistance from before. Her blood ran cold. This had never happened.

A chilling smile crossed Agatha’s features. “Aww. Sweetheart. Don’t you know? Your magic is useless here. Much like yourself.” Before Wanda could even consider reacting Agatha flicked her wrist and Wanda felt her arms get pinned tightly behind her back along with her legs as she flew forward. The invisible vice like grip tightening as Agatha flexed her fingers. Wanda groaned in discomfort.

Agatha began speaking again but Wanda could barely process the words as she panted in pain. “Basic protection spells. Honestly, how dim are you?” Wanda finally allowed herself to look around the room, taking in the strange markings that littered the wall. “These are runes, Wanda. In a given space, only the witch that cast the runes can use her magic. Do you know anything?”

“Who are you?” Wanda demanded.

“Who are you?” Agatha countered. “I was so patient. Playing along with your twisted little fantasy. Waiting for you to reveal yourself.” She smirked. “I will admit, sending fake Anna and fake Pietro seemed to push your buttons. I thought Amelia- sorry, Ellie, would have sent you over the edge but you didn’t seem to care if your wife mingled with someone else. Just like I’m sure she’s doing now.”

Wanda’s jaw clenched tightly as she pulled at the invisible restraints. “Leave Y/n out of this.”

It was clear Agatha was amused by Wanda's anger. “Oh, sweetheart. How could I do that when she’s the easiest way to get to you? And Amelia was more than willing to be an active participant in all of this to get Y/n back.”

In response Wanda leveled Agatha with a hard stare, not giving her the satisfaction. “The silent treatment? Oh, well. Guess I’ll have to talk to myself.” Agatha mockingly pouted. “When I sensed such powerful spells cast all at once… I knew I had to see it for myself. Mind control is a classic… But having thousands of people under your thumb, each with their own complex stories? That’s something special, baby.”

“I spent years practicing to be able to create one believable illusion, but you, Wanda… Westview under your spell? Every little detail is in place. You’re even running illusions all the way at the edge of town! Magic on autopilot.” Agatha pushed a hand through her hair, her eyes deranged. “What’s your secret? I need you to tell me how you did this.”

Wanda’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t do anything. I’m not-” Before she could finish, Agatha flicked her hand and Wanda was sent crashing into the walls on either side of her. Grunts of pain falling from her lips before Agatha stopped her directly in front of herself once again.

“I tried to be gentle, I did. To wake you up from this stupid little fantasy you have but it’s clear you’d rather fall apart than face your issues, little witch. You left me no choice.” Agatha stepped closer to Wanda. “What was it you said to your fake brother? You felt empty. Like you were drowning. Endless nothingness… Let’s start there.”

Wanda wordlessly watched the woman pluck a hair from her hair and chant words she didn’t understand under her breath. The strand glowing purple as it floated over to the door.

“It’s been fun playing pretend, Wanda… But now it’s time to look at the real thing.” Agatha whispered menacingly. “Let’s go.”

Agatha waved her hand and Wanda went crashing to the floor. “No.” She gritted out, her eyes locked on Agatha, refusing to look at the familiar door. She knew what would await behind that door.

“Did you forget that I have your children lock in this basement? It wasn’t a request.”

Before Wanda could respond she could hear the voices of Billy and Charlie call out to her behind the door and she knew she had no other choice but to enter.

______________

As you were flying lower to the ground your eyes caught the sigh of someone waving their arms noticeably. You needed to get to Wanda though. You needed to see her. To tell her you were sorry. That you were there for her… That you loved her.

Begrudgingly you flew down, you would just check if this person was okay before getting to Wanda.

When your feet touched ground, you were practically knocked over by Ellie leaping into your arms. “Y/n! You have to help me!” She cried desperately, tears streaming rapidly down her cheeks.

The sight overwhelmed you as you tried to maintain your composure. “Ellie, what’s wrong?” You asked cautiously, placing your hands on her shoulders to hold her back.

“My names not Ellie. It’s me, Y/n. Amelia.” She grabbed your hands and tugged you forward slightly. “Wanda is trying to keep us apart.”

You stumbled back with her words, not expecting it. “No. I don’t know who you are, but I know Wanda. I know I love her and that I’ve always loved her. I’ve seen it in my mind.”

Almost immediately the tears stopped in their tracks. Ellie- Amelia stared you down. The sight sent a chill down your spine as your fingers began tingling with energy. “Oh, Y/n, sweetheart. That’s just not true.” You noticed she began playing with a small device in her hands. “Maybe you just need a little… encouragement.”

Your fingers sparked with nervous energy, as a pit began forming in your stomach. “What do you mean?”

Before she could reply, Anna and Pietro strolled up. “There’s something about music that messes with her head.” Anna said flippantly, as she picked at her nails. “Try that.”

Pietro smirked. “If that doesn’t work I can help you out with that little device you have there, hot stuff.” He added with a wink to Amelia.

Amelia tilted her head thoughtfully. “That won’t be necessary. Agatha taught me a little trick.”

With a small wave of her hand, a purple fog drifted from her fingers and disappeared into your mind.

“Hello, beautiful.” You looked up from your place on the floor of the training room, smiling slightly when you saw it was Amelia.

“Hi, doll.” You replied back, the term of endearment tasting bitter on your tongue. It felt out of place. You tried to ignore it. This was your girlfriend now after all.“Here to get schooled in some hand-to-hand combat?”

A laugh fell from her lips. “Oh, please. I could take you any day, Y/ln.”

You smirked up at her. “That’s cute that you think that. My mentor is Steve Rogers. I trained with Natasha Romanoff almost daily. Captain America and Black Widow. My skill levels are unmatched.” You said easily as you brushed imaginary dirt off your shoulders.

“Yeah, yeah. We get it. You were an Avenger. Blah, blah, blah. That’s really not as impressive as you th-” Amelia squealed slightly as you swept her legs out from under her, pining her almost immediately.

With a grin, you looked down at her. “You were saying?”

You noticed the way her gaze fell to your lips and you couldn’t help but smirk again. Before you could do anything, she flipped you over, pining your hands above your head. “I was saying, I would’ve thought Black Widow taught you better than that.”

Her grip on your wrists loosened slightly as you tugged her down. Your lips meeting in a kiss.

Blinking rapidly, you shook away the fog in your mind as you refocused on the world around you. “Do you see now?” Amelia called out to you. “It wasn’t Wanda. It was me you were with.”

All the pieces of memories you had seen the last few days flashed in your mind. The love you had for Wanda flashed in your mind. There would never be anyone else. “No, Amelia. I’m sorry, but it’s her-”

“-it’s always been her. I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything sooner, but I don’t want to hurt you anymore than I already have.” You winced at the tears that seemed to be forming in Amelia’s eyes. “I can’t love you when I have no room in my heart for someone else. Even if Wanda and I can’t be together. Even if I can’t forgive her.”

Your eyes widened at the memory that it seemed you were able to recall on your own. “I told you I was in love with Wanda. Why are you doing this?”

Amelia gritted her teeth. “Because Wanda didn’t deserve you, Y/n. I did. When Agatha approached me and told me this was a guaranteed way to win you back I knew I had to do it.”

You shook your head. “I'm never going to love you back, Amelia. I need to get to Wanda.”

“Ralph, now.” Amelia told Pietro, tossing him the small device. He caught it and sped over to you.

You felt the small prick against the back of your neck and then everything went dark.

__________________

The trauma of having to relieve losing her parents and experiencing the effects of the mind stone again weighed heavily on her. The pain was all fresh and Wanda wasn't sure she could take anymore.

Then she saw the familiar sight of elevator doors.

For a moment Wanda was sure her legs would give out underneath her. She knew that behind this door was peace. The peace she wanted her mind to remain in forever that didn't exist anymore.

The simplicity that was behind that door didn't exist anymore but it was something she longed to see.

Agatha made a quiet noise of surprise as Wanda moved forward on her own, rather than reluctantly as she had before.

The doors slid open as Wanda felt the cool breeze blow through her hair. The imagine of her younger self sat looking out at the city before her. “So, where are we now?”

“The roof of the Avengers compound.” Wanda said quietly. “It’s where Y/n and I fell in love. No matter how hard I tried to shut her out, she never gave up. Pietro was dead, and I was in a new country. I had never felt so alone… She saved me from drowning.”

Wanda’s heart thudded painfully in her chest she saw the younger version of herself open her mouth to speak. She knew what was coming next. “Y/n.”

You stepped in between Agatha and Wanda a small smile on your face as the younger version of herself never looked away from you.

Wanda’s breath hitched because looking back at it now, it was clear she had always been in love with you.

“Um, hi.” You began, bashfully rubbing the back of your neck. “I wanted fresh air and it’s such a nice day out and it looked like you could use company. I mean, not that you have to have company if you don't want it. I can go if you want or I can just sit here with you and-”

Wanda couldn’t help but laugh slightly as she interrupted you. “Y/n. You’re rambling.”

Your cheeks flushed, and the current Wanda couldn’t help but smile adoringly at the sight. Of how oblivious you both were. “Right. Sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

The young version of herself never let her eyes leave yours. A stark contrast from the girl who couldn’t even look at you for more than a minute when you first met. “You don’t?”

The redness on your cheeks darkened. “Well…” You winced. “I guess I did since I knew you’d probably be here and I just-”

“I like being around you.” Wanda whispered at the same time you said the words.

“Even if we don’t talk most of the time.” You finished shyly.

Her eyes shone slightly under the fading light. “What are your intentions now?”

You shifted slightly from foot to foot. “I think my intentions would be whatever you prefer.”

Wordlessly she pat the space next to her. You smiled as you took a seat next to her, looking out over the skyline, your shoulders brushing. “Wanda, I…” She tilted her head to look at you. “I don’t want to pretend I know exactly what you’re going through because we all fight battles that no one knows about… But if you ever need to talk or just have someone around I’m here for you. If that would give you even just a little comfort.”

Wanda’s eyes flashed with controlled annoyance. “What makes you think that talking about it would give me comfort?” You stayed quiet. “Or sitting here with you?”

Wanda flinched at the tone her past self used and watched the way you began spinning the rings on your fingers anxiously. You were nervous, she could see that now.

She wanted to yell at herself for all the time she spent pushing you away when she should have been pulling you closer.

“I just thought that-”

“The only thing that would bring me comfort is seeing him again.” Wanda cut you off sharply, her eyes shining with unshed tears and her voice thick with emotion.

Wanda could see the understanding in your eyes. You knew exactly what she was going through, and she had no idea at the time.

You nodded faintly, shifting your gaze back to the skyline. “Sorry.” You said quietly. You pulled out your phone to play music, the default to being around Wanda. A silent support.

“Never before has someone been more… Unforgettable. In every way, and forever more that’s how you’ll stay.”

The music made tears well up in Wanda’s eyes because this was the first song you had played that she had allowed herself to actually listen to. The silent messages you were sending her. The walls you were breaking without even realizing it.

“I’m sorry.” She eventually mumbled.

You turned to face her, your brows furrowed in concern. “Don’t be. It’s fine, Wanda.”

A pained smile spread across her lips. “It’s just… I’m so tired.” She inhaled sharply and the glistening in her eyes became more apparent. “It’s like this wave washing over me, again and again. It knocks me down and when I try to stand up, it just comes for me again. And I… It’s just gonna drown me.”

The defeat in her voice made your heart clench as you fought the urge to hold her, to take her hand. “It may feel like it’s all sorrow right now, but there’s more.” You said quietly. Wanda’s stared back at you with curiosity. “The pain you’re in is a telltale sign of the love you gave. Of the unwavering strength of your love… because what is grief is not love persevering?” For a moment you just stared at one another.

The abrupt sound of a loud ad startled you both as you jumped. A laugh fell from your lips because of the terrible timing. “I really should start paying for ad free. Sorry.” You smiled at her nervously.

The surprise on your face was obvious when she smiled back at you. “No, it was funny.” She replied with a chuckle.

You made a face. “It is kind of funny that an Avenger can’t afford ad free music, isn’t it?”

“Mhm.” Wanda hummed, her eyes twinkling in amusement.

The sound of her laughter faded as you both stared at one another, the intensity of emotions left unspoken making the air heavy with tension. Eventually you both turned your gaze back to the skyline, your shoulders still brushing.

A single tear fell down Wanda’s cheeks as she stepped further onto the roof, the image of you both faded away as she looked around.

“So, to recap… Parents dead, brother dead, Y/n pretty much dead.” Wanda’s face crumpled in pain as the tears fell down her cheeks more steadily. Agatha continued on. “What happened when she wasn’t there to be your life raft anymore, Wanda?”

Wanda roughly wiped away the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“You’re right there! Tell me how you did it.” Wanda’s chest heaved with the weight of the emotions. “They tried to take Y/n, but you weren’t going to let that happen.”

Wanda’s eyes widened slightly as she thought back to the moment. “I wasn’t going to let that happen.” She repeated as she marched through the familiar door.

Anxiously she watched herself find your empty room, she watched the panic in her every move, she watched Hayward talk about you like you were nothing.

Her heart broke all over again as she watched herself hover over your practically lifeless body.

“I can’t feel you.” She whispered brokenly, the pain in her chest overcoming her. The sensation composing her entire being as everything within her collapsed. She was alone, and she knew she wouldn’t recover.

Her eyes glowed red as she waved a hand, all of the doctors in the room turning away from your body on her command. Hayward turning away as well before he could even react.

Carefully she made her way over to you and took you in her arms, her hands glowing as she carried you away through a back entrance where no one would see her leave.

Cautiously, she placed you in the passenger seat of her car and began driving. Her heart thudding heavily with each passing moment that you didn't wake up. The only thing that brought her a small semblance of comfort was the sight of your chest still weakly rising and falling with each breath.

After an hour or so of driving she pulled into an empty driveway. “This- this was supposed to be a surprise… I bought it when we were in Scotland... For when I was finally able to propose. For when we were finally able to start our lives together. Our happy ending.”

Tears began falling rapidly down her cheeks. “We were supposed to be a happy ending.” She whispered brokenly. “I just want you to be able to see it b-before you go. You deserve more than to have your last moments in that room.” Her words were shaky as if it took all she had to even get them out. Because it did.

Wanda made her way out of the car and carefully carried you out to the middle of the empty lot. “I love you, Y/n. So much.” She whispered, noticing the way your breath was becoming weaker and weaker by the minute. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

Slowly she sunk to the ground, still holding you in her arms. The pain in her chest growing unbearable. She couldn’t breathe. All she felt was pain. Broken sobs fell from her lips as she watched the color steadily fade from your face. The steady thrum of your heart rate against her fingertips fading away.

With a scream of agony red burst from her chest and you began floating in the air, gently wrapped in the red. Quickly the energy expanded and expanded. The house appearing from nothing as your feet slowly touched the floor. The hospital gown that you were in moments before gone and replaced with an old-fashioned dress. Your eyes were still closed as the red energy continued to stream out of Wanda.

When the red faded away, Wanda was left breathless by the sight. All she could see was you. Her eyes watered when she met your eyes again. The eyes she had spent weeks begging to see open again.

You, standing before her with the same smile you wore the first time that you met. Your eyes looking at her with all the love you had before it all went wrong. That was all she ever wanted.

Tentatively she stepped forward, as if one wrong move would make you disappear. The outfit she was wearing transforming into an old fashioned dress as well.

The smile she gave you was loving as her eyes shone with feelings she hadn’t been able to feel in weeks. Happiness. “Wanda. Darling. I’ve missed you.” You said sincerely. “Should we stay in tonight?”

You turned on the radio before meeting her in front of the couch.

“That’s why, darling, it’s incredible that someone so unforgettable thinks that I am unforgettable too.”

As the music washed over you both, you took a seat on the couch wrapping an arm around Wanda, pulling her closer as her hand lifted to glide over your cheek. Her fingertips brushing along your jaw lovingly until they landed on the back of your neck and pulled you closer. Your lips met in a sweet kiss and Wanda happily gave herself over to the moment. To you.

Wanda watched the moment with an aching heart as the scene before her faded away. Suddenly she heard the sound of clapping in the distance. She cautiously made her way forward, squinting against the bright overhead lights.

“Bravo.” Agatha called sarcastically before snapping her fingers and disappearing into a haze of purple smoke.

Before Wanda could react, she heard the desperate cries of her children. “Mom! Mom! Help us!”

“Please! Please, help us!” Continued as she ran to the door and into the bright daylight.

Panic coursed through her veins as she ran down the street frantically trying to find the twins. Her chest tightening as her breathing became almost impossible.

A moment later she came to a stop before Agatha. The sight making her stomach turn. Agatha held the twins hostage as the purple force wrapped around their necks, preventing them from escaping. “I know what you are.” Agatha called out, but all Wanda could focus on was the pain her children were in.

Her hands began to glow as she made a weak attempt to reassure them. “It’s okay, babies. It’s okay. I’m here.”

“You have no idea how dangerous you are. You’re supposed to be a myth. A being capable of spontaneous creation and here you are… Using it to make breakfast for dinner!” Agatha’s lips curled in disgust.

The glow in Wanda’s hands intensified. “Let go of my children!”

“Oh yes, your children. And Y/n. And this whole little life you’ve made… This is Chaos Magic, Wanda… And that makes you... the Scarlet Witch.”

And we have concluded with part 8! One final part after this!

If you would like to actually read what happens in SWORD with Hayward its in part 13 of "Love Goes" which I will tag here. And a nice conversation that they had about feeling like drowning is in part 1 of "Love Goes" which I will tag here.

Ironically, I wrote that scene about drowning before episode 8 of Wandavision came out so it kind of messed with the flashback scene when I was writing it.

Anyway, that's all. As always, I hope you all enjoyed! Thoughts and comments always welcome! :)

Taglist:

@theofficialzivadavid // @tquick99 // @marrymemcgrath // @afuckingshituniverse // @pxterstrk // @aimezvousbrahms // @ensorcellme // @sapphicshots // @daisybri7

[anabsolutetrainwreck]

i can hate you sometimes || h. styles

warnings: pre-covid, mentions of sex, swearing, kissing

word count: 2.2k

summary: you and harry have mutual friends, but that doesn’t mean you two are friends. but when harry gets caught in the rain and you’re the closest person he can turn to, it makes for a much more awkward night...

Though you could respect Harry’s artistic abilities when it came to creating music, you could barely tolerate him as a person. Likewise, he wasn’t at all too fond of you. You shared friends in common, which often unfortunately resulted in many a night out with him and your mutual friends.

Yes, Harry was a respectful man. That was perhaps the one thing you could say didn’t irritate you about him. Everything else, the subtle cockiness he played off as jokes; the incessant need to be centre of attention; the bloated ego, which left him thinking he was above everyone else, all of that stuff, you couldn’t stand. But he wasn’t going to stop you from enjoying time with your friends, so you continued to go out drinking with them or go out for big meals with them or on lavish holidays with them. Unfortunately, he had the same mindset. You were both very stubborn.

Going out with your friends when Harry was there seemed like a difficult task at first. But if you sat at the opposite end of the table or stayed fairly distant in a club, the night tended to run smoothly. The one time you’d been left alone was around a year ago when you and Harry had gone out for dinner with Sarah and Mitch. Sarah had gone to the toilet and Mitch had gone to pay the bill. It had been two or three minutes maybe, but it felt like long, excruciating hours. Days, even. You’d distracted yourself by finishing off your wine and trying hard to look anywhere but in Harry’s direction. He’d busied himself with his phone and trying hard to look anywhere but your direction. But, either way, it had been perhaps the most awkward experience of your life.

And now, on a quiet Sunday evening, you found yourself preparing some pasta. Your dog, albeit too big for his own good, was curled up in front of the fireplace. You had your laptop set up on your coffee table, your classical music playlist floating through your house.

It had begun raining heavily about five minutes ago. The droplets were pelting down on your large windows. You had some candles set up and a glass of wine waiting for you on the coffee table in your living room. It was the perfect romantic evening for one.

A knock on your front door took your attention from the boiling water before you. You quickly jogged through to your hallway, opening the door. And, much to your surprise and perhaps disappointment, you were met with the face of Harry Styles. “Can I help you?” you asked, staring at him expectantly.

He sighed, almost embarrassed to ask, but said, “Can I stop at yours until the rain passes?”

You looked him up and down. Stop at yours? Why did that send your stomach into a state of flutters? “Just get an uber,” you said firmly.

He winced, “My phone’s dead. Can you at least let me charge it so I can get an uber?”

You weren’t a fan of Harry (biggest understatement of the year), but that didn’t mean you were an utter asshole. Of course you would let him stop at yours for a little while. Anyone would, right? You sighed, making sure he knew this was a reluctant decision of yours, “Sure.”

He thanked you as he shuffled into your house. He removed his coat and hung it up on your coat rack. Quietly, he followed you into your living room. “Here,” you said curtly, passing him one of your spare chargers.

The entire exchange was even more awkward than last year’s meal with Sarah and Mitch. Benny, your dog, was quite clearly enthralled about the arrival of Harry. He jumped up at the brunette man, his tongue hanging loose. As you tended to your exuberant pasta meal, you could hear Harry petting Benny.

On the few occasions Harry had met Benny, he loved the dog. But, Benny was a dog after all and it was hard to hate a dog. Especially one as lovable and as cuddly as Benny. Harry’s footsteps became louder as he entered the kitchen, Benny, tail wagging, not far behind. It was only when you looked up did you notice Harry carrying your laptop with him. Your first instinct was to tell him to put it the fuck down; it was your laptop - you paid good money for it. But something seemed to stop you from snapping at the man, who was soaked from the rain, in front of you. Usually, you struggled with biting your tongue around Harry. He was just infuriating. “Can I please put something else on?” he asked, gesturing to the screen, which had Spotify open.

You shrugged. You weren’t that bothered if he wasn’t in the mood to listen to your collection of great classical records. It was his loss. Besides, your pasta was nearly finished and then  you’d dish it up and settle down in front of the tv. “Sure.”

There was a moment of silence after he’d paused to whatever piece was playing. “What’s this?” his voice came suddenly.

You knew exactly what he’d found. And you practically kicked yourself for forgetting you had it. It was your playlist, simply titled ‘sex’. A sex playlist. A playlist for sex. “I didn’t take you as the type to have a designated sex playlist,” he said, smirking.

“Well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” you grumbled, your cheeks heating up.

“Clearly. Some interesting choices on here, Y/N. Not as many of mine as I thought there’d be,” he said.

There was none. None of Harry’s songs on your sex playlist and, if he was being honest, it kind of irritated him slightly. The thought of you having sex to his voice was an enriching one. But what most definitely pissed him off, was the sight of a couple Liam Payne songs and a few of Zayn’s. “I didn’t think Sign of the Times was right for the occasion,” you shrugged. “Do you want some pasta?”

“If there’s some going,” he said quickly. “I do have other songs you know. Besides, Sign of the Times is a great sex song. Starts off slow, builds to a climax...”

You turned to look at him. Only then did you realise you were actually having this conversation with him. Still, you pressed on. “All songs build to a climax one way or another. It’s called a crescendo.”

“Yeah, I know what it’s fucking called,” he sighed. “I’m the musician here.”

“And yet you can’t appreciate classical music. Anyway, if you’re so convinced you have good sex songs, name a few,” you challenged.

He spoke as he followed you through to the living room. You set his bowl of pasta (you always had a habit of making your portions way too large) down on the coffee table beside the candles and wine. “Okay, Kiwi.”

You hummed in thought, “What if I want something a little slower? Like, Kiwi could totally ruin the mood.”

He shifted in his seat. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his phone light up, signalling it had at least a little bit of power. But now he was eating your fresh pasta and discussing sex songs with you, and frankly, he didn’t want to leave. “Woman? You can’t tell me you’ve never had sex with Woman playing,” he said.

“Well, I can. So I will: I’ve never had sex with Woman playing,” you replied; you liked this game.

“Okay, come on. She is the perfect sex song,” he said smugly.

Now this one tripped you up. Because you’d had sex to She before. It had come on when the guy you were sleeping with asked if he could shuffle his playlist. She had come on second, maybe. And those six minutes had been the best of your life. You told yourself it was just the guy you were seeing at the time, and he certainly didn’t mind the compliment. But, in hindsight, you realised it was probably the fact that Harry was singing about living in daydreams in the background. In that moment, the sex hadn’t even been at the forefront of your mind. It was his fucking velvet voice. “I wouldn’t know.”

He smirked, “You’ve had sex to She, haven’t you?”

“No.”

“You have! I knew it.”

“Piss off, Harry.”

You hoped your nonchalant replies would be enough to deter his attention from the subject at hand. But alas, he didn’t seem to pick up on it. That, or he was deliberately ignoring your tone. You were beginning to regret letting Harry into your house. And you weren’t afraid to tell him so. “I wish I’d just left you in the rain.”

He scoffed, “That’s not very nice, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes at him, making sure he saw. God, you could really hate him sometimes. “Harry, we’re literally discussing my sex life. It’s none of your business. And a bit personal, don’t you think? You don’t even know my surname.”

You got to your feet and made your way through to the kitchen, placing your empty bowl in the sink. You could hear him behind you, you just wanted to turn around and tell him to give you a moment to yourself. He was like a puppy. Before you had the chance to do so, you felt him lean over, placing his bowl beside yours. He was so close. 

Turning around slowly, you were met with him. He was there, right there. You looked up at him. He wasn’t moving. You were torn between pushing past him, making sure he knew you were angry and staying for a while, basking in the sexual tension that was buzzing around in the air. “I do know your surname,” was all he said.

He was so close, his eyes exploring your face as if he’d never seen it before. Trapped between Harry and the kitchen counter, you’d fantasised about this moment for ages. Harry’s face a mere few centimetres away from your own. You could feel his breath on your face. It was warm, welcoming. “Do you?” you choked out. 

He nodded slightly. The revelation of Harry knowing your surname was almost surprising to you. You didn’t think he paid that much attention to anything that had something to do with you. Up until this point, standing in your kitchen, neither of you daring to make the first move, you’d thought he only knew your first name because he was obliged to. 

You both yearned the simple delight of the other’s touch. All the pent up sexual tension from the last years, longing looks disguised as glares of disgust and the little snarky remarks used as an excuse to talk to each other, all of that began unravelling at the seams. He looked at you and you looked at him, both of you daring the other to make the first point of euphoric contact. “Harry,” you forced out quietly, hoping he’d take that as a sign that he could touch you, kiss you, anything.

“What do you want?” he hummed gently. “What can I give you?”

“Just kiss me.”

You were also embarrassed that, after years of suppressing your enrapturing feelings, you were asking him to kiss you. And still, he didn’t touch you. It was like he was playing some sick game with you. And then the dreadful thought that he might just be doing all of this to give him a means to mock you in the future. If that was the case, he’d have the perfect upper hand over you. “Do you still wish you’d left me in the rain?” he asked, almost taunting you as he left you practically begging for his touch. 

You shook your head, “No, no. God, no. Harry, please.”

“Anything you want, darling.”

“Kiss me.”

“Only if you’re sure you want me to.”

“I do, Harry. Please.”

And when he was sure he had your definite consent, he didn’t waste another moment. He placed his large hand on your cheek, the tips of his fingers buried in your hair. His lips on yours was perhaps the most perfect form of ecstasy. As you wrapped your arms around his neck, tilting your head up to meet his, you were sure you’d travelled to some distant infatuating dreamland you only ever hear about. 

Reluctantly, you pulled away, panting slightly, “Don’t go.”

“What?”

“Don’t get an uber. Stay with me tonight.”

A smile crept its way up into Harry’s features. He tried to hide how elated he was that you’d proposed he spend the night with you. A grin tugged at the corners of his lips, which were parted slightly. All he wanted to do was indulge his need for your perfect taste all night. From the moment the sky went from the most divine lavender colour to the most starry black, to the moment it turned back to the most marvellous oranges and reds in the waking of the sun. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that to me.”

part two.

[forever-rogue]

List #1: either 152 or 246 for Frankie 😌

I ended up going with #246: “please don’t do this.” Enjoy!

Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader ; warnings: angst, mention of drug use, ptsd

Frankie Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Frankie?” you waved your hand in front of his face as he zoned out, staring blankly at the window behind you. You were in the middle of dinner at a nice restaurant and just as quickly as he tuned into your conversation, he had tuned out again. You let out a small sigh, “Francisco? Love?”

It took him a few moments to snap out of his little daze before came back to reality and gave you a confused expression. You reached for his hand, attempting to give him a gentle, reassuring touch, but he quickly moved his hand and flinched out of your touch, “sorry. It’s fine.”

“Francisco,” you whispered softly, trying not to take his rejection of your touch too personally, “what’s going on, my love? Where did you go?”

“Nothing - nowhere," he insisted sharply, grabbing his glass of wine and downing the rest without hesitation. Your face must have given you away because he quickly shook his head in apology, internally groaning at himself for snapping at you, “I’m sorry. Just tired.”

“Yeah?” you asked softly as he nodded, still refusing to make eye contact with you for longer than a few seconds. You turned back to your half finished meal, pushing around some of the food on your plate, trying to will down the tears that were burning the back of your eyes. You weren’t going to cry, no, no. no. Not now anyways. You plastered a small smile on your face as you turned to look at him, “okay. I love you.”

“Love you too,” it was a quiet, non-committal thing as he continued eating.

The rest of dinner was a stunted, silent affair as neither of you said another word. When the waiter came by to drop off the check, Frankie took it without a word and paid. As you left and walked back to his truck, you let yourself fall a few paces behind him, wondering what you had done, if anything, to cause the sudden divide. 

He drove you home with the only light crackling of the aging radio playing some classic rock music. The tension in the air was palpable and could easily be cut with the dullest of knives, but you refused to speak. If anything, you didn’t want him to lash out again or do anything to send him further away again. 

He pulled up to your building, letting the truck idle as you weren’t quite sure what to do. You’d half thought that you were going to go home with him this evening and spend the weekend at his, as you’d often taken to doing in the last few months, but as soon as he’d shut down, you had a feeling it wasn’t happening. 

Clearing your throat, you grabbed your purse and slowly opened the door, already feeling much colder and empty. This wasn’t how you’d pictured this night at all. 

“Good night Frankie,” you whispered softly, looking at him and wishing he’d just look back at you. He gave you a nod of his head, signaling he’d heard you before turning his head to give you a weak smile. It lasted for a mere fraction of a second before he was staring at the steering wheel, “text me when you get home?” 

“Sure,” he responded quietly as you got and closed the door, “good night.”

When you realized that was the best you were going to get from him, you stepped onto the sidewalk and gently closed the truck door. You wanted to turn around and beg him to stay or talk to you or something  - but you didn’t even turn around. You decided that this was better for another time...maybe he really did just need some space right now. 

He waited until you were safely inside the building before pulling away from the curb and heading off to his own house. You were on the verge of tears again but managed to hold them all back into your stepping into your apartment. As soon as you were in the quiet and empty space, you let the tears flow freely, giving up on doing anything else and dragging yourself to your bedroom. 

Frankie didn’t text you that night. Or the next day. Or the day after that.

By Monday, you were worried sick.

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was dark by the time you left work; you'd texted and called Frankie, but had gotten no response. It was then that you'd made your decision and planned to stop by his place after work. 

When you pulled up to his house, a sigh of relief escaped your lips when you spied his truck in the driveway. You quickly parked and dashed towards his door. A frown worked its way onto your face as you noticed that there were no lights on. 

Fishing the key that he'd given you of your pocket, you unlocked the door and were met with only silence and darkness. A lump welled up in your throat as you walked inside, "Frankie?"

You walked in and looked around, finding that things were almost identical to how they were when you stopped by a few days ago. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

You hoped this didn't mean….no. He was clean - he had been for some time and you didn't think anything would cause him to turn back to his vices. He'd always been open and honest with you about his struggles with sobriety and how much it meant to be off of the stuff for good.

And in the almost year you'd been dating, you'd supported him and been there during at least a handful of hard nights. They were times when he'd call, quiet and broken, asking you to come over without explanation. You'd never pried, never pushed him, rather you'd just held him, supported him however he needed. He always said you were a rock in his life, his sunshine amidst the darkness of the world.

If that's what he was struggling with again, why would he have just told you? You'd never judge him or make him feel bad or anything. You loved him, unconditionally, and that meant supporting him through the tough times as well as the easy ones. Nothing was going to change that.

"Frankie?" you sighed quietly as you padded down the hall to his bedroom. The house was cold and felt empty, but you had a feeling he was there, "Francisco?"

You hesitated slightly before stepping into his bedroom, pushing the door open the rest of the way before entering. The room was shrouded in darkness, the last bits of light from the sunset creeping in through the window. The television was on, but muted, playing some reruns of old football games. 

Your eyes crossed the room and you finally spied him on the bed, laying on top of the blankets as he stared at the ceiling. He didn't move or blink or anything to acknowledge your presence. Your heart started to beat wildly as you walked over to him.

"Frankie? Love?" you sat down at the edge of the bed as you hesitated to reach over and touch him. He didn't flinch out of your touch this time, but he didn't reach out for your touch either. You gently brushed some of the curls off of his forehead, "hey, what's going on, my love?"

It was easy to see he hadn't changed out of his clothes from the ones he had been wearing on your date the other night. His face had more scruff on it than normal. Shit. You were almost positive he hadn't moved since.

After what seemed like a small eternity, he slowly turned to look at you, a hollow, empty expression in his eyes. He studied you for a moment, noting the worried look on your face before he softened slightly, "I never texted you."

"No," you let a nervous huff of laughter as you shook your head, "not on Friday, not over weekend, or today. I was so worried, honey."

"Its-I'm fine," he insisted meekly, "there's nothing to worry about."

"Are you sure?" you asked as you gestured vaguely, "you haven't changed or showered since Friday...have you eaten at all? Nothing looks touched. You dropped off the face of the planet, Frankie. Are you sure everything's alright? You can tell me anything, you know."

"I don't know why you think there's something going on," he sighed as he moved to sit up and leaned away from you, "I'm just tired and wanted a few days alone. I'm sorry if that bothers you and yes, I should have told you or something, but you don't need to worry so much. I'm not using if that's what you're thinking."

"You swear it?" you tried to keep your lip from trembling as he nodded, "if there's anything going on you, please just talk to me. Whatever it is. I don't care - I love you more than anything. I just...I want you to be okay."

"I know," he sighed as he rubbed his tired face, "I know. And I'm sorry for getting annoyed...its just...I dunno. But I'm okay. Sorry for being an asshole."

"As long as you're okay its forgiven," he reached over and gave your hand a squeeze, "go take a shower and eat, Frankie. I can stay….or go…"

"Stay," he whispered softly as you nodded before leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, "please stay."

»»————-　♡　————-««

And so you stayed. That night and many others.

It was several more months before anything of the sort happened again. But when it did...it hit hard. It was even worse than the last time.

He cut himself off from you and his friends and everyone else. This time you tried even harder, to try to get him to talk, to tell him that you were there for him no matter what, that you wanted to help however you could.

You even suggested it was time to see a therapist, a psychologist, a support group - something. If he wasn't willing to open up to you, maybe he could open to someone else. You just wanted him better, to have your Frankie, and not the Frankie that shut down periodically. You wanted the best for him.

But the more you tried, the more he pushed back. The more closed off he became. The more he argued with you. The more he insisted that nothing was wrong. 

But it never stopped you from loving him - it never stopped from trying to always be the best for him so he could be his best. No matter how hard it became. 

The good times were good. They were happy and fun, and it often seemed like he’d never had a bad day in his life. 

Frankie Morales, for all that he was, was a good, kind, loving man. He treated you like you were his queen, which you were. He did love you, unconditionally so. He was just plagued with so many demons and dark thoughts and memories. He tried, but he just...he couldn’t ever seem to tackle them, no matter how he or you tried. 

He knew it wasn’t fair to you, but gods, he did love you more than anything. He loved you more than life itself, even if he didn’t show it. 

But you? You were getting burnt out - you didn’t love him any less, you were...tired. 

That's why the next time he descended into his week long stupor, you knew it was going to be the last. You didn't want to come down to this, but there was only so much you could take before you broke.

It was a quiet night, and you'd come from work. You lived with Frankie now and had been nearing two years together. For the most part, it had been amazing, and since you'd moved in, he'd only had a handful of bad days. You should have known something was bound to come up.

When you got inside it was dark - the only light was from the living room television. Frankie was sitting on the couch, several empty cans of beer around him. You sighed when you realized nothing had been done today; it was his day off and his turn to do some chores and cooking.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"Francisco?" you dropped your purse and went over to him, dropping to your knees as you reached for his face to get him to look at you. He had that same hollow look in his eyes like he always did when this happened, "please talk to me, my love. What's going on? Talk me through it."

"Its nothing," he insisted as he pulled your hands from his wrists, a frown tugging down the corners of his mouth, "just tired and don't want to deal with anything."

"Frankie," you said his name softly as you gave him a gentle expression, "baby, please talk to me. It's not good to shut me or anyone out. We just want to help. I love you so much, I just want the best for you. We all do."

"Then just back off!" you flinched back as he yelled; you'd never heard him snap like this before. A pit formed in the bottom of your stomach as you backed away, "just let me be! I don't need you pushing all the time!"

"Okay," you didn't bother to stop your tears as you stood up and walked to walk away.

Making your way to the bedroom, you pulled out an old suitcase from the closet and started throwing your things into it. It was a haphazard job but you didn't care; nothing mattered. The tears blurred your vision as you fumbled about, your heart breaking little by little.

It wasn't long before you were lugging it out and stopping in the living room. He barely turned to look at you.

"I'm leaving," you managed to choke out as his brow furrowed, "I-I-I can't do this anymore. I can't keep going through this again and again and again without you getting help o-or something. I love you so damn much, Frankie, I do. But this isn't fair to me either, and I want to help but maybe I don't know how, but you need to want it to. And right now, I don't know if you do. I've tried everything, so has Santi, and Benny...and I'm at my wits end. Maybe me being gone is what you need."

"What?" his eyes widened in shock as he realized what you were saying, "no, no, no - you can't...I love you."

"I know you do, Frankie," you promised him, "but right now you need to take care of and love yourself first. I need you to get better for you. I need you to be the best you, whatever that entails. But I think that doesn't involve me right now. Or maybe ever. And I have to take care of me too."

"Please don't do this," he got up and came over to you, his own eyes glossy, "please don't leave...stay. I-I-I'll get better, I swear it. Honey, I love you-"

"I know," you gave him a weak smile, "and I want you to get better. And no matter how much it hurts, because I love you, I need to go. You need to do this for you, Frankie. Not anyone else."

"Please...don't go."

"I'm sorry," you whispered, leaning over and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, "I have to. Please, Francisco, please understand how much I love you. But right now, I have to go. I'll call Santi, okay? I'll have him check on you."

"Honey…"

"This isn't goodbye, Frankie," you promised him softly, "so don't say it. I love you always, and maybe one day, our paths will cross again."

"Please...don't," his voice broke and cracked as reached for your hand. You pulled out of his touch as you headed for the door, "please stay."

"See you later, Frankie," you whispered softly, "just remember that I love you. Please do this for you. Please love yourself too."

"Honey…"

But you didn't turn around. You walked out the door and closed it behind you.

Despite how much you wanted to, you didn't look back. You just kept going.

Going, going, gone. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[valdomarx]

La Campanella

McShep + Rodney plays the piano Rodney never could resist a challenge, especially when it’s set by Sheppard.

Atlantis is a place of many wonders, but Rodney's favorite is this:

In a distant part of the northern pier is a short, squat tower which he and Sheppard investigate on a routine patrol.

And in that tower is a large, unassuming room like a lecture hall.

And in the center of the room is an object seven foot long and three feet high, elegant, delicate, and familiar.

“Is that…” Rodney practically runs over to touch it, as reckless as that urge can be in Atlantis, but he knows this isn’t a weapon or a piece of broken technology or some dangerous machine. It’s a thing of beauty.

It’s an instrument remarkably like a piano: white and black reversed, keys slightly different lengths, but the same 12-step configuration making up an octave. Keys which strike strings stretched over a wide frame with soft hammers, and this can’t be a coincidence.

“How... ” he starts, and then he answers his own question. “The Ancients must have invented this instrument and brought the concept with them to Earth. But that would overturn so much musical history they’ll have to rewrite the textbooks, can you even imagine the implications -”

John does not look as fascinated by the profound repercussions of this discovery on the history of western classical music as Rodney is.

He waves questions of history aside and sits on the low stool in front of the keyboard, blowing away the years of accumulated dust. His hands instinctively settle into arches, his wrists loose, and he plays a few simple scales. The notes sound out clear and true, but -

He frowns.

“Something wrong?” Sheppard is leaning over the instrument, studying him and it with interest.

“This is tuned half a tone lower than an Earth piano. Feels a bit weird, that’s all.”

“How do you know that?”

Rodney affects his smuggest smile. “Perfect pitch, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Sheppard says, rolling his eyes.

Rodney looks around the room furtively, keen for reasons he can’t articulate that no one else should observe them, and he starts to play.

-

It becomes a habit, a place to unwind, somewhere they visit on off hours and in quiet moments.

Today Sheppard is flicking through a golf magazine while Rodney warms up with some Bach. The music is pleasing and orderly, and the sparse, bright notes explode in fractal-like patterns, unfurling and changing and becoming more complex the closer you look.

John tilts his head to one side and says, “You know there’s a whole bunch of classical music on the Atlantis server?”

Rodney grins. He did know that, in fact. Never get between a team of scientists and their file sharing. “I may have heard.”

“I listened to some of the Chopin you like. Then some other piano stuff as well.”

“Yeah?” Rodney picks at a fingernail. Something about the idea of John listening to music just because Rodney likes it makes his heart beat a little faster. “Find anything you liked?”

“A bunch actually. Have you heard of a piece called La Campanella? By a guy named Liszt?"

"Have I…" Has he heard of the single hardest piece in the entire solo piano repertoire? The fact he could never get those double stops right haunts him to this day. "Yeah, it rings a bell."

"I like that one," John says decisively. "It's nice."

Nice??? Sheppard thinks the most epic and demanding piece of all time is nice? Of course he does.

"You should learn to play it," John says casually, like he's suggesting they watch an action movie instead of a scifi.

"I should -" he splutters. "Do you have any idea how difficult that is? It's practically impossible."

John smirks and says, "I thought practically impossible was your specialty?"

Rodney is still spluttering when John throws him a wink and walks out.

-

And then, because despite being the finest mind in two galaxies, on some level he truly is an idiot, he stretches out his fingers and starts to practice.

-

It's not like he had copious free time to start with. But he makes space whenever he can to come to the piano room, chipping away at this ludicrous piece, bit by bit, phrase by phrase, over and over and over.

People think that learning to play is artistry, and maybe it is that too, but mostly it's a grind. You keep doing it again and again until you get it right. It's as much about stubbornness as about skill.

And stubbornness is something Rodney McKay has in abundance.

-

Liszt really was a sadistic old bastard, Rodney thinks sourly as he works on the right hand jumps until his fingers turn to lead.

-

Sometimes Sheppard comes and sits with him while he practices, and on those days he plays easier pieces, things which are familiar and casual. Not that John seems to pay much attention, but Rodney has the urge to impress him all the same.

He’s always having that urge around John.

-

He spends an entire week working on his goddamn trill.

It shouldn’t matter and it’s not like anyone will really listen to it. But it seems to represent something important — a sequence of paired adjacent notes, next to each other but never quite touching, bouncing off each other time and time again, a dance of two — though he doesn’t want to examine that too closely.

-

He doesn’t tell anyone else about the piano. He tells himself that’s because it’s convenient that he doesn’t have to share and can use it whenever he wants.

But really, he likes that it’s his and Sheppard’s; their own tiny secret in this vast and sprawling city.

-

He hears the piece in his sleep, and on missions, and when he’s working in his lab. It becomes a background hum of his brain, always there, a sort of yearning for the possible, the platonic ideal, the way that things could be.

He tries not to examine that too closely either, though the weight of the realization is becoming harder to ignore.

-

Eventually the piece is as ready as it's going to be. He scribbles a quick note during a meeting, folds it into a paper airplane, and throws it at Sheppard's head. He hits him right in the temple, and he manages to avoid cheering when Elizabeth glares at him.

I have something to play for you, the note reads. Meet you at 7? You know where. - R

He jots it down without really thinking, and only once he's thrown does it occur to him how soppy it sounds.

John doesn't seem too perturbed though. He smiles down at the note and meets Rodney's eye with a little eyebrow wiggle which Rodney takes to mean, Gonna impress me?

-

By the time John arrives, Rodney is all warmed up and more nervous than he's ever been about a performance. His heart is racing, and when John gives him a fond look and says, "Hey," it trips even faster.

Once he settles in to play though, there's a certain kind of mental clarity that settles over him. His hands know how to do this, he just has to sit back and let them.

His wrists are still tense as he sounds out the first few bars and then, all at once, he relaxes into it and lets the music carry him. Hours of repetition have made every chord, every melody, every insane and unreasonable jump into something almost effortless. He even forgets John is there: there’s only him, and the piano, and the music.

The music builds and builds, each section becoming more and more ornamented, more complex, more physically demanding, all at a relentless pace that sends most players reeling. But he's got this, he can do this, it turns out all he needed was a bit of motivation.

The penultimate section is his favorite: The technical parts are done and here he can throw himself into the wild, over the top glory of the final melody. And perhaps he shows off a little bit, catching John's eye and grinning at him, but that's all part of the fun.

The piece ends with a crashing, massive finale that makes him feel like a virtuoso, and then in a last few epic chords it's done, as tight and perfect a five minutes as you could wish for.

The final chord reverberates on and on through the stillness of the room, glowing out beyond the city and into the night.

"Wow." John's eyes are wide. "That was great."

Rodney preens, because that ineloquent little comment somehow means more to him than an auditorium full of ecstatic applause. Having John look at him like that makes the months of practice worth it.

"You liked it?" He's fishing for compliments, but he figures he's earned it.

"I did," John says, staring at Rodney's hands like they hold the secrets to the universe.

He looks up and blushes at having been caught staring. Then he deflects and shrugs one shoulder. “Honestly, though, it’s not my favorite piano piece.”

Rodney narrows his eyes. He has the distinct impression he’s been played. “What was your favorite then?”

"I prefer Songs Without Words."

"Mendelssohn?" he explodes. "You wanted Mendelssohn? Jesus Christ, I learned to play that when I was eight!"

John grins. "I appreciate simplicity in music."

"Then why on earth did you make me learn Liszt?!"

John has this joyous, manic light in his eyes, like he's having the time of his life here, messing around with Rodney, of all the things he could be doing. "I like watching you do impossible things."

He sucks in a breath. "I hate you."

"No you don't." John leans in, smug and delighted, and oh, Rodney is so in love with this ridiculous, infuriating man that he could burst. "You learned La Campanella for me."

"It wasn't that hard," he says quickly, because he has a reputation to maintain here. But John laughs and gives him this soft, teasing look, one eyebrow quirked at a ridiculous angle beneath the chaotic mess of his hair, and Rodney is defenseless.

"Whatever you say, McKay," John says, and Rodney has the feeling he sees straight through him. "Now play it again."

[chocopuffie]

just realized that i’ve never done a proper introduction so here goes!! if it sucks ik just bear w me here please :’)

name’s Mari, a white woman. pronouns are she/her.

zodiac: Libra sun, Aries moon and Virgo rising.

i think the first thing y’all should know about me is, i’m struggling with BPD (diagnosed) so please if you’re not a patient person, don’t interact w me.

i’m looking for friends!! so if you wanna send a msg to my way then please do cuz i’m kinda desperate-i’m nice and friendly i swear. PLS NO SMALL TALK I WILL CHERISH YOU FOREVER.

personality type is INFJ.

INTERESTS : i love writing random stuff, either vent poems, short stories or just simple roleplaying, i don’t have a rp account on here, maybe i’ll make one who knows. i love editing, i have an editing account on insta and tiktok: tazunxs.

MY OCS!! seriously i love all of them sm, i can talk about them and my ships for HOURS! so feel free to ask.

i love listening to music (pop,classical,piano music,etc) if you want my spotify i’ll give the link!

i love watching youtube, mostly commentary channels like (kurtis conner, cody ko, danny gonzalez, drew gooden) but i also love gaming channels.

SHOWS I LIKE :

Heartbreak High

Arcane

Miraculous Ladybug

Black Mirror

Sex Education

Bojack Horseman

Shadow and Bone

I’m not okay with this

Aggretsuko

YOU

She-Ra

Ginny & Georgia

MLP.

(and more i can’t think of much-)

MOVIES I LIKE :

i’m mostly into Disney movies and i’m a big Marvel fan but i also like some movies from DC, Dreamworks, i love INSIDE, psychological thrillers, comedies and some good romcoms.



GAMES I LIKE :

Overwatch

Cyberpunk 2077

Borderlands 2

DDLC

Dead by Daylight

Valorant

Uncharted

Life is Strange

Last Of Us

Detroit: Become Human

Tell me Why

Telltale’s Walking dead and Batman series

ask me for more :’)

IK THESE LISTS ARE ALL OVER THE PLACE FORGIVE ME. BUT YEAH THIS IS ME. HOPE YOU READ THE WHOLE THING <3

[hes-writer]

Behind the Curtain

Summary: harry and y/n go on a date

Warnings: smut, semi-public sex, oral, male receiving (so far)

Word Count: 5163 words

A/N: this is essentially a part two to 'under the table'. currently experiencing pre-upload jitters. i’m so nervous to post this. 😬

___

“Y’didn’t have to do this, love,” Harry whispered in Y/N’s ear, his green eyes admiring the golden tassels wrapped around the deep red curtains of the waiting area. His left arm encompassing around her waist, loosely playing with the fabric of her dress as they waited in line to speak to the person at the front desk. Soft sounds blared through the hidden speakers, caressing his ears with classical music that he surprisingly enjoyed. 

Y/N rested her freshly manicured hand on his chest. Her fingertips grazed his skin through the unbuttoned material of his dress shirt. The antennas of the black butterfly resting on his tummy coming alive as Harry’s stomach fluttered. Painted lips tickled his ear with a subtle touch and lowly-whispered words, “How else am I supposed to get your cock in my mouth?” Y/N stared at him innocently, purposefully pouting her mouth as she fluttered her long eyelashes at him. 

His eyes bulged from their sockets, snapping his head around their vicinity to see if anybody heard her suggestive purr. Sweet Y/N talking so dirtily to him was rare, and so Harry couldn’t help sharp breath of air he sucked in. He willed his cock to stay soft but it still gave a slight twitch in his trousers. The taut hinge of his jaw hardened as Harry pictured how such a pristine looking woman could be so naughty. God, he was so lucky to have her. “No fuckin’ way,” Harry’s voice grated against his throat. The deepness of it sends thrilling tremors up Y/N’s spine. She quickly faced the front, letting the corner of her mouth quirk up at his tortured murmur of her name. “Y/N…”

Harry sighed in frustration as his girl ignored him in favour of expectantly waiting for their turn. 

“Hi, réservation pour Styles,” Y/N spoke to the waitress, eyeing him like a vulture to a prey. Harry’s mouth parted open at her accent. It seemed as though her mouth shaped itself perfectly to enunciate the words. “Oui, pour deux,” (Yes, for two)

Fuck. Did she always speak French? Why didn’t he know about this? Harry’s neurons fired rapidly, brows pinching in curiosity and throat shriveling with a rash tightness. 

Her hair was slicked back into a ponytail, edges gelled to her forehead in hypnotizing swirls that he often traced with the crown of his finger. The rash juxtaposition of her body lying beside his in their shared bed, virtuously enjoying each other’s company flushing down the drain the moment her gentle hand tugged his behind the curtain of the waiting area. “Allez, Harry!” (Come on, Harry!) She said, commanding him to follow her closely. 

Harry didn’t know what to expect from her tonight-- only that she planned to have him writhing in his seat as she let him enjoy the company of her warm mouth.  He certainly didn’t expect the semi-private booths so close to each other, separated from prying eyes with thick duvets of velvet maroon fabric. Empty booths showcased a rectangular table with plush seats and portieres tied on the edge of the posts. While on their way to their reserved cubicle, Harry couldn’t help but notice a couple giggling amongst themselves as they exited their table. Y/N gave him a nudge, jutting her chin towards said couple with a glint in her starry eyes.

“Here’s your table,” The waitress greeted with a smile. “The curtains will be drawn closed for privacy if you please. When you’re ready to order, just press the button over here,” She acted her words, pressing her pointer to the golden button merged at the edge of the table. The button flickered twice before suspending in a light glow. “Je serai ici dès que possible,” (I’ll be here as soon as I can)

“Merci,” (Thank you) Y/N nodded in understanding, arms slipping from the confines of her coat. Harry smiled in response, helping the waitress untie the tassels from the post. As soon as the curtains fell, their booth darkened. The luminosity from the general restaurant setting being blocked out. Yellow-hued light from the fixture above their heads spread enough warmth to see each other. The electronic candle in the middle of the dark table flickering as if it was real.

“I didn’t know you could speak French,” Harry’s voice was tight as a knot, lips barely parting to let the words escape. His decorated fingers flickered through the menu distractedly, keeping an open ear to her response. 

Y/N nodded, “Yeah, I took classes,” She reached over to soothe her palm over his knuckles. They were bruised and purpling from the raucous punches he threw even with the cushion of the boxing gloves. “Pourquoi? Aimes-tu?” (Why? Do you like it?) Her forehead wiggled with humour, earning a chuckle from Harry at her silliness. He didn’t know much of the language but he knew enough. He could say that he liked coffee and, “Oui, je suis allé au cinema avec mes copains et ma famille,” (I went to the cinema with my friends and family)

She threw her head back laughing, starry eyes glinting like a little kid. “You always say that,” Recalling the numerous times the sentence fluidly spilled from his mouth.

He agreed, “Mhm and you never said anything! Thought I was smart until my girlfriend surprised me,” Y/N explained why she never ought to say anything to him--said that there really was no previous circumstance where she felt the need to use it. “I have no idea what you’re saying but you sound hot as fuck,”

“Il y a beaucoup de surprises ce soir,” (There are a lot of surprises tonight) The light atmosphere shifted on a more serious note. Y/N’s tongue peeked from behind her plush, painted lips like a snake slithering its body. Wetting her mouth and smearing it with an irresistible sheen that had Harry feeling dizzy. He bit his own lip, letting the plump flesh whiten with the force. Her accent is killing him. The slow drawl between syllables, the cohesiveness between words as if she considered each appellation with deliberate thought. 

“So,” Harry spoke anxiously, unable to keep his body from fidgeting. Y/N hummed in response, thinning her lips inwards. “What are you thinking of getting?” He forced himself to read the options on the laminated paper. 

“Something delectable,” She uttered, “savoury,” Fingers flipped to the next page, “maybe something juicy and thick,” Y/N skimmed her eyes over the edge of the log, catching a fleeting glance of Harry’s flushed cheeks. “The braised lamb shank, I think,”

His popped collar tickled the skin of his throat which bobbed with a hefty swallow. Y/N closed the menu, putting it aside so that she could rest her elbows on the table. One palm cradled her chin as she watched him practically sweat in his fancy Gucci suit.

“That sounds. . .great,” Harry felt his eyes droop away, opting to blatantly stare at his girlfriends’ cleavage. Despite the shadow from her forearms, he could still see the crest of breasts, kissing the fabric of her tight dress. 

“Yeah? En veux-tu?” (You want some?) Y/N’s heady sigh wisping through the air. Harry salivated at the various images flickering through his head. He breathed out a “yes,” to whatever she just said. 

“Really?”

Harry snapped out of his thought, shaking his skull, “I mean no--, wait maybe?”

Y/N chuckled at his keening behaviour, “Calm down, Har. I asked if you wanted some,"

He blew his reddening cheeks, an enlightened hum stemming from his throat, “Nuh uh, I can’t do that. Not when you’re practically teasing me like that,”

“Like what?”

He raised a neatly trimmed brow with the most incredulous expression on his face, “You’re kidding me,” His fingers stretched to play with his rings. Twisting the golden ‘H’ from his digit, back and forth. Y/N caught his actions, briefly letting her walls down in a moment of weakness at the sight of his long fingers doing the most mundane thing ever. “Speaking French? It does things to me, you know,”

Small, thumping noises echoed off of the hollow wood. Fingertips dancing across the surface as Y/N watched him with hooded eyes. 

“Stop lookin’ at me like that!” Harry retorted, playfully raising a barrier to his sight. 

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,”

“ Nothing? Don’t ya’ remember what your naughty lil’ mouth said on our last date?” 

Her body perked up in interest, “Hmm, the one where I go on my knees when anyone can walk in?” She bit her lips as he paused. The ring resting on his second metacarpal as he breathed in sharply, a curl flopping over his forehead. “Or having your huge cock so far down my throat that you can’t help but moan?”

“Might’ve said somethin’ about that,” 

Y/N shook her head back and forth in mock disappointment, “You shouldn’t think about that stuff, Harry. Anyone can hear you over these curtains and you know very well that you can’t keep those noises in,” She rolled her eyes for effect, reaching for the complimentary glass of water. 

His large hand gripped her wrist abruptly, forcing her to look up at him, “I can be quiet if I want to,” Harry gritted his teeth. His ego rubbing against rough edges at her attitude. 

“Oh please, don’t make me laugh, H,” Y/N scoffed in response, “mais j'aime les sons que tu fais,” (But I love the sounds you make)

There it was again; the dip in her tone. Harry might not exactly understand what she was saying but there was no doubt in his mind that it was meant to provoke him; to turn him on. He growled deep in his throat that she barely heard it through Tchaikovsky’s movement. “So fuckin’ stubborn,”

She leaned back on the booth, crossing her arms over her chest. “Listen closely. I’m in control tonight, alright?” Y/N stared him down, watching the contemplation washing over his face. “C’est ma nuit,” (It’s my night)

“Cut the attitude, Y/N,” His breath hitched in his throat as Y/N smirked gleefully. Her leg raised to rub the bulge in his pants from under the table which Harry obviously did not expect. Y/N’s heel pressed lightly where she assumed his crotch would be, experimentally dipping the curvatures of his upper thighs. Harry gripped the edge of the table at a spark of pleasure flashing through his whole body when Y/N inconspicuously leaned over to press the button the waitress had indicated. “S-stop that,”

“I really don’t want to, daddy,” She gave him a quick smile. His bleary eyes blinking from being closed so tight--an effort to control himself.

“Y/N, I swear to--,” Harry began to murmur when the curtain slipped open. His large palm roughly grabbing her ankle at the surprise of an outsider’s presence.

“What can I get for you?” The waitresses’ pulled her notepad. The tip of the pen patiently resting on the paper.

Y/N opened her menu, sending a wink in Harry’s direction, “I’ll have the braised lamb shank please,” 

The waitress nodded, moving to face her body towards Harry, simultaneously jotting down the order. Harry could feel his heart palpitating in his rib cage. Y/N’s ankle twisting every which way to get out of his vice grip. 

“Et toi, sir?” (And you?)

Harry stuttered a response, suddenly forgetting what he chose to eat tonight. Did he even choose anything? Regardless, the closed menu scorned him to open it. But that would mean having to let go of his girl’s ankle. Hesitantly, he raised his hands from beneath the table, flinching the slightest bit as Y/N stretched her ankle subtly. 

“I’ll have the uh--,” He pursed his lip at a sudden pressure, “The uh, same,”

“Alright, anything else I can get for you?” A questionable frown was plastered on the stranger’s face at Harry’s strange actions and stuttered speech. 

“Une bouteille de rouge, s'il vous plaît” (A bottle of red, please) Y/N beamed sweetly as if she wasn’t doing anything unspoken right below the waitress’s nose.

The waitress disappeared behind the cloth, clicking her pen. Once again, Harry and Y/N were left in the semi-private booth to do as they please. Well, for Y/N to do as she pleased. She established that he wasn’t really the one in control here and he could rest his pride for the night to let his girl have her night of dominance. 

____

The night went on easier than Harry thought.  Aside from the little fiasco in the beginning, Y/N didn’t try to surprise him with any more affectionate touches after that. He wasn’t quite sure if he was grateful or not because anything Y/N wanted to give him; he would take it. 

“No! It ‘juh’ ‘m’appelle Harry’,” (My name is Harry)

He plopped a piece of seasoned meat in his mouth, creasing his forehead, “That’s what I said, innit? ‘Jeh’ m’appelle Harry, yeah?” He quirked a brow, cheek puffing as he chewed his food.

“You need to work on your accent, monsieur,” (Mister)

He hummed, “mm say that again,” What was meant to be a subtle joke incited the beginning of Y/N’s plans. She dabbed the edge of her napkin on the corners of her mouth. The glass of bubbly water simmered against the rim of the flute. Y/N stood up to sit next to him, pulling her dress down to her thighs, scooching her body against the velvet cushion seats. 

“Hi there,” Harry greeted, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “What are you up to?” He whispered so quietly that he was sure--even with Y/N’s close proximity-- that she did not hear it. 

“Je te veux, Harry,” (I want you) Her pointer tapped her cupid’s bow twice. Harry could feel his heartbeat quicken when her tongue appeared, resting a fingertip right in the middle. She made a show of slathering her digit with her saliva, excessively wetting it as if it were his dick. Heat rose under his clothes. There was a burning desire to run as far away from her as possible but he also wanted to melt in a puddle under her feet. “Ici,” (Here)

That he knew. The word came out muffled due to her lips puckering, cheeks hollowing with an effort from the suction of her mouth. His thumb reached up to graze her bottom lip, now loose from releasing her finger, opting to trace teasing touches on his crotch. “You want me in here?” The pad of his thumb slipped between her lips, resting the digit on her wet tongue just as she had only moments prior. “Will I let you?” 

Y/N dipped her head forward, pushing his thumb deeper in her mouth, Sparks of pain lingered on his nerves as she sucked with determination. She rolled her eyes at his question, obviously forgetting who was in charge here, “I’ll take what’s mine,”

“Tu es à moi,” (You are mine) Harry’s hand dropped between their bodies, slumping bonelessly as she gripped his hardening length through his pants, “C'est à moi,” (This is mine) His head fell back on the padded wall, nose wheezing with a vehement sigh.

From the corners of his eye, he could see a slither between the curtains. Workers walking every which way to serve customers, guests walking to their booths. There was no way they could get out of here without being caught. As much as he hated it, Y/N was right. He was vocal in his pleasure. He wanted his partner to know how good he was feeling; always praising encouraging words and releasing quiet whimpers when it felt particularly nice. 

A tug on his lower half snapped him out of his worrisome thoughts. His previously half-massed length plumping to its full potential. Blood surged through his dick, deeming his brain useless and lightheaded with excitement. “Fuck, who are you?”

Harry didn’t actually think she would go through with this. Y/N has never done anything as risque before. Except for last date’s escapade under the table where he made her cum with his tongue and fingers, forcing her to stay quiet as he got his cheeks wet. 

He breathed in a sigh of relief when the button on his trousers popped open. The zipper followed soon enough. The underside of his dick pushed the metal hinge down. The fabric of his boxers stained with blurts of pre-cum, darkening the grey material with a sticky liquid that Y/N couldn’t wait to have on her tongue. Y/N stared at it with awe while Harry merely panted in disbelief. “Tu es si dur,” (You are so hard)

Harry lifted his hips to allow Y/N to slide his trousers and underwear past his bum. “Huh?” He mumbled, scooting to make room for Y/N as she bent at the hip, still sitting on the seat. Y/N looked into his hazy eyes, too delirious to connect like-sounding words together and translating it; not when her warm palm touched his hard, velvet skin. 

“You’re so hard,” She dotted her thumb on the leaking slit, swirling the pad in circles to collect more moisture before swiping her digit towards the crown where the head met the shaft. He was most sensitive in that area and it clearly showed when the slightest graze caused him to shiver and garble out a relieved groan. “Soyez silencieux,” (Be quiet)

Harry glared at her, trying to shake the spots in his vision, “I can be quiet,”

His words fell on deaf ears as Y/N proceeded to wrap the rest of her fingers, one by one, around his girth. Each touch was like a shot of electricity frying his nerves. A moan rumbled deep in his chest, barely able to stop it with a clamp of his mouth. 

Y/N chuckled, sticking her tongue to saturate her taste buds with his musky flavour, “Sure, you ca--,” Her words were cut off with an appreciative hum. The vibrations rattled his senses. Paired with the noises she was making, the visual of her kitten licking the pool of pre-cum on his tip, her fingers massaging his engorged dick, and God forbid she stared up at him with hooded eyes like she was the one receiving immense amounts of pleasure. 

“Are ya’ comfortable, bunny?” Harry asked, noting the way she looked awkwardly bending to reach his middle. She shook her head just as the heat of her mouth encompassed the head, almost distracting him from his initial question. “Up ya’ go, c’mon,” He muttered. His dick pointed straight to the dim ceiling, jolting every which way as he made more room for her to sit and lay down. She shifted her body, ducking her head nearly under the edge of the table. Her cheek rested on his ferns while he palmed her ass with the way she laid. “How’s that?”

“Meilleur,” (Better)

“Good,” Harry replied. Y/N’s heart fluttered at his sweetness. She nearly had his cock tucked inside the confines of her mouth yet he put her first. He definitely deserves something special for that. 

She maneuvered his dick to level with her hungry mouth. Like she did with her finger, Y/N lathed her tongue over the prominent veins decorating his length, insistently pressing her wet muscle against it. Every time she did something she absolutely knew would result in a groan on his end, Harry’s clenched fists gripped her ponytail tighter and dug his fingers on the soft flesh of her bum. 

At least he wasn’t making any noise. 

Slurping noises filled the booth as Y/N relaxed her mouth, head bobbing back and forth. It irritated her cheek to have his course pubic hair scratching her skin but it was the least of her worries. Harry tried to keep an open gaze shifting between Y/N mouthing at his dick to the gap in the curtain. His heart skipped a beat every time someone appeared to be walking in their direction but then turned away at the last minute. Except a familiar waitress seemed to be walking directly over to them. She was only metres away and Harry wondered if it was worth the embarrassment to feel Y/N’s heavenly mouth for a few more seconds. 

“Baby, get up. Someone’s coming,” Harry reached over to grab Y/N’s discarded coat, placing it over his exposed dick and hissing when the fabric touched his sensitive tip. Y/N sat up from her half-sitting position, using her thumb to wipe the rims of her mouth, catching the suspicious stickiness, suckling at the skin and appearing too calm for almost getting caught. 

“Here are the desserts you ordered earlier,” The waitress began, curtains waving open a second late. A tray of delectable sweets lay on the cart. Pink and pistachio green French macarons plated delicately on a small plate for them to share. Both Y/N and Harry craved merveilleux (marvellous); a light meringue cake with whipped cream and dusted chocolate shavings. It wasn’t too sweet and it was immensely creamy. 

Harry blew out his blushy cheeks, stray curls falling over his forehead as his large hand palmed over his centre; the other hand pinched his lips. His dimples deepened with a slight smile as he tried to act normal. 

Y/N started to thank her but stopped to clear her throat, finding that Harry’s thick length was more work than she thought, “Thank you. Merci,”

__

“Je te veux plus profond,” (I want you deeper) Y/N stated, eyeing Harry’s fist crumpling her coat to cover his length. He was about to ask what the fuck she just said  but he found out exactly what she meant a moment later. Y/N tucked her calves beneath her thighs, resting her body weight on her knees under the table. She removed the coat from his lap, revealing his drippy cock. 

The flat of her tongue lapped at the underside of his dick, beginning from the base where his tights balls rested snuggly--filled with cum that she wanted shooting down her throat--to the hooked skin of his frenulum, tracing the curved shape before swirling the entire head like a hurricane, ending the focus on the slick surface of his blurting, red tip before pulling off. She bowed her fingers to haul his clothing down further, bunching the fabric on his calves. 

Like he did to her, Y/N used the end of her palm to force his thick thighs open, sensually rubbing the muscle. “Ow,” She looked up in concern, finding him smiling down at her, “‘M kidding it didn’t hurt,” 

Y/N scoffed, cradling his balls and giving it a harsher squeeze to reprimand him. “Se comporter,”  (Behave) He appeared to understand the message.

She left her hand to handle his balls, gently rolling each of them in his sack. Y/N gripped his dick in a way that allowed her to sink lower to press a lingering kiss to the middle of his sack. The unusual spot sent alarming signals to Harry. However, at this point, everything felt like heaven on earth. All he wanted was to release his usual appreciative groan when Y/N took it upon herself to suck on each ball, releasing sparks of pleasure up the length of his dick. Her hand moved to the thick base to hold him steady, alternating the pressure of her fingers around him. 

“Bon garçon,” (Good boy) Y/N praised, noticing the way the flesh of his bottom lip was stained white from his baring teeth. She engulfed him in her mouth, shearing half of his length from sight. He breathed harshly, feeling the smooth walls of her mouth caressing his hot skin. Her tongue added stimulation on the underside with dipping, upward licks while the other side rubbed against the ridges of the roof of her mouth. The varying degrees of pressure sent Harry into overdrive. 

What did she say? Good boy, wasn’t it? Harry cursed his curious mind from focusing on something aside from the feeling between his legs. 

“Yes, I’m a good boy,” He whimpered through a pursed mouth, heavy pants escaping his heaving chest as he slumped lower in his seat. The tip of his dick prodded her throat, producing a choking sound from Y/N and had Harry thumping his fist on the table, clattering the contents. 

Throughout his relationship, Y/N had never let his cock past where she was comfortable taking him. The absolute rush he felt from his neurotic tip dipping in what he can describe as the wettest, tightest and warmest place he had ever felt was almost enough to let his ego go and ruin his vocal cords. 

“Good boys deserve a reward, right?” Y/N mumbled through his tumescent head, letting the fold of her lips rub his pink tip. She looked up at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes, resting her cheek on his quivering knee. “Pass me my glass, please,”

Harry chuckled at her request, sitting up a little so that he could reach across the table for her glass of water. Y/N waited for the inevitable jutting of Harry’s hips as he moved forward, widening her mouth to accommodate his thick length down her throat. She gagged from the intrusion, feeling the head of his cock hitting her pharynx. 

“God, fuck!” Harry groaned, hand swiftly gripping her tied hair, holding her position. His elbow rested on the table, resting his forehead on his forearm. The fabric of his dress shirt bunched when his abdominal muscles clenched. She has never taken him all the way before. He clutched the edge of the booth when she pulled off. The cool air hitting his wet cock. 

“Droit?” (Right?) 

Harry nodded desperately, willing his hips to stick to the chair. “Can you do it again? Please, Y/N. I’m so close,” 

Y/N observed his body as much as she could. The lulled lids draping over his hazy eyes; most likely blinking out the white spots from his vision. His coloured lips were glossy with arousal. The apples of his cheeks were stamped a blush red. Sometimes his cheek bulged with the pressing of his tongue in quiet desperation, gazing down at her with admiration planted in his eyes. Other times she looked up; his cheeks were hollowed as he sucked in a deep breath, head tilted backwards with eyes stamped shut. 

“Tu es proche?” (You’re close?) Y/N didn’t need an answer. She could tell from the tensing muscles of his thigh. Harry’s knees trying to knock together and the quivering of his hipbones underneath her thumbs, holding him down. 

“Oui, proche,” (Yes, close) He mumbled repeatedly, hoping that what he said and what he wished for was the same thing. 

Y/N hummed in response, choosing not to answer verbally. Instead, she relaxed her mouth, widening her lips to wrap around his head, massaging the girth until she reached the base. She breathed deeply through her nose, loosening her throat to ease his cock further. Spit dribbled from the corners of her mouth, slick saliva leaving his length wet and warm. She came up with a gasp before engulfing him back inside. 

Muted moans were released in the air. Harry’s worries of getting caught were placed at the back burner of his mind. Not when his girl had a mouthful of his cock down her throat; granting him with so much pleasure that only she could give. His eyes rounded when her soft hand-rolled his balls a couple of times. She moaned at the sole feeling of Harry’s fingers digging in her scalp to keep her close while simultaneously lifting his hips the slightest bit to force his cock deeper. Silent constrictions of her throat against his dick filled his ears, choking noises echoed in the booth as Y/N bobbed her head up and down. 

It had only been a few minutes when Harry’s low drawl of “I’m coming, baby,”. His voice was tight, tone dropping a few octaves as his tip prodded her throat a few more times. The burning in his lower stomach grew bigger as the pleasure mounted on top of each other, leading him to his inevitable release. Y/N could feel his length swell in her mouth, her palm felt his balls pulsating as it prepared to shoot white streaks in her mouth. She briskly pulled away, emitting a tortured whine from Harry, making grabby hands at every part of her. 

Harry’s tip weighted on her tongue, making a show of swirling her organ on his frenulum. His lulled eyes pinched together, mouthing a ‘fuck me’ before repeating his hushed chants of “I’m coming”. 

And he did! He could barely keep his head stable on his shoulders, opting to thud against the wall as streaks of white shot the expanse of his dick, painting her tongue with his huge load. Y/N continued to squeeze his balls lightly while the other pumped his base. Harry’s stomach caved in, tensing every part of his body until relaxation took over. Harry watched as Y/N tugged his pants upwards, gently asking him to lift his hips up so that he could pull it over his bum. She carefully slipped his softening length back in his boxers, zipping his trousers carefully and popping his button. 

His breathing was calm when she came up from underneath with the brightest smile plastered on her face. She kissed him with passion. And he retaliated with the same fervour despite the lethargic feeling in his limbs, his hands cupping her face tenderly as they both smiled into the kiss. Y/N pulled away first, lifting a hand to stroke his clammy forehead, brushing away the stubborn curls. 

“Est-tu bon?”(Are you good?)  She asked, staring him with so much love in her eyes. She rested the rim of her glass against her lips. 

“Are you kidding me? I’m more than good,” Harry praised, sighing nostalgically at what occurred a few minutes ago. He shivered at the thought of her throat stuffed with his cock which gave a twitch in his pants. “I reckon I could go again in a bit,”

Y/N fixed her hair, looking at her reflection through the shiny silverware to make sure that she appeared presentable, “Just wait till’ we get home,” She reached over to press the golden button with the intention of acquiring the bill, settling it and leaving in the comfort of their vehicle. 

“Wha’ d’ya mean?” Harry drew his brows together in interest. Her nonchalant statement leading him to conclude that she had more tricks up her sleeve. She reached over his lap to grab her coat, purposefully brushing her wrist against the newly formed bulge in his pants. 

She winked in return, “Patience, mon amour,”

____

longer than i thought because of my dire need to describe every single fricking thing D:<

sorry for any errors! feel free to correct me :)

let me know what you thought!

____

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[chibinekochan]

How to become a Demon Ruler 108

Part:   01 I 02  I 03  I 04 I 05  I 06 I 07 I 

GN. Reader insert

taglist:  @ayesha95    ;  @nomnomcupcakesworld ;  @fex-phoenix   ; @depressed-bixch ;   @kitsune-oji

  -----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The rest of this lesson goes smoothly, but I'm glad it's over. 

  I glance nervously at Barbatos, who is correcting my work. It looks like he makes countless corrections. 

  I feel sweat building up along my spine. 

  "You did very well for your first lesson. Just go over the corrections until lunch, and you will be fine." Barbatos hands me the stack of papers back. 

"I thought you would say some more since you corrected so much." I feel relieved but also a bit unsure of how to take this. 

"Most of my corrections were minor mistakes in the language, but I can not hold these against you since you have just arrived here. I was prepared for more grave mistakes, to be honest. You once again surpassed my expectations." Barbatos smiles at me, slightly proudly. 

I start to wonder if his expectations for me are just remarkably low but take the compliment regardless. 

  I review the corrections, and then it's finally time to eat. 

Lunch is delicious as always. 

  "I have some good news for you. I have talked with Lucifer, and he agreed to let you meet one of his brothers. I think it would be best for you to speak with one of them before the party. The brother you will meet is Mammon. He is the 2nd most powerful brother. Mammon is the Avatar of greed." Diavolo sounds excited about the news. 

"That sounds interesting. When will I meet him?" I generally wonder how other demons are. Maybe this will be helpful for me. 

"In the evening. I know it's short notice, but I hope you are okay with that." Diavolo looks a bit guilty. 

"That's fine for me. It's not like I had other plans." I simply shrug. 

"I'm glad to see that you are so lively." Barbatos smiles as always. 

"Will I need to dress something nice for him?" I don't want to make a bad expression. 

"You are perfect as you are." Diavolo smiles brightly. I slightly wonder what he will say when I'm dressed nicely. 

"I agree with that sentiment. Besides, Mammon is a rather casual demon himself." Barbatos nods and casually continues to clean the table. 

"Alright, I will just stay as I am then. What is my next lesson?" I just want to start it, so it can be over. 

"You are very motivated today. Lord Diavolo should take you as an example." Barbatos smiles and makes a snide comment. 

"I will return to my work." Diavolo looks a bit beaten.

Barbatos nods in agreement. 

"Now regarding your lesson. We will practice your table manners, and then I will squeeze a bit more politics in before you meet Mammon." Barbatos seems very used to juggle my schedule around. 

This doesn't sound too bad. "So are we going to stay here?" 

"Indeed. We will practice the proper tea ceremony and how to act at a party." Barbatos then proceeds to prepare the table once again. 

He is very effective that is certain. 

"Have fun with your lesson." Diavolo sounds a bit dejected. 

"I hope your work will be easy." I smile at Diavolo. After seeing his workload, I feel much compassion towards him. 

Diavolo lights up at my words. "With this wish, it can only be easy."

With that Diavolo leaves. 

   "I will show you how to hold the cup." Barbatos lifts the tea with a few elegant movements and then proceeds to drink it. 

It's very impressive. I feel propelled to applaud him but stop myself. 

I try to emulate his movements, but it's way harder than it looks. 

Barbatos sees me struggling and then takes my hand, which still holds the cup. 

He then slightly corrects my fingers. "Like this master," Barbatos whispers into my ear, which sends shivers down my spine. 

   My heart starts to hammer in my ears, he is way too close. 

   Then Barbatos backs up. I let out a small breath. This was a close call. 

  This repeats a few times during my practice. It's very bad for my heart. 

  The lesson is technically easy, but I'm very glad when we are back to boring politics and history. 

   After the end of the lesson, I feel slightly unsure. "What kind of person is Mammon?" 

"You should just meet him with an open mind and don't give him money." Barbatos doesn't seem to want to influence me. 

Even when the last part strikes me as odd. I just take it as solid advice and Diavolo said he is the avatar of greed. 

  With mixed feelings, I go and meet Mammon. 

Barbatos leaves me alone with the guest. I assume he just wants to give me space. 

Mammon has already made himself comfortable. 

"Hello, I assume you have been told about me by your big brother?" I greet him slightly awkwardly. 

"Umm yeah. It honestly is a huge surprise to everyone. Like a human being adopted by the demon king? Talk about weird. We kinda assumed you were like a toddler or something. So I'm kinda relieved to see that's not the case." Mammon seems indeed very casual. 

This makes me feel great relief. "Yeah, it was a big surprise to me as well. I'm still getting used to everything but Diavolo and Barbatos doing their best to make me feel at home."

"How did that adoption even happen? It just came out of nowhere to everyone." Mammon is pretty blunt with his questions, but I prefer that to be sneaky. 

"I have no idea why the demon King chose me. He just kinda used his powers to summon me into his castle and told me that he is now my father." I'm unsure if it's smart to tell the story like this, but somehow I feel like I can tell Mammon. 

Mammon is seemingly surprised by this information. "Wait, he kidnapped you didn't he?" 

"I suppose you can say that. I can't really complain though since living here is pretty great. I mean the training is hard, but the food is great." I just shrug and take a sip of tea. 

"You are tougher than you look. I'd be going bonkers if it be me. I mean being trained to be the future demon ruler? Doesn't sound like it's fun." Mammon closes his eyes and nods. 

"Well, it's not all bad. I get treated to good food and Diavolo and Barbatos are both so nice. I kinda feel like at home already." I give him a small smile. 

"I got a hard time imagining Barbatos being all nice. He is pretty scary, to be honest." Mammon makes a strange face. It looks like he is remembering something unpleasant. 

"Hmm, I guess how he smiles all the time can be a bit unsettling." I somehow have a hard time picturing Barbatos being scary. Especially to another powerful demon. 

"Yeah, but I have seen him angry and that is very scary. Still, I wonder why they choose you. No offense but you look pretty normal to me. Are you some kind of magic prodigy?" Mammon shudders and changes the topic. 

"That is a good question. I have never felt magical if that makes any sense. The other day my magic was measured and the device broke but no idea what that might mean." I ponder over the question for a moment. 

Suddenly Mammon gets very pale. "Umm well, actually that might be my fault. You see that thing looked kinda valuable. I just kinda umm took a closer look at it and accidentally dropped it. It looked fine but well…" Mammon sighs deeply. Then he suddenly panics. "Oh, wait, please don't say this to anyone. They will kill me!" He looks at me with pleading puppy eyes. 

This is honestly of no big concern to me, but at least it explains the black smoke. Then I have an idea. "I won't tell anyone but in exchange, I want some information about your brothers."

  This is the perfect opportunity for me to gain some valuable Intel. I have to increase my odds of survival.

   Mammon seems to be very troubled. "Look I want to survive, but I can't sell my brothers out you know."

"That's not what I mean. You see the demon king wants me to show him that I am worthy of the throne. I have to make a good impression at the party or else he might kill me. I just need some info, so I can gain some points from your brothers." I give him my straight and honest reasons. 

"Ah, I see. So some basics about what they like will be enough, right?" Mammon gets my point right away. 

"Yes, that would be great Mammon." I smile at him. 

Mammon nods. "Okay. So Lucifer likes classical music and expensive stuff. He has the tastes of an old man to be honest. Don't tell him you got that from me, though." 

I nod and take mental notes. "That sounds easy enough. I'm sure Diavolo would know what Lucifer wants anyway. It kinda sounded like they are close."

"Close is an understatement. They are like a married couple or something." Mammon shrugs. 

  Somehow these words sting. "Wait, don't tell me that they are a couple?" 

"Not as far as I know. They are just kinda all hush and act high and mighty." Mammon shakes his head. 

I need to ask Barbatos about this later. 

"Hmm, I see. So the next brother?" 

"That would be me. The great Mammon. I like cars and brand products. So don't try to cheap sell me!" Mammon boasts loudly. 

"You will be happy with whatever I get you." I quickly shoot him down. 

"Aww come on!" He pouts.

"Sorry, but I have a lot of people to consider and don't forget that you broke a very expensive magical device." I give him a slight smirk. 

"Pretty mean of you." Mammon huffs, he is like a small child. I somehow feel a bit bad. 

"I will find you something nice okay?" 

"You better…" This seems to satisfy him. "Well moving on. Next up we have Levi. He is the avatar of envy. He loves anime and games. Levi is an Otaku as you humans would say." 

This also seems very easy. "Alright, I probably have some games I could give him."

"After that comes Satan. He is the avatar of wrath. Satan likes books and cats. He also hates Lucifer. Then we have Asmo. He likes clothes and beauty products. He is the avatar of lust, but he might as well be the avatar of vain. Not only that, but he also likes to party with me. Next is Beel, he is the avatar of gluttony. As you can guess he loves food. He is also into sports. Last we got Belphie. He is Beel’s twin and all he does is sleep. I mean he is the avatar of sloth. Oh, yeah, I think he liked stars. That's pretty much it." Mammon lists everyone up. 

  This is very helpful. "Wow, they all have very basic interests. Thank you very much for your help." I smile and have already some ideas ready. 

"Well, I suppose they do have basic interests, but what did you expect?" Mammon shrugs. 

"No clue, something eccentric? Don't get me wrong I'm happy with this. At least I will have something to talk to them about." I'm honestly just glad that I don't need to learn about some strange stuff. 

"I think they are pretty eccentric but whatever." Mammon shrugs without care.

"Thank you very much for the help Mammon. I'm sorry that I blackmailed you." I feel a bit guilty at least. 

"It's fine, I get it. I would do the same in your situation. I'm just glad that you won't tell anyone." Mammon doesn't seem to see any issues. 

"You are very nice for a demon. I mean I have no idea about demons, to be honest." I'm not sure if he gets what I mean. 

"Well, I'm the great Mammon so of course, I'm great." He laughs and blushes just a little. 

I shake my head. "I mean all of this is still pretty crazy to me, so it's nice to see that you are so relaxed."

"You have it pretty rough hm? Well, I will give you my number, so you can call me when ya need someone to talk to." Mammon wraps his concern into doing me a big favor. 

"That is very nice of you. I think you will be my first proper friend in the devildom." I give him an honest and grateful smile. 

Mammon looks away, obviously embarrassed. "Don't just say things like that." He mumbles and gives me his number. 

  This meeting goes way better than I expected. I'm very pleased. 

  _______________________

Im sure you all are happy to see at least one of the brothers before the party.